Middle Hebrides

VI - Now, Thursday

'She'll live,' Fox sighed and looked at Angus' cigarette. Without a word, Mackinnon offered him one. For an Irishman, Fox lacked any discerning features that would make one guess where he was from. Small, with hay-like hair he kept on combing with his hand like a nervous tick, he must have been already past his prime. Even the suit he was wearing was too big, almost baggy and wrinkled. He resembled more of a worn cicada than a fox.

He lit a cigarette and sent Angus a questioning look.

'Yes?' Mackinnon asked slowly.

'You know what... People are distressed with your mother's death.'

'Are you one of them?' Angus retaliated aggressively. Fox raised his eyebrows, then shook his head.

'It's a tragedy. But I'd never take my own life because my employer died. I'm loyal but this is almost... pagan. As if you go to the pyre to follow your leader.'

'If you want to ask me about what happened there - I've got no answer. She cried. She complained about her loss. I gave her a day off and then she walked out,' Angus shrugged. 'Where's Lockhurst?'

'I don't know. He keeps the books, the accident doesn't matter to him as long as the net income is alright.'

'That's cynical.'

'That's who Mark is,' Fox dropped the cigarette on the ground and looked at the ambulance. The paramedics were already wrapping up, packing the last bits of the equipment. One of them walked up to Angus and Andy.

'Are you the employers?'

'I am,' Angus replied heavily.

'We presume it's a suicide attempt but you will still need to speak with the police,' the blue eyes closed as if the paramedic was thinking about something. After a brief moment, he added: 'Please try to contact her family. Employer's duty. We'll attempt it ourselves too. I don't know when we'll discharge her - there's a couple of broken ribs on top of an arm and her face is disfigured. Skin torn because of the contact with the pavement. That's what I can say for now - the insurance will probably cover everything but she will need all the support she can.'

Angus nodded to his words.

'Thank you. Where are you taking her?'

'The Infirmary should have some spaces left, hopefully. We're overcrowded with people and it's almost debilitating. Tories put everything to shambles.'

'Tories, Labour. Everyone's worth exactly the same,' Fox scoffed.

'Alright, gents, this isn't a political debate. Thank you again for your help today. We'll do our best to reach out to her relatives,' Angus cut the discussion the moment he saw his manager display any resemblance of emotion.

They walked back in, only to be greeted by the staff on the ground floor, flocked like sheep terrified of a wolf.

'Is she going to be alright?' one of the girls asked with a shaky voice.

'She needs to rest after they put her together,' Fox replied bitterly. 'Don't you have anything else to do?'

The people looked at each other and started to withdraw slowly in silence.

'Wait. All of you, wait,' Angus felt an impulse he couldn't explain. He might have hated the place and what his mother had done with it but it was his responsibility. 'Does anyone know what might have caused Catherine jump through the window?'

The same girl, hair dyed red, grey eyes, sniffed.

'She loved Mrs Barbara. We all did. Maybe she couldn't handle it...'

Angus took a deep breath. And now it was time to take ownership in his hands.

'In light of all the events, we'll appoint a psychologist for one-to-one sessions. Starting as soon as possible. This will be anonymous but I hope professional help is going to help you cope with that. If you have any other concerns, please reach out to me. I don't want anything to build up to the level that leads to another tragedy. Understood?'

Slow nods followed. People were obviously confused and distressed. Angus was surprised he managed to stand calm through all of this himself.

'The club will be closed for today with only the restaurant running. You're on paid holiday but if you want to help the waiters, please feel free to do so. No... other services than food and drinks. Now, Mr Fox, you follow me.'

Without a word, both of them squeezed through the group that slowly started to dissipate. They walked upstairs and entered a room left to the one that witnessed the tragedy.

'You'll arrange the shrink,' Angus started. 'I don't care about the costs. I'm not going to have this place turn disarray over what happened. Likewise, you'll handle the police if possible. You're the manager, take the fucking ownership,' he continued, feeling his anger rise. He didn't care, though. 'Understood?'

Fox was smart enough to see the storm coming. He said 'yes,' then moved back to the door.

'Mr Fox,' the man looked behind his arm and turned back to Mackinnon. 'Find Catherine's relatives. Keep me posted. Contact Mr Briar and together do everything to keep the press out of this shit.'

'What about you?'

'I'm coming back home. You can call me if there's anything urgent but I've got my own stuff to deal with. Since it seems like my mother trusted you, I'm obliged to do so as well. Do not fail me.'

The manager seemed to understand the veiled threat, as he withdrew with his phone at the ear, waiting to get through to someone.

The moment the door closed, Angus banged his fist over the wall and sobbed. Why, of all people, it had to be him? His body shook in a spasm and, after a moment, he let it slide down to the floor. He sat, legs crossed, then lit a cigarette. After a moment of thinking, Mackinnon took out his phone, then started googling. Having found what he was looking for, he dialed the number.

'Laurent? It's Angus. Hey, how are you, pal?' He forced himself to laugh. 'Yeah, I'm back in Edin for the foreseeable future. I think I need someone I trust to get pissed together. And a tarot reading. Maybe not in this order,' he listened to the voice on the phone, then nodded slowly and took out a pen out of his pocket, trying to open the folder at the same time. 'Give me your mobile, I'll text you the address.'