The gardaí looked at each other, unsure how to react. PJ felt oddly wrong-footed by this display from Evelyn. There was something not right in this house. He glanced over and saw that Abigail was still standing silently by the door, her expressionless face giving nothing away. She couldn’t approve of her house being turned into a kennel, thought PJ.
Linus decided it was time to try and regain his professional authority. ‘Is now a good time to talk? We have a few questions.’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Evelyn replied. ‘Let me just get Bobby some more water.’
PJ raised an eyebrow. God forbid that Bobby ran out of piss, he thought.
Abigail opened the door a little. ‘I’m going out to the garden. Will you be all right, Evelyn?’
Evelyn turned from the running tap. ‘Of course. See you later. Lunch might be a little late. Florence said they’re doing school photographs today.’
‘Fine.’
‘Oh, just before you go.’ It was PJ. ‘I’ve been told that you actually saw Tommy Burke getting on the bus that last day he was seen?’
A stillness settled on the room. Evelyn stood holding the brimming dog bowl, and even Bobby seemed to sense that all eyes were on Abigail. She turned slowly.
‘Me? No. I heard people down in the village talking about it, that’s all.’
‘You don’t remember who told you, do you? It could be important.’
‘I’m not sure. Doubtless it was one of the sources of village news. It might have been old Mrs Byrne from the pub … Yes, I’m fairly sure that’s who told me.’ Abigail stretched her lips into a tight smile. The subject was closed.
PJ spoke slowly. ‘Well, isn’t that a strange thing? That’s the very person who said you were the one who saw him go.’
If the room had been still before, now it was frozen. Three sets of eyes transfixed by the grey-haired statue by the door. A moment passed, and then another. PJ held his breath.
A muscle twitched in Abigail’s jaw and then she spoke.
‘Isn’t that woman in a home, Sergeant?’ She glared at PJ, but he steeled himself to hold her gaze.
‘Yes. She is.’
‘Well I think that explains that. She must be confused.’ A beat. ‘Now I’ve got work to do. Excuse me.’ She turned to leave but then changed her mind. Deliberately not looking in Evelyn’s direction, she addressed the two men. ‘But if I had seen that boy getting on the bus, I would have happily waved him on his way. He had caused enough upset around here. As far as I’m concerned, it’s good riddance. He’s gone, he’s still gone and I’m glad.’ She paused, then turned to Evelyn. ‘If you need me, I’m just down in the far greenhouse.’
Evelyn nodded. ‘OK.’
Throwing one more look at PJ and Linus, Abigail left the kitchen, closing the door carefully behind her.
The silence she left was broken by Bobby, who got up from behind the kitchen table and rushed over to Evelyn as if an imaginary barman had just rung the bell for last orders.
‘Good boy!’ she cried and set the water down next to a second empty bowl sat amongst the debris of stained sheets of newspaper.
PJ cleared his throat. ‘Is your sister all right? She didn’t look herself, I thought.’
Evelyn shrugged. ‘I think she’s fine. She was complaining about an upset stomach. Maybe she didn’t sleep very well. Will I put the kettle on?’
The men looked at each other and then Linus took the lead. ‘Yes, a cup of tea might be nice. Thank you very much.’
‘I’ll make a pot. Please, take a seat. I’m afraid it will just be tea. There’s precious little baking gets done these days.’ She pointed to Bobby, who was now lying on the floor licking one of his front paws.
‘I’d say it’s made a big difference to you all having him around.’ PJ thought it best to keep the conversation general till they were all sat down. He wasn’t sure why Linus had asked for tea. Maybe he just fancied a cup. Odd, though, because he’d had about three mugs of it up at the barracks. Was he trying to endear himself to Evelyn for some reason?
I’m overthinking this, he thought, and stopped. Evelyn was speaking rapidly.
