Page 96 of Hidden Daughters (Detective Lottie Parker #15)

CONNEMARA

The sky was darkening quickly, with a mist rolling in from the sea. Lottie shivered, clutched her hands to her arms and turned to go back inside. Boyd was walking towards her holding a mug of tea.

‘That looked like a cosy chat,’ he said.

She smiled, glad he’d brought her a drink. Then he raised the mug to his own lips and drank. Oh-oh, she thought, this is not good. Like sister, like brother.

‘He was just filling me in on what Assumpta wrote in her notebooks.’

‘You’ve been spending a lot of time with Matt Mooney this week. A lot more time than you’ve spent with me.’

‘Are you jealous?’ She knew she shouldn’t have said it. Too late now.

‘For fuck’s sake, Lottie. What’s going on with you?’ He tipped the mug, intentionally spilling the remainder of his tea.

‘Nothing’s going on. I’m not the one who’s jealous.’ She felt a slow white fury build in her chest. He was out of order. She prayed he’d stop now, rather than making things worse. But of course he kept talking.

‘You insisted on putting yourself in danger when there was no need for it, for Christ’s sake.’

‘Mooney asked me for help on day one. Then he was struggling, so I helped where I could.’

‘He got assistance from Dublin. He didn’t need your “help”.’ Boyd even did air quotes, and this incensed her further.

‘You are a pain in the hole when you’re like this, Mark Boyd. There’s no talking sense to you.’

He sighed. ‘I really think we are done, Lottie.’

She heard the finality in his tone. Her lips quivered as her rage quickly died. This was not good.

‘We were going to buy a house together,’ she said. ‘We were to get married. Blend our families. Live happily ever after and all that. What happened to us?’

‘You. You happened. You can’t help yourself. You have to get involved even when it’s nothing to do with you.’

‘That’s unfair.’

‘Is it?’ He walked in small circles and turned to face her, waving the empty mug. ‘Can you deny it?’

She couldn’t. Not really. Her shoulders slumped. ‘I do what I have to do. Surely you know me by now?’

‘I thought I did, Lottie. I really thought I knew the real you. I thought you were able to prioritise me and your family, but no. I was wrong. The only thing you prioritise is your work. Do you want to know what I think?’

‘I suppose you’re going to tell me.’ She was resigned to whatever nail he was about to put in their relationship coffin.

‘I think it’s all a throwback to when Adam died.’ Spits of anger flew from his mouth as he spoke. ‘You buried your husband and then proceeded to bury yourself in the job.’

She was struck speechless for a moment before the words exploded from her lips.

‘How dare you! How bloody dare you, Mark Boyd! You’ve crossed a line, bringing my dead husband into this argument. That is the lowest you’ve ever sunk. For fuck’s sake.’ Her tears came then.

Much as she wanted to be strong, to stand up to him, she felt herself crumble. Fuck. No. She was not that person. Not the person he spoke of. She was not!

As he strode back to the house without another word, she calmed a little, wiped her tears and felt her breathing dip a notch away from hyperventilation. In the clarity of that moment, she had to admit there was a film of truth running through Boyd’s words. And that enraged her even more.

She turned away and headed out into the dark fields, to be swallowed by the descending sea mist.