Starred in the school play every year. I suppose that’s why subterfuge comes easily to me. Alice is looking at the painting in progress—a small illustration of a tiny wren sitting on a nest as small as a child’s hand—remembering her school days, remembering writing, in her best hand, to various a...
He could have done this by phone, but he fancied the trip and the company of an old friend. A copy of the new Gazette lay on the passenger seat. He would glance at it from time to time and grin. Not that he would ever let anyone know, but he thought it was “grand”—his word, the Highland word of h...
She went straight to her hotel, not looking up to the second floor, so did not notice any change on the outside. She certainly noticed a change in the reception. “You’re back,” the owner, Mrs. Hardie, said. “I am.” Mae smiled, knowing any small kindness would not work; the owner had disapproved o...
He needed to know if Jimmy McPhee was alive. He needed his mother safe. And he needed a friend. He was a walking bag of needs. He was in reception in the Herald building and phoned upstairs to ask Sandy Marshall, “Have you time for a pint anytime soon?” “I’ll have the newspaper shout us lunch. We...
Smart came about because of her life, not some random act committed by a madman, of that he was certain. I owe it to her, he told himself when he started delving to better understand why she was killed. But really it had been that terrible night when he couldn’t remember her Christian name that h...
Platform after platform of puffing hissing engines resembling the starting gate at the racetrack, the nervous animals waiting for the off, was the first sight of the city for many arriving from the towns and villages and clachans of the Highlands and Islands. McAllister jumped on a tram and with ...