The Distant Echo Page 0,44

to see Weird outlined against the gray Scottish baronial Sheriff Court, his arms windmilling like a disarticulated scarecrow. As he ran, he let out a whooping cry. Alex looked up at the clock. Only a minute to spare.

Then Weird was upon them, hugging them, grinning. "I just thought, this is stupid. I'm a grown man and my father's trying to keep me from my friends on Hogmanay. What's that about?" He shook his head. "If he throws me out, I can bunk up with you, right, Alex?"

Alex punched him on the shoulder. "Why not? I'm used to your disgusting snoring."

"Quiet, everybody," Ziggy shouted over the hubbub. "It's the bells."

A hush fell over them as they strained to hear the tinny translation of Big Ben coming from Ziggy's transistor. As the chimes began, the Laddies fi' Kirkcaldy looked at each other. Their arms rose as if drawn by a common thread and they clasped their hands on the final stroke of twelve. "Happy New Year," they chorused. Alex could see his friends were as choked with emotion as he was himself.

Then they broke away from each other and the moment was gone. He turned to Lynn and kissed her chastely on the lips. "Happy New Year," he said.

"I think it might be," she said, a rosy blush on her cheeks.

Ziggy cracked open the bottle of Grouse and it passed from hand to hand. Already the groups in the square were breaking up, everyone mingling and wishing strangers a guid New Year with whiskey breath and generous embraces. A few people who knew them from school commiserated with their hard luck at stumbling on a dying girl in the snow. There was no malice in their words, but Alex could see from the eyes of his friends that they hated it as much as he did. A bunch of girls were dancing an impromptu eightsome reel by the Christmas tree. Alex looked around, unable to articulate the emotions swelling in his breast.

Lynn sneaked her hand into his. "What are you thinking, Alex?"

He looked down at her and forced a tired smile. "I was just thinking how easy it would be if time froze now. If I never had to see St. Andrews again as long as I live."

"It won't be as bad as you think. You've only got six months to go anyway, and then you'll be free."

"I could come back at weekends." The words were out before Alex knew he was going to say them. They both knew what he meant.

"I'd like that," she said. "We'll just not mention it to my horrible brother, though."

Another New Year, another pact.

At the police social club in St. Andrews, the drink had been flowing for some time. The bells were almost lost in the raucous bonhomie of the Hogmanay dance. The only curb on the boisterousness of those who suffered restraint as a condition of their employment was the presence of spouses, fiancé–‘s and anyone who could be inveigled into coming along to save the faces of the unattached.

Flushed with exertion, Jimmy Lawson was flanked by the two middle-aged women who operated the station switchboard in a Dashing White Sergeant set. The pretty dental receptionist he'd arrived with had escaped to the toilets, worn out by his apparently boundless enthusiasm for Scottish country dancing. He didn't care; there were always plenty of women up for a turn on the floor on Hogmanay, and Lawson liked to let off steam. It made up for the intensity he brought to his work.

Barney Maclennan leaned on the bar, flanked by lain Shaw and Allan Burnside, each holding a substantial whiskey. "Oh God, look at them," he groaned. "If the Dashing White Sergeant comes, can Strip the Willow be far behind?"

"Nights like this, it's good to be single," Burnside said. "Nobody dragging you away from your drink and on to the dance floor."

Maclennan said nothing. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd tried to convince himself he was better off without Elaine. He'd never managed it for more than a few hours at a time. They'd still been together last Hogmanay, though only just. They were hanging on to each other with rather less determination than the sets of dancers birling in circles on the floor. Only a few weeks into the year, she'd told him she was off. She was tired of his job coming before her.

With a flash of irony, Maclennan remembered one of her rants. "I wouldn't mind so much if it was

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