‘I’d forgotten how much work they are. I mean, we had dogs when we were kids, but I suppose Mammy and Daddy or the older girls did most of the looking after and cleaning. I’m not complaining. I love having him around. You know, a bit of life about the place, instead of just three old spinsters gathering dust!’ She laughed.
PJ and Linus, both unsure of how to react to her referring to herself as a spinster, just smiled.
‘How old is he now?’ Linus asked, reasoning that he should feign some sort of interest in the beast.
Evelyn was putting the teapot and mugs on a small metal tray. ‘He’s only six months. We’re hoping he might stop growing soon.’
‘Big paws,’ PJ chipped in, like an old farmer sizing up a cow for sale at the mart.
‘Don’t! That’s what everyone says!’ Evelyn put the tray on the table and sat down. She started pouring the tea. ‘So what can I do for you?’ It suddenly struck her that she didn’t know exactly why these men were here. She felt a vague sense of unease creep over her.
PJ turned to Linus, who began to speak. ‘The discovery of the infant remains has cast a new light on the body that was found at the end of last year. We just wanted to ask you some more questions. They are a little personal in nature, so I hope I don’t embarrass you.’
Evelyn raised an eyebrow and brushed some non-existent crumbs from her lap. She was listening intently.
‘When you were first interviewed a few months ago, you said you hadn’t been sexually active with Tommy Burke.’
‘That’s right.’
‘And is that still your answer?’
‘What? Yes. I mean, I wasn’t lying, if that’s what you mean.’
‘Nobody is suggesting that, but at the time you might have wanted to keep some things private that didn’t appear to be relevant. The dead baby makes a great deal of difference to the investigation.’
‘I understand.’
‘Were you aware of Tommy Burke being involved with anyone else?’ Then before Evelyn could speak he added, ‘Apart from Brid Riordan, of course.’
Evelyn wrapped both her hands around her mug and stared at the steam gently rising. ‘No. No, I never saw or heard anything, and I was in that house almost every day. To be honest, I can’t imagine he and Brid ever … Well, that was no love match.’
‘And what about other girls at the time? Were there rumours at school? Did anyone suddenly drop out or disappear for a few weeks?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I really can’t remember. I don’t think so. Certainly there were no stories about anyone that stuck.’
As if prompted by all this talk of sexual activity, Bobby sprawled himself wide on the floor and started noisily lapping at his nether regions. All three humans glanced down at the dog and then back at their tea. No one considered this the right time to make a comment.
Linus was frustrated. Normally he could read people. He prided himself in interviews on getting a feel for who was telling the truth and who was just playing for time. Evelyn gave nothing away. She just sat there with the hint of a smile playing across her lips.
‘How did you hear that Tommy had disappeared?’
‘Abigail. Probably Florence as well. They’d have heard it down in the village.’
‘And you never tried to contact him?’
‘I told Sergeant Collins all this months ago.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. I just wanted to be certain. Sometimes memories can be jogged.’
‘Even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t. It was a different world. I sometimes walked past the house to see if there was any sign of life, but there never was. After a few years even the house had disappeared.’
‘Fallen down?’
‘No, not exactly. The garden just took over until the place was completely hidden.’
‘It was fierce creepy,’ PJ added, trying to sound aut
horitative.
Linus and Evelyn turned to look at him, as if they were surprised he was still there.
Linus sighed. He had other questions in his head but he could tell he was going to get nowhere. He folded his notebook.
‘Well thank you for your time. And the tea,’ he added as he picked up his mug and drained it.
‘Yes. Thank you,’ PJ repeated and smiled at Evelyn.
They all got up and walked towards the door. As they left the room, PJ glanced back and saw Bobby squatting by the back door while a puddle of piss spread out around him. He wondered if he should say something but suddenly felt very tired. Fuck it, she’ll find out soon enough.
PJ didn’t enjoy being a passenger, and to make matters worse he had hardly fastened his seat belt when he realised that he should have taken the hint from Bobby and gone to the toilet in Ard Carraig. He would have to hold it until they got to the Riordan farm.
