‘Look, there’s a cleaner,’ Carly announced, striding off in the direction of a lady in a yellow jacket pushing a cleaning cart.

  The clicks of my heels sounded like a ticking clock as I raced to join her.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you, but I was here this morning and…’ I went into the whole story, with Carly taking over when I suddenly teared up and lost my words. Between the two of us, we eventually got all the details out.

  ‘Och, sweet Jesus, that’s awful,’ the woman sympathised. ‘It’s just me and my pal, Caz, that have been on today, but I haven’t come across anything. She’s on her tea break, but hang on, let me see if she’s found them.’ She pulled a walkie-talkie out of her pocket and summoned the crackly voice of her friend. ‘Caz, are you there?’

  ‘Aye, Jenny. But I hope you’re no’ going to tell me that Gerry Butler is in the lounge. I fell for that yesterday when I was on with Bobby and near pulled a muscle racing back there. Bugger was pulling my leg.’

  Jenny flushed and rolled her eyes. ‘What have I told you? Don’t believe a word that comes out of that man’s mouth. Anyway, you can stay where you are, I just need to know if…’

  She explained what she was looking for, and we all waited with bated breath for the response, then deflated when it came.

  ‘Nope, I didn’t find anything. That would break your heart, so it would. Say to the woman to ask at the customer services desk downstairs. They can maybe check with security too.’

  As advised by Caz, after I picked up my case at the baggage reclaim, we went to the customer services desk in the main terminal and explained the situation. The very helpful lady did her best, made some calls, checked something on her computer system, but ultimately come up blank.

  Undeterred, I searched the escalators, retraced my path to the security gates, then went back downstairs and scoured the area around the check-in desks. Still nothing. Eventually, I conceded defeat, but only temporarily.

  There was barely a queue at the taxi rank when we came out of the terminal building, but we went right around it and crossed over the road to the car park, and then turned left to the drop-off zones where I’d been deposited by that grumpy arse of a driver this morning, all three of us still scanning the ground like missile lasers trying to lock on a target. It was busy now, so we had to navigate groups of passengers getting in and out of cars, greeting each other, and in one case, alighting from a minibus with twelve chums singing, ‘We’re leaving on a jet plane’, while wearing the West Of Scotland’s full stock of pink Stetsons and T-shirts declaring they were on ‘Demi’s Hen Weekend 2024 – Hoes Before Bros’.

  I guided Carly and Carol to the point where I’d pulled my bag out of the car, my heart in my mouth, silent prayers being shot up like they were messages on a ticker tape. Again, we scoured the area. Nothing.

  ‘The driver that dropped me off was a rude git, so I didn’t linger here long.’

  ‘What about the taxi?’ Carol asked. ‘What company did you use?’

  ‘Lochside. They cover all the villages out our way, and they’re always the most reliable.’

  Carly was first to whip her phone out and start searching for the details. ‘Right, their office is actually not far from here. We could stop in on the way.’

  I nodded, approving of that idea, and we headed back to the official airport taxi rank to get one of their trademark white cabs. The urge to cry was gone now, replaced with hope, determination, the relief of knowing I was at least taking action to fix this and just a tiny, tiny sliver of optimism and positivity. A sliver that got even smaller when we reached the taxi office.

  We asked the airport cab to wait for us, and then we all piled in, to see a stout bloke in maybe his fifties or sixties sitting at his desk, ignoring two ringing phones and barking orders into another. He put his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone he was using.

  ‘Ladies, I’ve no cars right now, so you’ll need to wait and I’ll help you just as soon as I can.’

  ‘We don’t need a taxi,’ I told him, trying my hardest not to sound like a woman on the edge. Which wasn’t easy, because, well, I was a woman teetering as close to the bloody edge as I could get. ‘We need some help, pal. It’s important.’

  There must have been something in my tone that registered with him, because he went back to his call with, ‘Angus, I’ll pay you double time. Just get your arse in here and give us a hand.’

  He hung up and gave us his full attention, still ignoring the other two ringing phones.

