Five Little Words

by Jackie Walsh

  When I’ve finished with my petty complaints about unwanted callers and nappies that don’t fit, I apologise for my negativity and ask her to bring a bit of excitement to my day with some of her own news.

  The card sits at the front of my mind waiting for the right moment. I don’t want to jump in with the drama straight away because I know things will change as soon as I do.

  Amanda sits opposite me. Her face full of excitement as she tells me about her latest flings, the twenty-four-hour party she was at last week and the guy in her office who won two hundred thousand euro in the Lotto but is still first into the office every day.

  When she starts to tell me about someone else from her office, I interrupt her.

  ‘Amanda,’ I say, putting my arm out and placing my hand on hers like I’m looking for a pause button, ‘I have to tell you something.’

  Immediately she moves forward, closer to me. She knows this is not good.

  ‘You need to promise not to tell anyone else.’

  She nods.

  ‘I got a card in the letterbox.’

  Silence. Amanda’s eyes aren’t blinking.

  ‘Fuck.’ It’s Conor. I can hear his keys opening the front door.

  ‘Sshh… I can’t say anything in front of Conor, I’ll tell you later.’

  * * *

  Another hour passes. Coffee, feeding the baby, coffee, changing baby. Conor still hasn’t left my side and I can tell Amanda is eager to hear my news before she has to leave; she keeps looking at me as if to say, Get rid of him.

  Eventually, when Conor sits on the sofa looking like he’s never going to leave the room, Amanda asks me if we could go for a walk. I look over at Conor.

  ‘Fire away, I’m not going anywhere.’

  Out in the garden, I feel a cold chill cloak my body so I tuck my hands tightly into the pockets of my jacket. I tell Amanda about the card as we make our way towards the forest at the far end. Amanda is as shocked as I was. Even though she has makeup on I can see she’s turned a different shade of pale. She hasn’t said anything yet. I hope she’s trying to digest the news and come up with a resolution. Eventually she speaks. Asking all the obvious questions: when, where, am I sure I couldn’t have imagined it? But I’ve been there, hoped that, and kept on coming up with the same answer. Laura, you held that card in your hands. You read those words. Your husband is a murderer. This is not in your imagination. You did not hallucinate.

  On reaching the edge of the forest, Amanda continues to walk in through the thickening terrain. Her high-heeled shoes crush the dry golden leaves below her feet. For as long as I’ve known her, I’ve never seen Amanda in flats. ‘When you’re an inch short of five feet tall you learn to deal with the pain,’ she used to say. Until a few years ago when she said, ‘I think I’ve finally done it. My feet are now numb.’ We laughed that night. We laughed for the first time in a long time.

  ‘I don’t think you should tell him yet,’ she says, her head turning towards me. My cautious footwork has me straggling in her wake but I quicken my step to catch up with her.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You need to find out more. Are there any suspects yet? I know it’s only been a few days but I bet there’s plenty of local gossip. Get down to the shops or something – the butcher’s maybe? Everyone talks in the butcher’s in these places, or better again, the hairdressers? Go get a blow-dry. Find out what the local take is on this murder.’

  I’m listening intently. Amanda has a point. I know nothing about what happened; the news broke the same day as my waters, so I never got to hear much of the gruesome detail, let alone the gossip. I brace myself, taking a deep breath before I ask the question.

  ‘Do you think it could be true?’ I say.

  ‘What?’ Amanda stops abruptly and turns to look at me, the earlier excitement on her face nowhere to be seen. ‘Do you?’

  ‘No, God no, I’m just asking… I – I’m scared, Amanda. Someone is trying to hurt me. What if someone knows?’

  ‘Look at me.’ Her hands grab hold of my face. ‘No one knows anything, okay? This is a prank, one that you’ll figure out when you get a bit more information.’

  Tears are trickling down my face. It feels good to cry. To be with someone I trust. I know I can tell Amanda anything and she will always try to help me.

  ‘You need to find out what you can and keep me posted. Together we will figure it out.’

  ‘And you’re certain I shouldn’t tell Conor?’