He told Linus to head back down to the village, before giving him more detailed directions. As they drove, the silence hung between the two men in the car. PJ decided to try and recover the slightly easier rapport they had had that morning back at the barracks.
‘How’s the baby?’
There was a tiny pause before Linus answered. ‘Fine. Fine.’
‘And your wife?’
A longer pause. ‘She’s well.’
‘I suppose the baby’s sleeping through now, is he?’
‘Yes. Yes, he is.’
Realising that PJ wasn’t going to let the subject drop, Linus exhaled slowly and said as casually as he could muster, ‘To tell you the truth, myself and June are on a bit of a break.’
PJ froze. This was not how this conversation was supposed to be going. How had his half-hearted attempt to make small talk ended up here? He rubbed his slightly sweaty palms on his thighs and wondered what the appropriate response might be. ‘Oh. I’m sorry to hear that’ seemed to do the job.
Linus paused before he said quietly, ‘Actually that’s not the truth. June wants us to tell people that for the time being, but it’s over.’ Before PJ could speak, he continued, ‘It’s for the best. This job, it’s … well, it’s hard.’
PJ was really struggling to think of something to say, but he knew he couldn’t just let the car return to silence. ‘Yes, I suppose it is.’
Linus threw him a look. ‘Have you ever been married yourself, Sergeant?’
PJ was horrified. He hated talking about himself in any circumstances, but the thought of having to discuss his romantic history with Dunne was too awful to contemplate.
‘No. No, I never got round to it.’ He gave a half-smile and hoped that would be an end to the subject.
‘Do you not get lonely out here all by yourself?’
Why was Linus asking these questions? He couldn’t really want to know about the emotional well-being of Duneen’s sergeant.
‘Sometimes.’ PJ stopped.
‘I sort of envy you. Out here by yourself. I love the job but I can get very cheesed off with the shower I have to work with. What’s that phrase? “Hell is other people”, or something like that.’
PJ felt a rush of recognition. ‘I know what you mean. I was in Thurles for about ten years before here, and that was the hardest part. Duneen might have been going a bit too far in the other direction, though.’ He gave a little laugh.
‘Did you always want to be a guard?’
PJ had to think for a moment. ‘No. Not really. I did the bank exam after the Leaving and got into AIB. I stuck it for a couple of years thinking it might get better, but I hated it. I’ve never known boredom like it. I had thought about the guards but I just thought I couldn’t because of, well, you know.’ He patted his stomach. ‘I’ve always been on the heavy side. Anyway, there was this guard used to come into the bank and he was nearly my size, so I began to think about it. Then one night I’d had a few and I saw him in the pub, so I just walked over and asked him straight how he managed.’ He laughed, and so did Linus. ‘I was lucky he didn’t punch me.’
‘You were.’
‘It turned out the fitness requirements were a bit of a joke. Not like now. You know yourself.’
‘I do.’
‘I was never the top trainee,’ PJ thought back to the self-defence classes he had endured, red-faced and struggling to catch his breath, ‘but I managed to graduate. And do you know what? It was all worth it for the look on my parents’ faces that day. I don’t think they had ever been proud of me before. The picture of me in my uniform standing in between them was on the sideboard alongside my sisters’ wedding photographs till the day my mother died.’
PJ was suddenly aware that he had been talking for quite a long time, so he stopped.
Speaking in a dry monotone, Linus volunteered, ‘My parents didn’t come to my graduation. My father was a doctor and they never forgave me for becoming a guard.’
PJ glanced at Linus’s face but it gave nothing away. He was looking straight ahead with his neat hair slicked back and the knot of his tie tight against his throat. He was obviously still pained, but there was nothing PJ could say. He wasn’t capable of tending that sort of wound. He waited to see if Linus was going to say anything else, but he didn’t, so the conversational shutters slowly slid down.
Looking out the window PJ became aware of where they were on the road. ‘You want to take the next right after that cream bungalow.’ The indicator began to click.