  ‘Sorry, ladies, it’s my worst nightmare today. We’re short on drivers and Sandra, who works the phones, downed tools and went off sick at lunchtime. There was no one to cover, so it’s just me, doing ten bloody jobs and all of them badly.’

  ‘I’ll get straight to the point then and not take up your time,’ I replied. ‘I was in one of your taxis this morning, from Weirbridge to the airport, 8 a.m. booking. I think I might have left something really important in the car. I lost my hairbrush, not that I care about that, but I think it might have fallen out of my bag and taken a wee pouch of jewellery with it. It’s my late husband’s… it’s my…’ I stopped. Couldn’t say it.

  ‘The pouch has four rings in it,’ Carly finished for me once again. Dear God, why couldn’t I relay simple information without the words failing me? Exhaustion, both physical and mental, were shutting down my ability to function. ‘And they’re really important to us. They belong to family members that are no longer with us.’

  A look of sympathy passed across the man’s face, rapidly followed by irritation as the phone he’d just hung up began to ring again.

  He opened the top drawer on his left and rummaged through it. ‘If anything valuable had been handed in today, Sandra would have put it in here, but there’s nothing. Just more mobile phones than a Vodafone shop.’ He pulled out a book from the front of the drawer, flicked it open at a page and ran his finger down the paper. ‘And there’s nothing in the lost property log for today either.’

  My stomach began to churn again as he went on, ‘What kind of car was it, love? Did you get the name of the driver?’

  ‘No, but it was a red Skoda. And he was a heavy guy, long hair, not exactly chipper.’

  As soon as I said that, the taxi boss put the book back in the drawer and I noticed a sudden change in his posture. A glance to Carly and Carol told me they saw it too.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t check with that driver at the moment.’

  ‘Look, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t so important to me,’ I pleaded.

  The bloke put his hands up. ‘Missus, it’s not that I won’t check, it’s that I can’t. That driver… erm… well… He went off sick today and I’ve got no way of contacting him. Look, all I can tell you is that if he found anything, he’d have radioed in straight away, and according to this logbook, there was nothing recorded. So I’m sorry.’

  If he thought I was giving up, he had another think coming. ‘Do you know when he’ll be back? Can you ask him then?’

  The change in his attitude was strange. My crack CID interrogation skills, developed while bringing up two kids in the eighties, could absolutely sense that something was amiss. Had the driver been fired? Arrested? Punched in the face for being an arrogant arse? None of those options would surprise me.

  ‘I will, love. If and when he comes back, I’ll definitely ask the question. Leave me your number and I’ll call you if there’s anything to tell.’

  There was no point pushing it any further, because he obviously wasn’t going to budge, so I did as I was asked, then the three of us trudged back out and into the airport taxi that had been waiting there the whole time.

  It was dusk by the time we got into my kitchen and pulled out chairs at the same table I’d sat at this morning, before my whole world had been turned upside down. I’d already searched my bedroom, the stairs, the hall… nothing. Now I was just desperate for a cup of tea and a cry, but I didn’t want to upset the girls. They’d done so much for me today already.

  ‘Carol, are you going to stay at your mum’s, pet?’ Carol’s parents still lived in Weirbridge, and they were the best of folks. They’d both come to Don’s funeral, and they’d popped around a few days later to check how I was doing.

  ‘No, I’m going to stay here, if that’s okay. Mum and Dad turned my bedroom into a gym. I’m trying not to be offended.’

  Despite the fraught circumstances, that made me smile.

  ‘Don’t be, love. Rumour has it that Elsie Cannon in Turner Road has turned her spare room into a sex dungeon. I don’t think it’s true, but I really hope it is.’

  I didn’t have to ask Carly the same question about her sleeping arrangements. Carly’s dad, my Don’s older brother, passed away years ago and her mother had long since retired to Spain with the latest in a string of men that had too white teeth, too dark tans, too much money and too little sense to see that she was one of the most self-obsessed creatures that ever lived. Carly barely heard from her, feckless woman that she was.

