Read Online Cold Grave by Craig Robertson - Free Book Online Page A

smile lit up his face and warmed her heart. He got up and held his arms wide for her like he always did. She knew this time the smile hid awkwardness but she ignored it. She needed the hug at least as much as he did – more.
    Now that she was closer, she could see there were a couple of bits of stubbly grey on his chin that he’d missed while shaving and a button undone about halfway up his blue checked shirt. Not much maybe but her dad was always a stickler for being neat and tidy. It worried her to see him letting his standards slip.
    ‘How are you, love?’ he was saying. ‘How was the traffic?’
    ‘Oh, not too bad at all,’ she replied, even though it had been awful. ‘How are you more to the point? Settling in?’
    He lied too. She could see it in his eyes, clear as day.
    ‘Och, yes. You know me. I can make myself at home anywhere. This place is fine. The people are nice enough.’
    ‘How’s the food?’ she whispered conspiratorially.
    ‘Bloody terrible,’ he whispered back. ‘Not a patch on your mother’s.’
    ‘What have they given you today?’
    The moment the words were out her mouth she regretted them. The look of loss in his eyes cut right through her.
    ‘Who can tell?’ he laughed eventually. ‘It all tastes and looks the same anyway.’
    Typical Dad. He would always do anything he could to save her from hurt of any kind. If only she could do the same for him.
    ‘Seriously, Dad,’ she persevered. ‘What’s it like in here?’
    ‘It’s okay. It probably sounds silly but I can’t take the fact they all know my name but I can’t remember theirs. They’ve all been here forever so when I come in they’ve only got one name to learn while I’ve got to try to remember all of theirs. And I’m not doing very well.’
    She let the pain of his comment show on her face.
    ‘Hey, don’t worry,’ he laughed lightly. ‘I was never that good with names anyway.’
    She knew that was anything but true. She used to badger her dad to tell her about his old cases and he would sit her on his knee and reel off incidents, dates and names without ever having to pause to remember details. He’d had a mind like a vice.
    ‘You shouldn’t be in here, Dad. It’s not right.’
    ‘I’m afraid it is, love,’ he replied with a sad smile. ‘I’m just a burden to your mum and it’s not fair on her.’
    ‘Mum? Dad . . . Mum wouldn’t want you in here.’
    Her mum had died five years earlier from breast cancer. Dad had been heartbroken but he’d taken the burden for both of them, as brave and strong as always. It had been the single most devastating event in his life and yet, for now, he seemed to have forgotten it.
    ‘I know she never complained,’ he continued. ‘But that’s your mum for you: she’s not the complaining type. But that doesn’t mean she deserves to have to wet nurse someone who can’t remember if he’s eaten or when he last changed his . . . um . . . his socks. See? I can’t even finish a bloody sentence sometimes.’
    She knew better than to challenge him; getting upset only made him worse.
    ‘I can pop over more often and see how you’re doing. I should be doing that anyway.’
    ‘Rachel, you’ve got your own life to lead. Anyway, this bloody thing means I can go haywire at any time. I wandered out for a walk last week and didn’t even tell your mum I was going out.’
    ‘Lots of people do that, Dad.’
    ‘It was raining. Raining and cold and I didn’t even think to take a jacket. I was soaked to the skin by the time your mum found me. It’s not fair on her.’
    Narey could feel a tear rising to her eyes but fought it, the same way she choked back the lump in her throat. It was the last thing he’d want to see and she wasn’t going to make him endure it.
    ‘It’s not fair on you either, Dad.’
    ‘Ach, well, you get what you deserve in life.’
    ‘Not that again. You’ve got to stop feeling guilty, Dad. It was nearly twenty years ago. You can’t keep beating