Page 35 of Death on a Scottish Train

“I’ve never been to his home, but that doesn’t surprise me,” she said.

She’d never been to her brother’s home? That seemed odd.

“Yes, since he was a young boy. He always had train sets and could be quite a bother about wanting to take train rides. Our father encouraged it and would buy him anything he wanted when it came to trains.”

“You didn’t approve?”

Her eyebrows rose. “They say parents are not supposed to have favorites, but my father clearly did. When my mother and he divorced, he spoiled my brother. I on the other hand, didn’t exist.”

I frowned. “That must have been difficult.” She didn’t seem the type to share something so personal, which probably meant she still held a grudge. I couldn’t blame her.

I’d had a difficult relationship with my mother after my father had died. She was more or less absent until much later in my life. Luckily, I had a loving grandmother. And in the end, my mother made amends before she died.

“Aye, it was. I became quite fond of books as an escape.”

I wasn’t sure what to do with that information. “Books can be a comfort.”

“Agreed, it’s one of the reasons I became an editor,” she said.

I’d never met anyone in publishing. “What kind of editor?”

“I edit mainstream fiction and business books for a publishing company in England.”

“Oh, so you really did turn your passion for books into an occupation.”

She nodded.

“You mentioned before that you hadn’t spoken to your brother in a year. May I ask what type of falling out you had?”

“I did not kill him,” she said. It was the first time she sounded the least bit Scottish. Her accent was more posh English. I’d learned to tell the difference.

“Of course, you didn’t. You weren’t even here. I was just curious for background purposes.”

She frowned and seemed to ponder this for a few seconds.

“For a time, he was my accountant and helped with my investments. That is until he lost the bulk of my retirement savings in some scheme. One that I think affected most of his clients.”

“That’s awful. What happened?”

“Other than I’ll have to work another thirty years before I can retire?” She didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in her voice.

“That must have been difficult.”

“Aye. I moved everything to a different company after that. They always say never mix family and business. I learned that lesson the hard way. Never again. Not that I have any family left. Still, that didn’t keep him from asking me for more money.”

“He wanted you to invest again?”

“Yes. A year ago, only a few months after I lost everything. Can you imagine the gall of him?”

I shook my head.

“He said that every investment came with risks, as if that excused his bad business sense.”

“Did you ever meet his business partner? Or anyone from the office?”

She shook her head. “No. Most of the time if we met it was for the holidays, which we did at mine in Glasgow. But after he asked me for more money last year, that was it. I never had any further contact with him. So if you want me to tell you about his personal life, I haven’t a clue.”

She still sounded quite bitter about the financial fall out. I didn’t blame her. Losing her retirement had to have been rough.