The Distant Echo Page 0,23

jobs starting tomorrow. Well, all except Ziggy." His mouth twitched in a sardonic smile. "His dad believes students need to work on their books in the school holidays, not stacking shelves in Safeway."

Maclennan considered. Suspicions based mostly on his gut didn't justify demanding that they remained in St. Andrews. It wasn't as if they were about to flee the jurisdiction. Kirkcaldy was only a short drive away, after all. "You can go home," he said finally. "Just as long as you don't mind me and my team turning up on your parents' doorsteps."

Alex watched him leave, dismay dragging him further into depression. Just what he needed to make the festive season go with a swing.
Chapter 6
Chapter 6

The events of the night had caught up with Weird at least. When Alex went upstairs after a glum cup of coffee with Ziggy, Weird was in his usual position. Flat on his back, his gangling legs and arms thrown out from under the bedclothes, he shattered the relative peace of the morning with grumbling snores that mutated every now and again into a high-pitched whistle. Normally, Alex had no trouble sleeping to the strident soundtrack. His bedroom at home backed onto the railway tracks, so he'd never been accustomed to night silence.

But this morning, Alex knew without even trying that he'd never drop off with Weird's noises as a backdrop to his racing thoughts. Even though he felt light-headed with lack of sleep, he wasn't in the least drowsy. He gathered an armful of clothes from his chair, scrabbled under the bed for his baseball boots and backed out of the room. He dressed in the bathroom and crept downstairs, not wanting to wake Weird or Mondo. He didn't even want Ziggy's company for once. He paused by the coat hooks in the hall. His parka was gone with the police. That only left a denim jacket or a kagoule. He grabbed them both and headed out.

The snow had stopped, but the clouds were still low and heavy. The town seemed smothered in cotton wool. The world had turned monochrome. If he half-closed his eyes, the white buildings of Fife Park disappeared, the purity of the vista defeated only by the rectangles of blank windows. Sound had disappeared too, smothered under the weight of the weather. Alex struck out across what would have been grass toward the main road. Today, it resembled a track in the Cairn-gorms, flattened snow indicating where occasional vehicles had toiled past. Nobody who didn't absolutely have to was driving in these conditions. By the time he reached the university playing fields, his feet were wet and freezing, and somehow that felt appropriate. Alex turned up the drive and headed out toward the hockey pitches. In the middle of an expanse of white, he brushed a goalmouth backboard clear of snow and perched on it. He sat, elbows on knees, chin cupped in his hands and stared out over the unbroken tablecloth of snow until little lights danced in front of his vision.

Try as he might, Alex couldn't get his mind as blank as the view. Images of Rosie Duff flitted behind his eyes like static. Rosie pulling a pint of Guinness, serious concentration on her face. Rosie half turned away, laughing at some quip from a customer. Rosie raising her eyebrows, teasing him about something he'd said. Those were the memories he could just about cope with. But they wouldn't settle. They were constantly chased away by the other Rosie. Face twisted in pain. Bleeding on the snow. Gasping for her last breaths.

Alex leaned down and grabbed a couple of handfuls of snow, clenching them tight in his fists until his hands started to turn reddish purple with cold and drops of water ran down to his wrists. Cold turned to pain, pain to numbness. He wished there was something he could do to provoke the same response in his head. Turn it off, turn it all off. Leave a blank the brilliant white of the snowfield.

When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he nearly pissed himself. Alex stumbled forward and upward, almost sprawling in the snow but catching himself just in time. He whirled round, hands still fists against his chest. "Ziggy," he shouted. "Christ, you nearly scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry." Ziggy looked on the point of tears. "I said your name, but you didn't react."

"I didn't hear you. Christ, creeping up on people like that, you'll get a bad name, man," Alex said

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