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With a sigh, she extracted herself from his grip and sat on a hard armchair. He preferred sturdy furniture. Said it was better for his back. No thought for her comfort, but she’d learned to live with it.

‘Really, Denis, this is getting too much for me. I need to have some space to myself. You are crowding me out.’

‘You know it’s because I love you. I’m trying to protect you.’

Protect yourself, more like, she thought. ‘It’s too much. You’re smothering me.’

‘For fuck’s sake, woman. Answer what I asked you and then we will sit down with a nice cup of tea or a glass of wine. Maybe a whiskey. Yes, I need a strong one.’

‘I’ll fix the drinks.’

‘Not until you answer the question.’

She wondered which question he meant, but dared not antagonise him further. Plus she feared she might not be convincing in her lies. Then again, she’d been lying to him her whole life, so she should just about manage this.

‘I had a wedding dress fitting.’

‘Not for that Boyd woman, I hope?’

‘Actually, yes. Grace came into the shop with her future sister-in-law. Lottie Parker.’

‘Mooney mentioned her. What has she to do with you?’

‘Nothing. She’s just here for the wedding.’

‘What had Grace to say for herself?’

‘Nothing much. Just that she loved my work and would recommend me to everyone she knew.’ She had done no such thing, but Ann wanted to divert his attention from her own subterfuge.

‘What was so taxing about all that? Did this Parker woman question you or something?’

‘No, it’s just that Grace is fussy. She wanted the belt raised and the strap tightened. And as it was the final fitting, I had to dothe alterations with both of them there looking at me. You know I find it hard to work under scrutiny.’ She hoped he didn’t see through her lies.

‘I have to work under scrutiny every day. It’s a pain in the hole, but if I want to get into government, I have to suffer the eejits around here.’

‘You love it, Denis. I know you do. But I prefer working in the shadows.’

‘You will have to come out of the shadows once the election is called. I’ll need a dutiful wife by my side. There will be interviews, soundbites, canvassing, hand-shaking, baby-kissing.’ He paused, and smiled at the image he was creating. Then he frowned. ‘I’ll have to hire someone in PR to tutor you for your new role.’

‘That won’t be necessary. I can act as good as the next one.’ Shit, maybe she’d gone too far. ‘I’ll make those drinks. I’ll have a whiskey myself.’

‘No, you need to put on some food. I’m starving and I can’t have you half cut. You might poison me.’ He laughed.

She thought it wasn’t a bad idea at all.

69

At the Wilson house Mooney had to leave his car on the road outside the closed sliding gate. He hopped over it, caught his trousers on a splinter of timber and ripped a hole down the knee.

‘Bad luck follows bad luck,’ he said aloud. Had he got the quote right? Didn’t matter. He was having a shit few days, that was all he knew.

He looked up at the imposing house and thought that there must be money in the radio business, because he didn’t think councillors got paid much. But what did he know? Not a lot, if his lack of progress on the murders was anything to go by. And now he had to take a statement about an alleged assault and find the missing wife of an obnoxious prick.

He rang the bell and waited. He noted there was no shrubbery or flowers. Resin driveway and a cobbled step. Low-maintenance.

The door opened. Ann Wilson stood there.

‘Yes?’ she said.