Page 9 of The Altar Girls

‘Sit down, Ruth. Detective Kirby here can make you a cup of tea.’

The woman narrowed her eyes at Kirby. He shrugged towards Lottie as if he had never made tea in his life.

‘I don’t want tea,’ Ruth said. Calmer now. Too calm. ‘Tell me why you’re really here. Is it to do with Isaac?’

The ice in her tone might have been a manufactured facade, perfected over years of having to deal with her husband, and Lottie answered her softly.

‘No, it’s just about Naomi. You will need to make a formal identification, Ruth, but I’m afraid that we are confident the body is that of your daughter. She was found lying in the snow behind the cathedral around eight o’clock this evening and—’

‘Eight? No… It can’t be her… you’re wrong. It’s not my little girl.’

‘I’m sorry, Ruth. I’ll send a family liaison officer to stay with you, though it could be morning before I get someone.’ Racking her brain, Lottie wondered how Detective Maria Lynch would deal with this news. Then again, she could always get Martina Brennan to do it. Feck it, she’d already asked for Martina to be sent to Willow Devine’s family.

‘I don’t need anyone to hold my hand. It’s not my daughter you’re talking about.’

Shaking her head wearily, Lottie was at a loss as how to convince the woman. Change of approach, she decided.

‘Did you not get a text alert at eight this morning to say the school would be closed today on account of the bad weather?’

‘How could I? My phone was dead all day and I only just remembered to charge it. I’ve two children to care for here so I don’t have time to be on the bloody phone.’

‘And you heard nothing from Naomi at all today?’

‘No. She doesn’t have a phone. I barely have enough to feed them. My sinner of a husband left me on the breadline.’

‘But it’s after ten o’clock now. Were you not worried?’

‘I… I didn’t stop to think. Bethany wasn’t well today and I’ve been minding her, and Jacob is a handful too.’

The biblical names snagged something in Lottie’s brain, which she parked for now. ‘Your daughter left early this morning and never came home all day, and you were not worried at all?’

‘She had choir practice this evening!’

‘So she served Mass this morning, and then she was to go to school and to choir practice tonight. What was she to do between school and choir – which by the way was also cancelled?’

‘I told you! She usually goes to a friend’s house.’

‘What friend?’

‘I can’t remember. Why all the questions? What is this? You tell me my little girl is dead, then you give me the inquisition.’

Lottie wasn’t relenting. ‘Was it usual for Naomi not to come home all day?’

‘When she had things on, it was normal.’

‘She’s only eight.’ Lottie curled her hands into fists on her lap and wished she didn’t sound so sharp, but by God, she was irritated. ‘She has no phone, no means of contacting you. Any mother would be worried at this hour of the night, but it seems you were not.’

‘Don’t tell me how to raise my children! You know nothing about me or my family. We’re God-fearing people. But…’

‘But what?’

‘I never once considered He would take one of my children from me.’

‘Who are you talking about?’

‘You wouldn’t understand.’

‘Try me.’