The Devil's Chamber by Neil Cocker

Author:Neil Cocker [Cocker, Neil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cloudburn Books
Published: 2021-04-30T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

The train crept forward, inching away from Edinburgh. Fergus sat opposite me and we were going back to Pitbirnie for Christmas, a ten-day escape from the city and its shadows.

“Where oh where have you been, Miro? You still haven’t answered that crucial question.”

Fergus was eyeing me with suspicion. He had already asked me when we met at the Malt Shovel for a pre-train pint, and also in the queue at the off-licence for the on-train carry-out.

He popped a can of Stella. “You’re a fucking enigma, man. A dark horse.”

I knew I was blushing, so took advantage of it. “My personal life is none of your business, mate.”

Fergus shook his head and took another swig from his can. “I’ll get it out of you at some point, ya dick.”

It was true that I had been flying under the radar since meeting Neve. In the last six weeks or so, I had seen Fergus twice, and the whole family only on that Sunday when they all decamped down to Edinburgh for lunch. I had the impression they were all secretly a little pleased that I had been out of sight – it meant I had found new friends, was building a new life, was moving on. But it didn’t mean they weren’t also a little hurt but my absence, and I saw it that day at the Italian restaurant – the fondness in my grandparents’ eyes, Uncle Donnie winking at me, Auntie Sarah flustered and tearful. I would make it up to them all over the next few days, I’d resolved. They needed me back in the family fold, and after everything that had happened in the last few weeks, I needed it too.

At Haymarket the train filled up, and the seats next to us were taken by an elderly couple. Fergus talked on regardless, not moderating his language or volume, a habit of his that had always embarrassed me. He stabbed a finger at his open newspaper. “It’s been, what, more than two years since she died? I get it. It’s a tragedy that Diana died, but this big fucking meltdown as if everyone knew her, well it’s getting a bit fucking embarrassing. I mean, get real, she was a fucking princess, you know? Let’s not pretend she was the girl next door.” He shook his head in outrage. “Fucking royals. First against the wall when the revolution comes, first against the wall…”

I held eye contact with him and gave a micro-nod in the direction of the old couple, but he just looked at me quizzically and diverted his monologue to the ‘fucked up drunken shenanigans’ at the work Christmas party. Only when I kicked him under the table did he finally click and stop talking. He sighed and took a swig from his can.

He was two months younger than me and we’d grown up like brothers rather than cousins. We’d been to the same playgroup, the same primary school, and the same high school. All through that time we had maintained the love-hate intensity of siblings.

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