Page 119 of Reinventing Cato
Cato gripped his hand hard as they sat and stared out over land that fell away and opened up in front of them. There was a glow in the sky from a town they couldn’t see and lights twinkling in a village they could.
“I bet the view is always different,” Cato said.
“It is. I’ve never seen it when it was snowing. I’ve also never been up here with anyone else.”
Cato turned to look at him. “It’s beautiful. Almost like sitting in space and travelling through the stars.”
“Yep.” Vigge chuckled.
“Snow makes everything look better. It hides all the rough edges, all the crap and the dirt. Until it melts.”
“Yep, but it falls again. No one gets through life without things going wrong. Shit happens. It’s how you deal with it that’s important.”
“Have you been reading self-help books?”
Vigge scooped up a handful of snow and pushed it onto Cato’s face.
“Hey!” Cato spluttered, and wiped the snow away. “Was that because I used the wordreadingorself-help?”
“I’m trying to cheer you up.”
“I know.” Cato leaned against him. “I don’t think there’s any hope of that. I just don’t want you to get into trouble for still associating with me.”
“Let me worry about that.”
“Was it your brother going missing that made you want to be a policeman?”
Vigge nodded. “I thought if I could stop another family hurting like mine had, then some good would come from Anders’ death.”
“Have you called the police in Scotland?”
“This morning. I talked it through with my boss and we both had a word with the police in Glasgow. There aren’t sufficient grounds for a search warrant. Not a surprise because that would be the same here.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Vigge shrugged.
“How come we both have messed-up lives?” Cato asked. “It doesn’t seem fair. Though I know better than to think life is fair. It was a hard lesson to learn when I was younger. I thought if I tried harder, worked harder, did what I was told, then everything would turn out okay. A bit of me still wants to believe that. I keep trying to convince myself I must have done something wrong. Probably that fucking ant I stepped on when I was a kid.”
“An ant?”
“I freaked out when I stood on an ant and crushed it. I can’t even kill flies. I waft at them to make them go away. Everything and everyone deserves a chance at life. I’m not a saint, but I’m not a bad person. I went down a dark hole after I broke up with Max and Louise. I had sex with people I shouldn’t have. But I never led anyone on. I always asked if they were in a relationship. And yeah, I know some probably lied, but that was their problem, not mine. I don’t understand why someone would want to wreck my life. I must have done something, but what? Trod on a fucking pet ant?”
Vigge put his arm around him. “I think there are people things happen to, and others who dance through life without issues. I knew when Anders disappeared that there wasn’t going to be a lot of dancing in my life. Now I keep thinking about Hendry and whether he was involved. There had never been one second that I’d wondered—what if he did it? Now it’s all I think about. And about you. But not about whether you killed anyone. I know you didn’t.”
Cato closed his eyes and pressed his face harder into Vigge’s chest. “I think we should go and see Hendry tomorrow or Saturday.”
Vigge sucked in a breath.
“Do you agree?” Cato looked up at him. “You’re not going to rest until you know whether you saw Anders’ scarf or not.”
“You’re right.”
“Then you have to look in that drawer. I think you should come up with a reason why you want to speak to Hendry and take me with you. On the way up there, we can think of why you need to leave the room—dodgy bladder or something.”
Vigge raised his eyebrows.
“Then go and look for the scarf while I distract him. If it’s not there, you have to decide whether to ask him about it anyway or put it behind you. If you can.”
