‘You’re welcome. Congratulations. How’s the baby doing?’ She puts the packet back on the shelf.
‘He’s great, really good: sleeps, eats, does what babies do.’ I think about his continuous crying for hours this morning but I’m not going to rat him out on his first tantrum.
‘That’s great and you look wonderful yourself.’ Ciara casts her eye up and down my body as if inspecting it.
‘Oh, bit of a way to go.’ I say, holding my belly.
‘No, you look great.’
I’m mindful that I’m looking for information. The compliments are very welcome but they’re not getting me anywhere. In the distance I see the older lady who lives in the house further down the road from us. She doesn’t see me.
‘I just saw two detectives going into the coffee shop, have you heard anything yet?’ I hear my words and realise I did that with the grace of a rhino. I need to be more discreet, slip it into the conversation or I’ll just sound nosy. Thankfully Ciara is nosy too. She shuffles closer to me.
‘Not much, they haven’t got a suspect yet, but I did hear there was blood everywhere. No sign of sexual assault, thank God.’ Ciara blesses herself when she mentions God. ‘And nothing was taken from the pub. Detective Ryan said she was lying there for hours before she was found, poor thing.’
I’m listening intently, my mouth half open, when Ciara looks at her watch. ‘Got to go, the mother-in-law,’ she says, flashing her eyes upwards before moving on towards the checkout. I continue down the aisle. When I get to the butcher’s counter, I decide to buy some sausages and rashers. Maggie will go on about the fat content, but I think I deserve a treat. Behind the rows of meat, Mick the butcher stands with his hands resting on the counter.
‘Can’t make your mind up, hah? Don’t know whether ye want the cow or the pig, hah?’
I smile back at him. ‘I’ll take the pig.’
‘What’ll it be, so?’
* * *
When I have everything in the bag, I leave the shop. I stand outside for a minute and look up the street at the setting. A row of small businesses, each with their own unique fronting, line each side of the road. How could someone have committed such a terrible crime here? And why? If there was no sign of sexual assault and nothing was taken, it wasn’t a burglary. Someone must have been trying to shut her up. But why? What did Vicky Murphy know?
In the city, murders happen so often people are used to them. They’re shocked for a minute before turning on Netflix. But it’s different here. Everyone knew Vicky, she was one of their own. It’s like the village itself was targeted. The death of Vicky will be remembered here for years to come. She was well liked. Other than that, and the fact that she was a barmaid, I don’t know much more about her.
Happy to have some news for Amanda, I stroll back to the car. Amanda’s reaction had puzzled me a bit. I didn’t expect her to be so concerned, so adamant I pursue the culprit behind Conor’s back. I hope she doesn’t think Conor is the murderer. Or that I’m in danger. Whichever it is, I’m glad to have her by my side.
I pass by Georgina’s Hair Salon. I’ve never actually had my hair done here before. Up until a few weeks before Shay arrived, I had made the trip to Dublin to The Hair Shop in the arcade where I always got my hair done. I’ll have to stop that. I need to start trusting and supporting the locals more if I want to fit in. I could buy the odd piece to wear in Harriet’s Closet. Allow Bernie the beautician to remove my excess hair. But first, I’ll make an appointment in Georgina’s. Something I can easily undo if needs be.
Pushing on the gleaming pink handle, I enter the premises. A woman in her fifties beckons me over to where she is sitting behind a large glass table. It’s pretty chic in here. The spotless mirror on the wall opposite tells me I’m doing the right thing. My hair is a mess.
‘Laura, isn’t it?’
‘Yes… yes…’ I’m a bit taken aback that she knows who I am but I had probably been pointed out to everyone and anyone when I first arrived. There she is… his new girlfriend… her name is Laura.