‘This house is like an ice box,’ Lottie said, as she banged the front door behind her. ‘Sean? Chloe? Katie?’

She dropped the Lynn O’Donnell file on the table and went to check the boiler in the utility room. The switch was on, but there was no heat. Had it run out of oil? Opening the back door, she glanced out at the darkness. She turned on the exterior light.

Sean slouched into the kitchen. ‘What’s all the shouting about?’

‘Will you put on a pair of shoes and check the oil tank?’

She watched as he climbed up on the concrete wall surrounding the tank and plunged in the measuring rod. He brought it back and she examined it.

‘Quarter full,’ she said. ‘So why is the boiler not working?’

‘Turn it off and back on again,’ Sean said. ‘That’s what I do with my computer.’

She tried it. The boiler blasted into life.

Sean smiled. ‘Works every time.’

Emptying the washing machine, she piled the laundry into the dryer. Back in the kitchen, she searched the refrigerator for something to cook.

‘Mam?’ Katie’s voice echoed down the stairs. ‘Can you give me a hand with this case?’

‘In a minute. Just figuring out dinner.’ Taking a tray of mince from the fridge, she found a packet of pasta and began to cook.

‘I’ll have to eat later,’ Sean said. ‘Boyd is taking me training.’

‘Shit, I forgot about that. I’ll be up in a minute, Katie.’

Glancing at the file on the table, Lottie knew it had been a mistake to bring it home. She’d try to grab an hour to go through it at some stage.

The doorbell chimed and Sean belted down the stairs to reach it first. Boyd stepped into the hall. ‘Well, bud, are you ready?’

‘Give me two minutes. Mam’s in the kitchen.’

Lottie turned from the stove. ‘I’m glad you’re taking him.’

‘It’s no problem. I see you brought work home with you.’ She paused, wooden spoon in hand, as he flicked open the file cover. ‘I thought you had enough work without this.’

‘I want to have a read of it.’ Why was she explaining herself to him? ‘I went to the nursing home and met Queenie McWard. Don’t laugh, but she claims she heard a banshee the night this Lynn O’Donnell went missing. Won’t do any harm to have a look at the file.’ She knew she was babbling. Shut up, Parker.

‘I know you, Lottie, and I don’t think you should get stuck into something that will suck the life out of you.’

‘I won’t.’

He grunted.

‘I’ve to drive Katie to the airport in the morning. I’ll be in the office by nine.’ She turned to the cooker and stirred the mince vigorously, defences raised. ‘Make excuses for me if McMahon asks.’

Her phone vibrated on the table. Boyd picked it up. Snatching it from him, she saw the caller ID and switched it off.

‘I saw that,’ he said. ‘What’s he ringing you for?’

‘How would I know? I didn’t answer it.’

‘Why not?’

‘Boyd, would you ever—’

‘Ready when you are.’ Sean arrived with his gear bag on his back and a hurley stick in his hand.

‘See you later,’ Lottie said, as the door closed.

‘Mam!’ Katie shouted. ‘Chloe is melting my head.’

‘Coming.’ Lottie gave a final stir, lowered the heat and made her way up the stairs.

Why had Father Joe been ringing her? Should she ring back? No, he would call again if it was something urgent. Probably only wondering when he could inter Mrs Green. She had quite enough problems without Father Joe.

---

Canal Drive was dark and gloomy as Kirby joined Gilly at the top of the steps to Mollie’s apartment. She pressed hard on the bell. No answer. She got out her keys.

‘We’re going to miss the start of the play,’ Kirby said.

‘It’ll just take a minute.’ She turned the key and entered the flat. ‘Mollie? It’s only me.’

‘Come on, this is invasion of privacy.’ Kirby edged back down the steps.

‘She gave me a key!’

‘We have five minutes to get to the Arts Centre or they won’t let us in once the play has started.’

‘Will you shut up about the stupid play?’

‘You’re the one that wanted to see it.’

‘Come here. Look at this,’ Gilly said.

He followed her into the tiny kitchen. ‘Doesn’t like washing up after herself.’

‘Everything’s exactly as it was last night. She hasn’t been here since yesterday morning.’

‘She works in Dublin, you say?’

‘Yes. And I’m going to ring her office tomorrow morning to find out what the hell is up.’

‘Do that. Now, can we leave?’

Before she followed him out, Gilly tried Mollie’s phone once more. It was dead.

‘This is not like Mollie at all.’

She was talking to fresh air.

---

Lottie left Katie arguing with Chloe over the ownership of a pair of jeans. Turning the key in the door of Rose’s house she said, ‘Mother, I brought you dinner.’

‘You’re stretching that description a little,’ Rose said. She was sitting on a chair by the stove. ‘Do you know what time it is?’

‘I do, and I’ve been busy.’

‘You’re always busy.’ Rose sniffed. ‘Hope it’s not that spicy stuff again.’

‘Mince and pasta, sorry. I’ve been helping Katie to pack.’

‘Why didn’t you ask me to help?’

‘You haven’t been well.’ Lottie put the plate on the table and removed the tea towel. The food looked pretty miserable. She knew criticism would follow. She began making tea.

‘I’m not dead. Yet.’ Rose shuffled over to the table. ‘I could have given my granddaughter a hand if any of you had bothered to ask. And when is she getting that child baptised? He’s still in a state of sin until that is done, and it’s dangerous to be flying off with sin on your soul.’

The last three and a half months had turned Rose from a raging matriarch into a bitter tyrant. At times, it felt like four years since she had confessed to a lifetime of lies.

Lottie made a cup of tea, battling to keep her temper under control and her tongue silent. No matter what she said, it wouldn’t be the right thing.

‘Put in three sugars. I think my levels are low.’

‘Too much sugar will keep you awake at night.’

‘That’s my problem, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it is.’ She put the mug on the table.

‘You should have used a teapot. It stews better that way. In my day, we didn’t have tea bags.’

‘Are you going to eat that or offer it up?’ Lottie stood with her back to the stove.

‘Hard to do it with an audience, even if it was edible.’ Rose put down her knife and fork and sipped the tea. ‘You only put in one sugar.’

‘That’s enough for you.’

Rose turned in her chair, facing Lottie. ‘Don’t tell me what’s enough for me in my own house. I live here, not you.’ She pushed the plate into the centre of the table and folded her arms.

Lottie placed her hands on the table and leaned down towards her mother. She could have sworn she heard something physically snap in her brain.

‘And I’m glad I don’t live here, because you know what? My life was a misery when I did, and I hope I never have to live here ever again.’

She picked up her jacket and ran from the house. Definitely the wrong thing to say. But now that it was said, she couldn’t take it back.