Page 40 of The Altar Girls

He’d pulled back against the wall, fear etched on his face in a silent scream. Jesus, she wasn’t that frightening, was she? And then it struck her. Was this Alfie?

‘Who was that man you were talking to? Did he scare you? You look scared.’

‘It’s only Father Pearse. He’s harmless. I was just working with him in the centre. He’s my friend. You’re not. Let me go.’

She held up her hands. ‘Gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I was blocking the path.’ She knew right well but she wanted to learn more. ‘Are you sure I can’t give you a lift home? The paths are very icy and it’s so cold.’

‘You sound like my mother, but you’re not and she’s picking me up, so…’

‘My name is Sinead. I’ve a little girl, Annie. She’s ten. You look her age. You might be in her class.’ God, but she sounded like a freak.

‘I’m not ten. And you’re a bit sick.’

He edged along the wall until he’d moved by her. As he looked back, she grabbed his sleeve. He opened his mouth to yell and she dropped her hand. What was she turning into?

‘I’m so sorry. I’m a reporter for the news. I was looking for Alfie and I thought you were him. I heard he was really brave last night when he found the girl’s body. I’d like to do an interview with him.’

‘The guards said I can’t talk to any reporters.’ He broke into a run, without missing a step on the icy path.

As she turned back to her warm car, she saw the priest coming towards her.

‘Hey, you! Leave the boy alone. Who are you, anyhow?’ His face was puce and his spectacles had fogged up.

‘I’m Sinead Healy. News correspondent. Just wanted a word with Alfie.’

‘Well it looks like he didn’t want to speak to you, so I’d advise you not to go near him again.’

‘I am sorry if I upset him, but he is a witness and that’s news.’

‘You can find your news elsewhere. That kid has been through enough. I’m sure the guards can give you an update through official channels. You don’t need to be harassing innocent children on the street.’

‘Were you there last night?’ she asked. ‘When Naomi’s body was discovered?’

As the priest walked into her space, Sinead backed up against the building, like Alfie had done a few moments earlier. Now she knew how he’d felt. Intimidated.

‘Listen here, madam reporter, this town can do without the likes of you stirring up trouble when we have enough of it already. Go home.’

His breath smelled of tomatoes. Pasta sauce? Perhaps. Whatever it was, it stole her appetite. She shivered in the chill breeze. His nose was running. He removed his spectacles to wipe them.

‘Father Pearse, is it? I live in Ragmullin and I have a little girl of my own. I want people to feel safe, but they also have a right to know what’s going on in their town. I’m sure you want our little ones protected too, don’t you?’

‘Of course, but that doesn’t give you the right to confront a young boy on the street. I am asking you nicely to leave us alone.’

He stuck his spectacles back on his red nose, then turned on his heel, a little too quickly. He slipped, then righted himself with an outstretched hand to the wall and flounced off, pulling his many layers tight to his squat bulk.

As she sat into her warm car, Sinead wasn’t quite sure whether to feel relieved that he’d stood up for Alfie or scared. Perhaps it was a little of both that made her turn the key on the running engine. The car shuddered to a stop and she stared out at the freezing fog descending on Ragmullin. It was like a veil of fear falling over the town, and she didn’t feel safe.

* * *

The search team on the cathedral grounds had dwindled. It seemed some of them had been relocated to St Patrick’s. Father Maguire divested himself of his jacket, gloves and scarf and went to the sanctity of his room so that he could catch his breath. He was barely through the door when he felt a presence behind him.

‘Dicky, you need to knock.’

Father Pearse ignored him and walked to the window. He looked out, then turned back.

‘Listen, Keith, she rattled me.’

‘Who?’