Andy and Alex were at the restaurant before them, befitting their situation as hosts for the evening. There are several Pierre Victoire restaurants in Edinburgh, but Alex had voted for the version in Dock Place, which she claimed was the biggest, best and noisiest of them all.
`Sorry we're late. Blame the taxi this time, not the baby,' said Bob, hanging Sarah's overcoat, and his own, on a peg on one of the restaurant's many pillars. It was 8.30 p.m. and in every corner, dinner parties were in full swing.
`You're not,' said Andy. 'They've only just brought the drinks. Here, get outside these.'
He filled Sarah's glass, then Bob's, with the house champagne. 'Cheers,' he said, clinking glasses around the table. `Look, everybody. This evening was planned as a celebration and despite everything that's happened over the last thirty-six hours or so, let's try to keep that in mind.'
`For tonight, Chief Superintendent, you're the boss,' said Bob, taking a long sip of the champagne. 'In that case, I warn you, I may just get pissed.
Alex was staring across the table at Andy. 'Chief Superintendent?'
He smiled. 'Sorry — didn't I mention it? It's only a courtesy title these days, you know, just like your dad's. The review abolished the Deputy Chief and Chief Super ranks, but most Forces kept the titles because in practice officers need to know which Superintendent is the boss, and which ACC is the Chief’s Deputy. Anyway, enough of the shop talk; that's not what we're here to celebrate.'
He turned to Sarah, sitting beside him. `How're you doing?'
I'm fine,' she said quietly. 'I got it all out of my system last night. But I tell you something
— I couldn't take another day like it. No one should have to experience that twice in a lifetime.'
And how's wee Jazz?'
`He's fine too. We left him holding the floor with his Aussie nanny. She's staying over tonight.'
`That's a great arrangement you have: the girl being a qualified children's nurse, but having her own place, and living in only when you need her.'
Sarah nodded. 'It's ideal. Jazz is looked after, she keeps the place tidy, and does the prep work on our meals, and on top of that, most evenings we have the house to ourselves.
Susan Kinture was very good about it when I told her I'd like to lure Tracey away from her. She said, "Fine. Bracklands is so bloody big, I can never find all the staff I have in here anyway!" She's a great lady, the Marchioness.'
Abruptly she sat up straight in her chair. 'But enough of our shop talk, too! Celebration, you said. A celebration of what?'
As if on cue, Alex brought up her left hand, which had been hanging just below the level of the table. The diamonds caught the candle-flame, and sparkled, yellowish, in the gloom.
The sapphires, at the heart of the design, shone midnight blue.
`Hey,' said Bob. 'Another surprise.'
One you can live with, I hope,' said Andy.
`Hell, man, we've been through all that. I couldn't be more pleased.' Alex's eyes were shining as he kissed her, reaching out to shake Andy's hand at the same time. Sarah beamed and hugged them both, then grabbed Alex's left wrist.
`Let's have a look at it, kid.' She held Alex's hand under the candle, peering at the ring.
'Why, it's beautiful. It looks unique.'
It should be. Hand-crafted. by Laing the Jeweller. Designed by Michael himself.'
Bob whistled. 'Jesus. Whose idea was that?'
His daughter jerked a thumb at her fiance. 'His, believe it or not. I'd have settled for H.
Samuel.'
'Hall,' Bob grunted. 'Why change the habits of a lifetime?' He refilled all four glasses.
'Time for a toast. Let's be traditional for once. The happy couple!' His wife echoed his words, and together they drained their glasses.
`Good stuff that,' said Sarah. She poured two more refills, adding, 'Let's have another toast. One we can all drink this time. To Michael Laing!'
Another bottle of champagne later, they were ready to do justice to Pierre Victoire's menu, with starters which included warm brioche with mushroom sauce, creamed scallops with smoked salmon, and melon with crispy bacon, and main courses which ranged from baked monkfish to venison casserole. The clamour of the evening roared around them but they did not notice, because they were part of it.
The men chose cold beers as dessert, leaving their ladies to tackle the sticky toffee pudding.
`Here, friend,' said Bob, taking a swig of his Budweiser Straight from the bottle. `D'you realise wee Jazz is going to be your brother-in-law?' Andy choked on his beer, and Alex spluttered on her sticky toffee.
As the laughter subsided, Sarah looked across at her stepdaughter. 'My God, I forgot to ask. Have you set a date yet?'
`Give us notice of that one, for Christ's sake,' said Bob sincerely.
`Relax, Pops. We're in no hurry, are we, Andy?' He smiled and shook his head in agreement, perhaps not entirely sincerely. 'We just thought we should put a label on it; mark out the territory, so to speak. I want to get my studying over with before getting married. I've still got to finish my diploma year at University, then put in my two years in a solicitor's office, before I can think about going to the Bar.'
`That's all up to you, Babe, but do one thing for me.'
`Name it, Father.'
`Don't make any formal announcement for a few weeks, and keep the ring out of sight.'
`Why?' Her face clouded over.
`Because if Andy's appointment as Head of CID, and his engagement to my daughter were announced in virtually the same breath, the comedians in the Press would have a field day.
I've already filled in one bloke today for taking your mum's name in vain, and I don't want it to become routine procedure.'
She gulped. 'Sorry, Pops. I never thought. Our timing's lousy.'
Not your timing, love — God's. Or rather, someone else's!'