  ‘Carly, you take Dee’s room, and Carol, you take Michael’s.’ Neither Michael nor Dee had lived in this house for over a decade, but that was still how I thought of the bedrooms, and I always would. ‘Let’s get something to eat, and then we can call everyone and check those websites again tomorrow. I’m not giving up.’

  ‘We’re not either. In fact, I’ve got an idea,’ Carly said, with the kind of conviction that she used to have when she was a lass, and was coming up with another of her daft plans that ultimately ended in disaster. This was the same woman who’d once decided to travel the world, hunting down all her ex-boyfriends to see if she’d missed out on ‘the One’. Actually, as bonkers as it seemed at the time, that particular escapade had somehow ended with her marrying the man she spent the next twenty years with, so maybe it hadn’t been completely crazy, but still. Now she was older, wiser, but just as unpredictable. ‘I think it’s our best shot of finding them, but you’re going to absolutely hate it.’

  As Carly started to outline the plan, I knew my niece was right. I hated the idea. It made my toes curl inside my tights. But I also knew that I’d caused this mess myself. And there was nothing I wouldn’t do to fix it.

  10

  SOPHIE

  Sophie must have nodded off because when she woke up, Dan, the nice police officer, was walking into her cubicle. ‘How’s the head?’ he asked, making Sophie instinctively put her hand to the lump on the left side of her crown.

  ‘Still there, so that’s a bonus,’ she replied.

  ‘Ah, sense of humour is restored. Always a good sign.’ He held up her black backpack. ‘Can you confirm again that it’s yours? Actually, the travel tag on it with your name and number gives it away, but I need to check.’

  ‘Definitely mine. Thank you.’ Sophie reached over and took a sip of the water that had been placed on the table beside her bed.

  ‘The nurses tell me all your tests were fine and your X-ray was clear, so they’re just keeping you in overnight to be on the safe side.’

  Sophie nodded. ‘Yes, the doctor said I’ve got a mild concussion, but everything else looks okay. I think if I lived here or had someone with me, they might let me out, but they don’t want me alone in a hotel.’

  ‘Makes sense. Do you feel up to answering some questions?’

  ‘Of course, but I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I have no idea what happened. The whole journey is a bit hazy.’

  He pulled a blue plastic chair over from the corner, and then took his notepad out. ‘Fair enough, but let’s see how you get on. Let’s start with the personal details.’

  At his prompting, she ran through her name, address, date of birth and the flight details for her arrival this morning.

  ‘Business or pleasure?’ he asked.

  She wasn’t sure how to answer that. Definitely not business. Not much pleasure so far either and maybe not at all.

  ‘Maybe the second one. I used to date a guy from Glasgow, and I was coming up to see him.’

  ‘Was he expecting you? That isn’t an official question. Just an offer to contact him for you if you want me to.’

  Sophie was about to shake her head, when she remembered that it hurt, so instead she just explained, ‘No, he didn’t know I was coming. I haven’t seen him in a long time. Two years. And when I tried to get back in touch, his number had changed, so I’m just going to go to his flat and see him there.’

  ‘You can’t contact him through social media?’

  Sophie sighed. ‘If only I could. He’s a teacher like me, and they have strict policies about that stuff, so he decided it was easier just not to bother with it. It was never his thing.’ The fact that Ash wasn’t interested in social media and didn’t feel the need to put his whole life out there for some kind of validation was something that she’d loved about him. Not so handy when she was trying everything she could to track him down though.

  ‘No arguments from me on that. You wouldn’t believe the trouble all that online stuff causes now, all the cyber bullying and stalking shenanigans. We’re dealing with it every day. Anyway, okay then, so this morning. Can you run me through what happened after you arrived?’

  ‘I went to the airport drop-off zone because the queue at the taxi rank was long and I thought I might be able to pick up a taxi over there. I know that’s not allowed. The driver told me that. I’m sorry.’

  The policeman shrugged. ‘Least of our worries today. Go on.’

