‘What can I do for you, Mr Wright?’ And why, he wondered, was a guy he was positive he didn’t know phoning him from Scotland?
‘It’s Martha … bless her.’
Jake sighed. He’d heard about these old folks making random calls. His wife, bless her, had probably passed away, and with nobody to speak to, the sad old guy had randomly phoned someone up, in the hope of finding a sympathetic ear.How, thought Jake,did he get hold of my name and number?As soon as Jake moved in, he’d organised his landline to block calls from unknown numbers and list his number as private. He’d also changed his mobile phone number. Unfortunately, that hadn’t stopped Marcus finding out where he lived. He’d given Lydia his new mobile phone number in case of emergencies. He’d regretted that.
‘Are you still there?’ Jake asked, listening to the rise and fall ofthe static, imagining he could hear voices out there in the ether. He didn’t want to put the phone down on a sad old man. ‘Where did you get my number?’ Jake frowned. He wasn’t living in the Ross Corporation’s apartment building with its added layers of security, and private unlisted phone numbers.
‘… Martha, bless her … not very well.’
Jake looked at his watch. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘She has … old letters. I’m try … get hold … people bef …’
Jake understood. Mr Wright’s wife was dying, and he was trying to contact old friends and acquaintances who might like to see her before she died. ‘Look, I’m so sorry, but you have the wrong number. I don’t know you or your—.’
‘Martha – her name … Martha.’
‘No, sorry, still doesn’t ring any bells. Well, I hope you find who you’re looking for,’ said Jake, trying to wind down the conversation and bow out gracefully before he lost his temper and told the old man to sod off. The sound of the static was really getting on his nerves.
‘… name in … letter ... William Ross …’
‘William?’ Now he had Jake’s attention. And now it explained why Mr Wright had made this call, because trying to speak to William in person would be virtually impossible. Even if he did succeed in negotiating the Ross Corporation’s labyrinth of a phone system, he’d only get as far as William’s PA, who would not direct just any mere mortal to his office – William’s direct business line was for corporate calls only. Although William was spending far more time at home these days, Jake wasn’t about to give out his home number. That was strictly off-limits too – even though he couldn’t see the harm in a lonely old guy trying to trace friends of his nearly-departed wife.
‘I’m really sorry, Mr Wright, but I can’t give you that number.’
‘That’s alright ... already spoken ... Mr Ross says sorry to hear … bout Martha. Can’t come see ...’
That surprised Jake. Where had he got William’s home phone number from? There was one explanation. If they had been friends who went back many years, then that would explain how he had that number.’
‘Still … try … get hold … Ralph.’
‘Ralph? Who’s Ralph?’
‘I … don’t know.’
‘What’s in the letters?’ Jake’s interest was aroused.
‘No … not … phone … diff … cult … talk.’
Jake understood – the line wasn’t improving. And besides, these letters were obviously of a personal nature, nothing to do with Jake.
‘Will you come … see … letters?’
‘You wantmeto see the letter?’ He hadn’t planned to return to Scotland, but then he hadn’t exactly planned on being on holiday for the next week – he was at a complete loose end. Maybe this was just what he needed; perhaps Martha had something she wanted to pass on to William and this person called Ralph, and if they couldn’t make it in person, then he was the next best bet. Why not help an old guy carry out a last wish for his wife? Jake was definitely warming to the idea.
Over the phone, Mr Wright was trying desperately to persuade Jake through the static that he’d enjoy a trip to Scotland.
‘Never mind that,’ Jake said. ‘I’ll come.’
‘You will?’ This was followed by a particularly loud burst of static. ‘That’s … fantas … thank you … Martha … really app … ciate it.’
‘Just let me get a pen to write down your address. I’ll try and catch the first flight out, and I’ll phone you as soon as I arrive, Mr Wright.’
‘Call … Arnold.’
Jake wrote down the address that Arnold gave him and wasstill holding the receiver to his ear after he heard Arnold click off and the line go dead. He sat like that for a full minute before slowly replacing the receiver. He stared at the address. If he had known just where exactly in Scotland Arnold was calling from, he wouldn’t have been that eager to agree to the trip; this was most definitelynotwhat he’d had in mind for a holiday.
Jake picked up the phone to ring Arnold back and tell him he’d changed his mind before realising Arnold had not given a return number. He was about to dial directory enquiries. Then he thought about how he hadn’t been back to Scotland for months; not since the accident. He knew it was about time he made the trip. Perhaps it was fortuitous that he should get this phone call now.