It was the little fist. Brid couldn’t get the image of it out of her mind. She remembered so vividly holding Cathal in the hospital and being mesmerised by his tiny hands. The shine of each perfect pink nail, each one like a delicate exotic seashell. That was her overwhelming memory of both births. Just smelling and kissing their fingers. Anthony had arrived at the bedside and Brid had been horrified by the sight of his huge rough weathered hand touching the baby. How was it possible that her little boy’s silky flawless skin would one day become as leathery and calloused as the flesh of the hand that was stroking his chubby little leg?
She kept thinking of the person who had placed that tiny body with its miniature limbs and unblemished skin into the ground. How could you shovel dirt on top of something so clean and pure? Not for the first time she felt herself well up. Who was the mother of that child? How was it possible that nobody knew? And where was Tommy Burke? She had liked the thought that he was dead and buried up on the farm. Well, not liked exactly, but the finality of it helped her. It had closed a chapter of her life that she hadn’t fully realised was still open. Now there was a strange uncertainty that left her feeling unsettled. What if Tommy got wind of everything that had happened? Might he come back to explain himself? Christ, what would Anthony do then?
She could recall vividly how she’d felt sitting in the car with PJ up on the headland. Her focus trained on her life with Anthony and the kids. She had felt cut free from the past but now it was as bad as ever, maybe worse. For some reason she still associated Tommy Burke with a happy time in her life, which she knew was nonsense. Even all those years ago it had been a form of torture, but for a few months people had treated her differently, looked at her as if she had won a competition, and that was the feeling she couldn’t shake. Tommy himself was just some stupid boy and what she had felt was nothing more than a crush. She had often imagined what would have happened if the wedding had gone ahead: in every projected scenario, the marriage was a disaster. Sometimes he left her for Evelyn; in other versions he got drunk and abusive, and occasionally she fell in love with a Greek god who had somehow ended up as a labourer on the farm and they eloped up the country to live happily ever after.
Brid was baking. It was a part of her new life. She had resolved to get more involved in school activities and make the teachers respect her, so she was breaking up nuts to add to her coffee and walnut cake for a fundraising sale. There was something comforting about measuring the ingredients out on the old-fashioned weighing scales that her mother had used before her. She liked the familiarity of the ch
ipped cream enamel, and the smooth cold weights mottled with age.
Despite her best efforts to fit in at school, she still felt like an outsider. She would stand awkwardly near the table laden with cups and saucers watching the other mothers chatting and laughing. Sometimes she would see faces she recognised having coffee together on one of the small tables at the front of the hotel in the square. They were clearly friends, and while Brid knew what that meant, she no longer had any idea how to go about it. She wasn’t shy, but whenever she approached a small group of women at one of the school events, after some smiling introductions she found her mind wandering as the others discussed the new parking scheme or some politician who had made a fool of themselves on The Late Late Show last Friday. If being lonely meant not having to talk about shit like that, then she would choose it every time over having coffee dates and ladies’ lunches.
The noise of a car engine brought her back to the kitchen table. She wiped her hands on a tea towel and walked to the back door. Anthony hadn’t said he was coming back for his lunch. A silver Merc. She didn’t know anyone who drove a car like that, but then both doors were opened and PJ eased himself from the passenger seat. She hadn’t seen the driver before. Early forties, a beige mac, hair that had clearly been styled using a mirror. They were walking towards the front of the house. Her heart beating faster, she opened the back door and called out, ‘PJ! I’m back here.’
The sergeant turned towards her voice and smiled. ‘Hello!’
The two men started walking towards Brid. Linus leaned in and whispered, ‘PJ, is it? I didn’t realise you were such good friends, Sergeant.’
PJ blushed and they walked to the door in silence.
‘Come in, come in.’ Brid ushered them into the kitchen, her breathing now fast and shallow. What had they come to tell her? Was Tommy back? Did the baby have a mother?
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