  ‘He wasn’t very nice. Sorry, I shouldn’t say that, but he was pretty rude. Said no at first, but then agreed to take me into Glasgow to the hotel.’

  She remembered that bit clearly, but was struggling to piece together what came next. ‘Then we were in the car, on the motorway and we were talking…’ Saying that gave her chills and she couldn’t work out why. What had they been speaking about? It was as if it was right on the tip of her tongue, yet she just couldn’t remember. She tried to think what happened next, but nothing was computing. ‘I think the next thing I remember is the car swerving and then you being at the car door asking me to put the window down. I honestly don’t know what happened in between. Is that normal? To forget stuff?’

  He nodded, then spoke to her with a bit of humour in his voice that she found reassuring. ‘I’m no medical expert, but I’d think a clatter on the side of the head can do that to you. Okay, then, I’ll get out of the way and let you rest. I’ve got your number if we have any more questions, but if you remember anything else, can you give me a call at the station? I’ll put my card with the number right here.’

  ‘I will do. And thank you. You’ve been really nice.’

  He placed a business card down next to her drink. ‘I hope the rest of your trip is way less eventful. You take care of yourself.’

  ‘I will. Thanks again. And, Officer, I asked the nurse about the driver, but she couldn’t tell me anything. Do you know how he’s doing?’

  Unlike Nurse Brenda, his face gave nothing away. ‘I’m afraid I can’t say either. Patient confidentiality. So many rules and regulations these days.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said, truthfully, although that didn’t mean she had to like it. ‘But there were no other cars involved? No one else was hurt?’

  ‘Nope, quite miraculous really. The road was fairly busy, but somehow the other vehicles managed to bypass the taxi or stop safely. Your car hit the central reservation, but it was the only one affected. Someone up there was definitely looking out for you,’ he raised his eyes heavenwards. ‘Get some rest and if you think of any other details, please let us know.’ With that, and a kind smile, he was off, leaving her staring at the door.

  She had no doubt at all that someone had been looking out for her. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ she whispered, swallowing a lump of emotion and relief in her throat. Her mum had been looking over her and everyone else on that road today, but she might have taken her eye off the driver though. Sophie really wished she knew what had happened to him. She had such a feeling that if he was fine, then they’d hint at that, so all this secret stuff was just making her think the worst.

  Her stomach suddenly lurched as a realisation hit her. The driver was only there, on that motorway, because she’d asked him to give her a lift. If it wasn’t for her, he’d probably be going about his day, living his life quite happily. That thought made her head hurt again. Was this her fault? Was this poor man badly injured or worse because of her?

  Just at that, Nurse Brenda opened the door and came in again. ‘Ah, you’re alone. I popped my head in earlier but you were chatting to the police. We’ve got a bed for you up on the admissions ward, so the porters will be along shortly to take you up there. As the doctor told you earlier, all the tests have come back fine, but we just want to keep an eye on you overnight. Have you got any questions?’

  Sophie felt her eyes well up and tried to hold back the tears, but the nurse spotted it.

  ‘Don’t worry. This happens sometimes when the adrenaline wears off. It’s the shock. It can hit you afterwards and it can be quite upsetting.’

  ‘No, it’s not that, it’s just… Nothing. It’s fine. I know you’re busy.’

  The nurse continued chatting as she smoothed the bedspread. ‘I was actually just about to take my break, so don’t you worry about me. I’ll just take it right here and you can talk to me for a few minutes. For once, it’s not like the January sales out there, so we can take a breather anyway. It’ll be a different story tonight when the city-centre rush gets going. So tell me, love, what’s upsetting you?’

  ‘I’m just worried that the taxi driver is dead because of me,’ Sophie blurted. ‘I mean, if I hadn’t got in his cab, this would never have happened.’ The tears were unstoppable now.

  Brenda reached over and put her hand on hers, hesitated, then spoke, choosing her words wisely. ‘I can’t tell you anything about another patient’s confidential health situation,’ she began, and Sophie could see her mind whirring. ‘But all I can say, in general terms, is that a gentleman was brought in this afternoon after a non-fatal accident.’