Page 61 of The Altar Girls

‘You should be a detective, you know that?’

‘It’s not funny, Sam. What’s going on with your life?’

A car beeped behind her. She drove on.

‘My life is a bit fucked up at the moment.’

‘Mine is too, but I don’t go walking around drunk in sub-zero temperatures trying to kill myself.’

‘Boss, it’s been a long day and I could do without the lecture.’

‘Sure.’

She drove in silence, and when she pulled up outside Martina’s apartment, McKeown was fast asleep. She nudged his arm. ‘We’re here. Out you get.’

‘Oh shit, sorry. Thanks for the lift.’

‘Are you two back together again?’

‘No, but the wife kicked me out and Martina gave me a key. Couch for me, but better than the car.’

It took him a minute to haul his arse out and up the steps. Lottie kept her hand on the door handle in case he fell back down and she had to rush to help. But he negotiated his way inside the apartment. No streak of light from within to welcome him. He shut the door slowly and Lottie sat for a moment thinking about how humans danced with self-destruction. She’d had a lucky escape, and had Boyd to thank for saving her. She wondered if Martina would be Sam McKeown’s saviour, but felt he was too pig-headed to acknowledge his descent to ruin.

Rose’s house was silent as a graveyard at midnight. The light was on in the kitchen, but otherwise there were just shadows lurking in the darkness.

Lottie took off her coat, crept into the hall, flicked on the light and listened. She should be able to hear her mother’s shallow breathing, or even a snore, but there wasn’t a whisper in the house.

Rose’s bedroom door was slightly ajar. She pushed it in a little, hoping it wouldn’t creak and wake her. It didn’t creak and didn’t wake Rose, because her bed was empty. Lottie snapped on the light, her heart suddenly in her throat. It hadn’t been slept in.

‘Shit!’

After a quick search of the house, she was certain her mother was absent. Where was she? Who could she call? She conjured up images of Rose being pulled from the canal, or lying broken on the dark road after being hit by a vehicle or… A car pulled into the yard.

She snatched the front door open. Rose was parking her car, the car she hadn’t driven in months because Lottie had taken the key for fear she might forget how to drive and crash. Her wily mother had found the spare key.

She ran outside as Rose got out.

‘Mother, what the—’

‘Lottie, you’ll catch your death out in this cold, and how many times have I told you to wrap up warm in this weather?’ Rose brushed past, adding, ‘I’ll make you a hot cocoa. You must be perished, and you really need to put some meat on those bones. You looked an awful lot better when you were fat.’

Standing on the step, open-mouthed, Lottie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

In the kitchen, she watched Rose, still in her coat, fill the kettle and switch it on.

‘Where were you?’

‘Me?’ Rose looked incredulous. ‘Nowhere. Anyhow, since when do I report to you, missy.’

‘You took the car.’

‘It’s my car. I can take it if I want.’

‘But it’s dangerous to be out driving. You could get disorientated, especially in the dark.’

‘Wasn’t dark when I went out, so it wasn’t.’

It was like having an argument with a teenager, and Lottie knew she wouldn’t win this one.