  Amanda stalls for a moment, looking away from me towards the forest. ‘No, not yet. You will have to tell him at some point but not now.’ Moving her gaze to the sky, she inhales a deep breath before looking back at me. ‘Hopefully you’ll be able to tell him with a full explanation… who sent the card and why.’

  Amanda’s right. There’s nothing to be gained by upsetting Conor yet. Things are lovely at the minute and I’m not going to let the crazy person who sent the card ruin it.

  I hear the crunching of dry leaves. It can’t be us; we’re standing still.

  ‘Someone’s coming,’ Amanda whispers, adding to the covert atmosphere we’ve created. My heart speeds up for a brief moment before I see him. Pat shuffles past us, his hat tilted on his head. His eyes shift sideways to look at us, but he doesn’t say anything. I nod a hello.

  ‘So that’s the famous Pat?’ Amanda says.

  ‘Yep, that’s him. The old man who came with the house.’

  We laugh before making our way back towards the house. Conor is standing at the window looking out at us. He turns away when I notice him. My tears have dried up. I feel a lot better now that Amanda knows about the card and is going to help me figure it out.

  When we walk back into the kitchen, Conor is sitting with Shay in his arms. He smiles when we step in the door. ‘I hope you ladies had a nice chat?’ he says, winking over at me.

  I walk with Amanda out to the car. I’m about to close the car door when she says, ‘I told Mam. She didn’t say anything, but she knows about Shay.’

  ‘Do you think she might ring me?’

  Amanda puts her hand in the air to cut the conversation. ‘Not going there, Laura. I just want you to know she knows.’

  I wave Amanda down the driveway and out onto the road until her car disappears around the bend. So, Mam knows she has a grandson. I wonder will she call me? I’d love to call her, just to hear her voice, but I tried so many times in the early days. I don’t think I could take another silent response. The piercing click of the phone going dead.

  Chapter Ten

  I’m taking Amanda’s advice: I’m going to mingle with the natives and see what I can find out.

  Conor is concerned that I’m planning to drive so soon after the birth what with the stitches and all, but I tell a little lie; I tell him that the nurse said I was to start back driving as soon as is possible, and that I feel much better. I wouldn’t take the chance if I didn’t.

  I’m slightly nervous driving out through the gates. It seems weird to be behind the wheel, travelling on my own again. By the time I reach the village, I’m back into the swing of it.

  There’s a small car park by the playground where a couple of cars are parked, but it’s mostly empty. I check my lipstick in the mirror before venturing out on to the main street.

  The first time I took these steps, the village gave me the feeling of being on holiday. Everything was strange, different, exciting. Living here was going to be wonderful. I would get to know everybody and everybody would get to know me. Little did I know what was in store.

  Three ladies are sitting in the coffee shop when I look through the window. This would be a good start; I’m sure they have plenty of opinions on what happened to poor Vicky, and maybe even let slip someone’s name who wasn’t happy about my marriage to Conor.

  I recognise one of the ladies from the Spar store down the street. She glances up but doesn’t acknowledge me.

  Maybe if I sit at a table next to them, take out my phone and just eavesdrop, I�
�ll overhear something of interest, or they might ask me to join them. With determination in my blood, I head for the door. There are two tall people entering in front of me. They push open the door and walk to the counter. They don’t belong here. I can tell by their stern faces and suited clothing. When I glance through the window again, I see the three women looking ominously at each other, nudging one another when they see who is walking in. They must be the detectives.

  My courage evaporates, replaced by a sickening feeling. That poor girl. They’re here for one reason only: to find out who killed Vicky Murphy. They’re not the regular police. The village only has the one detective, Fintan Ryan, a friend of Conor’s. He’s been to the house once or twice, nice guy, married with two kids. I wonder what Fintan Ryan would think if he knew about the card I received.

  Having decided against going into the coffee shop while the detectives are in there, I walk on down the road and arrive at the main Spar store. It’s the closest thing to city life in this place. The shop is modern, open two years, according to Conor. He said it replaced Murphy’s grocery store which had served the community for over sixty years. Grabbing a basket, I decide to saunter around. Hopefully I’ll bump into someone I know.

