Frozen in Crime

Chapter 2 A Stranger in Town

Amaryllis hadn't known what to expect from Jimbo's friend Mal. Yes, she knew he had trekked to the North Pole a couple of years before with a group of army colleagues in aid of something-or-other, and that he had been injured in Afghanistan rescuing hostages some time after that, but she was rather hazy about why he had turned up in Pitkirtly so close to Christmas when most people headed home to be with their nearest and dearest - well, nearest, anyway.

She was pleasantly surprised when he at last arrived at the Queen of Scots. He was tall, good-looking in a kind of military way, with short cropped hair, a slightly weather-beaten face and army-style boots which looked just right with jeans, and he reminded her a bit of an ex-boy-friend who had been in the US Marines. Instead of talking about himself and his exploits all the time, which would have been forgiveable under the circumstances, he showed a flattering interest in her and her life. Only a few moments into their conversation, while Jock McLean was getting the drinks in, he said unexpectedly,

'So tell me, what made you choose Pitkirtly, out of all the places you could have ended up?'

'I like it here,' she said, unwilling to go into her reasons, which were in any case now lost in the mists of time as far as she was concerned.

He smiled, his dark eyes sparkling. 'But it's so small!' he said. 'And quiet. I have a sense that you were meant for more interesting things. Epic events.'

She sighed. 'It would be nice to do something that made a difference, I suppose.'

Amaryllis was conscious from time to time that the activities she had engaged in during her career had sometimes been theoretically all that stood between Britain and Armageddon; however she had always been just a small cog in a very diverse and dispersed set of machinery, and the epic nature of her work had been hidden under a blanket of bureaucracy. But maybe there was still time... Maybe this stranger would show her the way.

Almost as the thought crossed her mind, she glanced up and saw Christopher standing in the doorway gazing at her. She couldn't quite fathom the expression on his face. It wasn't quite censorious, or panic-stricken, but it could have been somewhere in between.

'... sure you've made a difference before!' Mal was saying politely. 'And there's still time for you to go on an epic quest - if you want to, that is.'

She brightened a little. An epic quest - now he was talking!

'Here's your drinks,' said Jock McLean. 'Christopher's here!'

'Yes, I noticed,' said Amaryllis. She glanced quickly from Mal's dark lean face to Christopher's pale roundish one with the permanently bewildered expression, and smiled. The men were at opposite ends of the spectrum, both in terms of their physical attractiveness and, as far as she knew, in their aspirations.

Mal poured out wine for both of them. Jock sat down and leaned back in his chair, surveying the newcomer through shrewd eyes. Amaryllis never knew what he was thinking at the best of times. He seemed even more cryptic today. She hoped he wouldn't come out with something weird that would scare Mal away. She had a feeling it would be good to sit at Mal's feet for a while: to listen and learn.

Christopher came over and slid into the spare chair, setting down a glass of what looked like Old Pictish Brew on the table soundlessly, as if he were trying to be unobtrusive. He didn't usually have to make an effort, perhaps because being unobtrusive came naturally to him, she thought. She introduced him and Mal to each other. Christopher seemed a bit standoffish, but again that was more or less how he usually appeared. He probably wouldn't even comment at this point about the epic quest idea. She knew he liked to mull things over, sometimes for weeks or even months, before saying anything. Mal, on the other hand, must be accustomed to making decisions instantly in the heat of battle, otherwise he wouldn't have survived this long.