sort of trellis-work peeping through the greenery in places. It was slightly squint. I hadn’t really noticed that wallpaper for years, certainly not in all the years I had been answering the phone. It was horrible. My father was a fool to have chosen it.
‘Frang?’ He cleared his throat. ‘Frank, son?’ he said, almost clearly, then relapsed: ‘Frang, ari therr? Say somin, son. ’S me. Say somin, son. Ah said they caugh’ Eric. Ji hear, son? Frang, istill therr?’
‘I—’ My dry mouth tripped me, and the sentence died. I cleared my throat carefully, began again. ‘I heard you, Dad. They’ve caught Eric. I heard. I’ll be right in. Where’ll I meet you, at the police station?’
‘Naw, naw, son. Naw, mee’ me ou’side the . . . ou’side the . . . lib’ary. Yeah, the lib’ary. Mee’ me therr.’
‘The library?’ I said. ‘Why there?’
‘Righ’, see y’, son. Mon hurry up, eh?’ I heard him clatter the receiver for a few seconds, then the line went quiet. I put the phone down slowly, feeling a sharpness in my lungs, a steely sensation that went with the thudding of my heart and my lightened head.
I stood for a while, then went back up the stairs to the loft to close the skylight and turn the radio off. My legs were a little sore and tired, I realised; perhaps I had been overdoing things a bit recently.
The breaks in the cloud overhead were moving slowly inland as I walked back up the path towards the town. It was dark for half-seven, a summery gloom of soft light everywhere over the dry land. A few birds stirred themselves lethargically as I went past. Quite a few were perching on the wires of the telephone line snaking its way to the island on skinny poles. Sheep made their ugly, broken noises, little lambs bleated back. Birds sat on barbed-wire fences farther on, where the snagged tufts of dirty wool showed the sheep trails underneath. Despite all the water I had drunk during the day, my head was starting to ache dully again. I sighed and kept on walking, through the slowly diminishing dunes and past the rough fields and straggly pastureland.
I sat down, back against sand, just before I left the dunes entirely, and wiped my brow. I flicked a little sweat from my fingers, looked out over the static sheep and the perched birds. In the town I could hear bells, probably from the Catholic chapel. Or maybe the word had spread their bloody dogs were safe. I sneered, snorted through my nose in a sort of half-laugh, and looked over the grass and scrub and weed to the steeple of the Church of Scotland. I could almost see the library from here. I felt my feet complain, and knew that I shouldn’t have sat down. They’d be sore when I started walking again. I knew damn well that I was just delaying getting to the town, just as I had delayed leaving the house after my father had telephoned. I looked back at the birds, strung like notes along the same wires which had brought the news. They were avoiding one section, I noticed.
I frowned, looked closer, frowned again. I felt for my binoculars, but I touched my own chest; I had left them back at the house. I got up and started walking across the rough ground, away from the path, then I jogged; then I ran, finally sprinting across the weeds and rushes, vaulting a fence on to the pasture where the sheep rose and scattered, cackling plaintively.
I was breathless by the time I got to the telephone line.
And it was down. The freshly cut wire hung against the wood of the land-side pole. I looked up, made sure I wasn’t seeing things. A few of the birds nearby had flown off, and they circled, calling in their dark voices through the almost still air over the parched grass. I ran down to the island-side pole on the other side of the break. An ear, covered in short white and black fur, and still bleeding, was nailed to the wood. I touched it and I smiled. I looked round wildly, then calmed myself again. I set my face to the town where the steeple pointed like a finger, accusatory.
‘You lying bastard,’ I breathed, then took off for the island again, gathering pace as I went, hitting the path and letting rip, pounding down its beaten surface, careering down to the Jump and