  Six tomatoes and a head of lettuce in, I see Ciara… I can’t remember her surname, and decide I have bait for my fish.

  ‘Ciara!’ I call out, waving as I walk over to where she’s standing reading the ingredients on the back of a packet of sauce mix. ‘Thank you so much for the card. Conor and I really appreciate it.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Congratulations. How’s the baby doing?’ She puts the packet back on the shelf.

  ‘He’s great, really good: sleeps, eats, does what babies do.’ I think about his continuous crying for hours this morning but I’m not going to rat him out on his first tantrum.

  ‘That’s great and you look wonderful yourself.’ Ciara casts her eye up and down my body as if inspecting it.

  ‘Oh, bit of a way to go.’ I say, holding my belly.

  ‘No, you look great.’

  I’m mindful that I’m looking for information. The compliments are very welcome but they’re not getting me anywhere. In the distance I see the older lady who lives in the house further down the road from us. She doesn’t see me.

  ‘I just saw two detectives going into the coffee shop, have you heard anything yet?’ I hear my words and realise I did that with the grace of a rhino. I need to be more discreet, slip it into the conversation or I’ll just sound nosy. Thankfully Ciara is nosy too. She shuffles closer to me.

  ‘Not much, they haven’t got a suspect yet, but I did hear there was blood everywhere. No sign of sexual assault, thank God.’ Ciara blesses herself when she mentions God. ‘And nothing was taken from the pub. Detective Ryan said she was lying there for hours before she was found, poor thing.’

  I’m listening intently, my mouth half open, when Ciara looks at her watch. ‘Got to go, the mother-in-law,’ she says, flashing her eyes upwards before moving on towards the checkout. I continue down the aisle. When I get to the butcher’s counter, I decide to buy some sausages and rashers. Maggie will go on about the fat content, but I think I deserve a treat. Behind the rows of meat, Mick the butcher stands with his hands resting on the counter.

  ‘Can’t make your mind up, hah? Don’t know whether ye want the cow or the pig, hah?’

  I smile back at him. ‘I’ll take the pig.’

  ‘What’ll it be, so?’

  * * *

  When I have everything in the bag, I leave the shop. I stand outside for a minute and look up the street at the setting. A row of small businesses, each with their own unique fronting, line each side of the road. How could someone have committed such a terrible crime here? And why? If there was no sign of sexual assault and nothing was taken, it wasn’t a burglary. Someone must have been trying to shut her up. But why? What did Vicky Murphy know?

  In the city, murders happen so often people are used to them. They’re shocked for a minute before turning on Netflix. But it’s different here. Everyone knew Vicky, she was one of their own. It’s like the village itself was targeted. The death of Vicky will be remembered here for years to come. She was well liked. Other than that, and the fact that she was a barmaid, I don’t know much more about her.

  Happy to have some news for Amanda, I stroll back to the car. Amanda’s reaction had puzzled me a bit. I didn’t expect her to be so concerned, so adamant I pursue the culprit behind Conor’s back. I hope she doesn’t think Conor is the murderer. Or that I’m in danger. Whichever it is, I’m glad to have her by my side.

  I pass by Georgina’s Hair Salon. I’ve never actually had my hair done here before. Up until a few weeks before Shay arrived, I had made the trip to Dublin to The Hair Shop in the arcade where I always got my hair done. I’ll have to stop that. I need to start trusting and supporting the locals more if I want to fit in. I could buy the odd piece to wear in Harriet’s Closet. Allow Bernie the beautician to remove my excess hair. But first, I’ll make an appointment in Georgina’s. Something I can easily undo if needs be.

  Pushing on the gleaming pink handle, I enter the premises. A woman in her fifties beckons me over to where she is sitting behind a large glass table. It’s pretty chic in here. The spotless mirror on the wall opposite tells me I’m doing the right thing. My hair is a mess.

