Page 49 of The Guilty Girl

‘I don’t have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend.’

‘Oh, that’s good. I mean about no one being pregnant, not about not having a boyfriend, though I don’t know what your mother would think of it. She can be prudish at times.’

‘Gran,’ Sean moved closer, ‘is it always better to tell the whole truth or is it okay to be economical with it?’

‘Oh.’ That was all she said, then she closed her eyes.

This was a waste of time, he thought.

Her eyes flashed open and she leaned forward. ‘Sean, I lived with a lie for over forty years, and when the truth came out, it almost destroyed me and your mother. You might think it’s better to lie, but no matter how clever you believe you are, the truth eventually makes itself known.’

‘That’s what I thought. Thanks, Gran.’

‘Do you want to tell me what it’s about?’

‘It’s better not to involve you.’

‘I hope you’re not in any danger.’

‘So do I.’

‘Whatever you decide, be careful.’ Her eyes seemed to cloud over. ‘Before you go, will you go out to the boiler house and turn up the thermostat? It’s freezing in here.’

It was roasting in the kitchen, but Sean did as he was asked. When he returned, his granny was snoring softly, her head resting awkwardly on her shoulder. He fixed her blanket, closed the stove door and left her there while he mentally wrestled with his dilemma.

* * *

Trying to plan a memorial for Lucy McAllister, with most of the teachers already abroad sunning themselves, was next to impossible. Noel Glennon escaped the meeting as soon as he could without appearing rude and without revealing that he’d worked at Lucy’s party. He knew it would come out at some stage and fuck up his life. No question about it.

Taking a detour through the town park on the walk back to his apartment, he mulled over his earlier interview with the detectives, word for word. Had he inadvertently said the wrong thing? Something that would cast suspicion his way? More suspicion than his stupidity had already aroused?

It had been a mistake to help Lucy out. Hadn’t been his call, had it? He had been told it was an opportunity to keep a close eye on the teenagers. The lure of the hundred euros she’d promised had blinded him. Now he would never get it.

He had to admit he was lucky that most of the kids at the party had already finished school, or he could be in even bigger trouble when the truth was revealed. Then he thought of the small number of teenagers who’d be returning after the holidays. Kids loved getting teachers in trouble. That meant he might not have a job.

He sat on a bench and watched a duck trying to paddle across the pond. The whole thing had been a huge miscalculation. And now he was being dragged into a murder inquiry.

‘Lucy McAllister is dead,’ he muttered. There was no getting away from that fact. That beautiful, troubled girl was no more. She could not reveal the truth.

He knew things he could never tell. He’d been bribed into secrecy, and that secret now rested with him. Like a concrete block pressing on his chest, it suffocated him. Why had he allowed himself to get dragged into it, when he wanted nothing other than peace in his life? And money.

He curled his hand into a fist and slammed it down on the iron bench. Immense pain rushed up his hand and arm, like a cruise missile blasting off. He tried to straighten out his fingers, but the agony prevented him.

A mistake. He’d made a few mistakes, but now a girl had lost her life.

If everything came out, shit, he could end up in jail.

He had to do something about it now.

But what?

He nursed his painful hand for a moment longer, made up his mind and left the park, his steps slow and measured.

* * *

Cormac had been struggling to breathe in the claustrophobic interview room, so in the end, he allowed them to take their samples. He reckoned he’d have to provide them at some stage. His hands shook so badly that his fingerprints had to be taken twice. He wondered about the logic of taking prints when so many people had trampled through Lucy’s house. He hoped the guards knew what they were doing.

Out in the fresh air, a warning not to leave town ringing in his ears, he felt he’d been cooped up inside the station walls for days. Don’t leave town? Like he even had somewhere to go, besides dead-end Ragmullin.