Page 109 of The Altar Girls

‘Where was she?’

‘Who?’

‘The dead girl that you saw?’

‘Behind the cathedral. And the other was at St Patrick’s.’

‘Something to do with the priests, then?’

‘I work for the priests, in case you’ve forgotten.’

‘I’ve forgotten a lot of things.’

‘There are a few new priests there. Keep telling me I’m retired, even though I turn up for work most days. Retired? Me? At my age? I’m too young to be sitting here day in, day out, knitting. No, I love my job.’

Somewhere in the recess of her brain, Rose had a memory of Betty being ill. It was there, a thread… and then it was gone.

‘So what do you think?’ Betty prompted.

Rose knew her face was blank. She bent her head to her knitting, the stitches forming in quick-fire succession. ‘Don’t know what to think.’

‘One of them did it.’

‘One of who did what?’

‘The priests! One or both of them killed those two little girls.’

‘Two girls?’ Hadn’t Betty only mentioned one? Maybe. What had she said? An altar girl. Yes. That was it. Rose smiled as Betty continued.

‘Are you even listening to me? It’s a sad business.’ Betty blessed herself. ‘I was their chaperone for choir.’

‘Did you tell the guards?’

‘Of course I did, but I don’t think they listened to batty old me.’

‘You’re not batty,’ Rose said, quickly adding, ‘nor old.’

‘And then there was that funny little boy who was there. Come to think of it, he wasn’t that little. He was almost as tall as me.’

‘Where was he?’

‘At the cathedral. Skulking around. You know how kids are.’

‘What was he doing there?’

‘I was thinking that maybe he killed the little girl.’

‘Didn’t you say the priests killed her?’

‘Did I? Gosh, my mind isn’t what it used to be.’ Betty stared hard at Rose, and Rose had to resume her knitting to avoid the vacant stare.

‘He gave me his number on a card,’ Betty said.

‘The priest or the boy?’

‘That nice man. The detective.’

Hadn’t Betty said it was a woman? Maybe not. ‘Why did he do that?’