The Mile by Craig A Smith

Author:Craig A Smith [Smith, Craig A]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: edinburgh, parliament, scotland, referendum, scottish independence, fiction, holyrood, castle, royal mile
Publisher: Pilrig Press
Published: 2013-09-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

The Mitre

They crossed the busy junction with North Bridge without incident as, by chance more than anything, the pedestrian crossing showed a green man. Not that Jock had even looked at it before raising his stick and stepping onto the road. Leaving the jugglers and fire-eaters behind they carried on to the next stretch of the High Street.

Jock was explaining something to Ian, “...aye, pneumatic tubes. The messages got fired aboot the offices and shops in an instant.”

“And I bet none of them had ads for Viagra in them?” joked Ian.

“I’ve nae idea what ye’re on aboot son.”

“That was a neat move back there Jock,” said Euan, pointing his thumb back towards the police box.

“Och aye, well - necessity is the mother of invention, as they say. I cut the top off the handle and stuck another stopper on it, gives me a hollow tube, and allows me tae pish intae my bedpan without getting oot my bed.”

Ian looked at the walking stick, a sticker on the side said: 'Property: Urquhart House.'

“Is that your care home, Urquhart House? Should we not let them know you’re okay?”

“No need for that son, I’ll be hame soon. Come on, I’ve got a mouth like sandpaper, this’ll do.”

They looked up at the pub sign, 'The Mitre, Wine and Spirit Merchant.' It was just after 8pm, and the sun was gone. The High Street was bathed in the bluish glow of dusk.

There was a decent crowd in, a mix of tourists and locals, and a generally happy atmosphere in The Mitre.

Stuart and Euan headed for the bar while Ian and Jock managed to grab a table by the window, underneath a towering bookcase.

Euan’s phone chirped. Another text message from Vicki: 'Change of plan. I’m staying at D’s for rest of weekend. Call me. V.'

He stopped in his tracks, “Get the drinks in Stuart, I need to make a call.” He turned and headed back out of the door where he stood for a moment, looking at the message again. 'Call me'. That was ominous. What was so important it couldn’t go in a text message?

Outside, there were a few tables with tourists and locals enjoying a cigarette. He stepped past the bouncer and walked towards the edge of the pavement then, with a deep breath, called Vicki, his heart pounding - his mouth drying up. The ringtone seemed louder than usual. More threatening, if that were possible. She answered.

“Hi, it’s me, don’t know why this can’t wait - you’re enjoying yourself, and for once I’m having a good fucking time too, so what’s so important?.... .... ....”

In an instant, with two words, Euan’s world was turned on its head. He put his hand to his forehead and started walking, looking for something to lean on. An overflowing litter bin offered him some support. Vicki was still talking, but, through her tears, he could barely make out a word she was saying.

He gathered his senses and suddenly the world seemed clearer, brighter, and more full of promise than he could ever have imagined.

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