  ‘Laura, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes… yes…’ I’m a bit taken aback that she knows who I am but I had probably been pointed out to everyone and anyone when I first arrived. There she is… his new girlfriend… her name is Laura.

  ‘I’d like to make an appointment to have my hair blow-dried. Sorry, I don’t know your name.’

  ‘Georgina. I’m the owner of this establishment.’ Her exaggerated smile is accompanied by a nod of the head.

  ‘Hi Georgina, pleased to meet you.’ I put my hand out to shake hers but she’s pulling out a book from under the counter and hasn’t seen it.

  ‘So you decided to give us a shot.’

  I’m slightly confused by this comment – is she pleased or being sarcastic? I don’t know what to say, so I just nod. Lifting her face from the book she asks me when I was thinking of having it done. She tells me she has an appointment at ten thirty tomorrow morning. I take it, hoping that, come ten thirty in the morning, Shay won’t be screaming for his mammy.

  Thanking her, I head for the door only to hear her call after me.

  ‘And don’t worry love, we’re fully qualified.’

  Why did she say that? Making out I think I’m some big shot from the city who wouldn’t be bothered with their little salon. The cheek of her! I’ve a good mind not to show up in the morning. But that would only give her more reason to dislike me. No, I’ll go, build bridges. If people around here think the city girl believes she’s too good for the place, I need to let them see that’s not the case. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. The truth is, I feel lucky to be here at all, to be getting a second chance.

  Chapter Eleven

  Later that night when Conor is in his office off the hallway, I decide to ring Amanda and fill her in on what I’ve discovered so far. I’m surprised at how relaxed I’ve become since dragging Amanda on board.

  She answers the phone after two rings. ‘Well, what did you find out?’

  ‘I met Ciara, one of the girls who was at the baby shower, and she told me there was no sexual crime and no burglary. That wasn’t in the paper.’

  ‘Did she mention anything about a suspect?’

  ‘She said they hadn’t got one yet, and she got her information from the detective so it’s probably true.’ Amanda remains quiet on the other end of the phone. ‘I don’t think she’d have been telling me all that if she thought Conor had something to do with it. Do you?’ Amanda doesn’t answer me. Her silence worries me. ‘Amanda, do you think Conor could have done this?’

  ‘No… No… I was just thinking. You need to find out more.’

  ‘Well I did make an appointment
in the hair salon for tomorrow morning so I might find out more then.’

  ‘Good. I bet the woman is thrilled to be getting you as a client. Mrs Caldwell.’

  I laugh at this idea, but don’t tell her what really happened. I don’t want Amanda to have any excuse to dislike the people here. This is where I live now. These are Conor’s people.

  ‘Maybe,’ I say.

  ‘Anyway, see how you get on and ring me. I’ll get back down to you as soon as I can. You can show me the card then.’

  ‘But I don’t have it.’

  ‘What do you mean, you don’t have it? Where is it?’

  ‘It’s gone.’

  ‘Gone where?’

  ‘I don’t know. I put it with some other cards but it’s disappeared. It’s gone.’

  ‘Laura…’

  ‘Amanda, I know what you’re thinking. Did I imagine it or dream it? I can assure you I did not. That card was in my hand. Someone took it. It’s gone.’

  There’s silence at the far end of the phone. Then Amanda speaks.

  ‘Okay, I want you to do something for me… I want you to write a list of anyone who you think might have sent that card. Can you do that?’

  Jesus, I feel like I’m in the middle of some big investigation now. Amanda is determined I find out who sent the card. She’s still trying to protect her big sister.

  ‘I’m not sure, Amanda. Maybe I should just forget about it. After all, I know it could not have been Conor, he was with me the night Vicky was killed. He came to bed with me that night… maybe I should let it lie. If it was someone trying to upset me, that might be the end of it.’

  The sound of her dragging in a deep breath echoes down the line. ‘Laura, you have to find out who sent it, someone has it in for you… or Conor, or both. You can’t ignore this. What if something else happens? What if something happens to Shay?’

  My heart stops; buzzing swirls around my head.