picture. I scurry past the door over to the second window and see an empty bed. Where could he be? The bed is small with a sheet and a couple of blankets on top. Above the bed hangs a cross. The wardrobe, if you could call it that, is a small bockety press with clothes spilling out of it. I think of all I have, just a short stroll away, and I feel guilty. This isn’t right. Pat should have a few nice things. When all this is over and if it turns out Pat has nothing to do with it, I’m going to fix his house up for him. Get him some comforts.
The only other place he could be, if he is in the house, is the bathroom, which I can’t see from here. I’m not going around the back of the house because the terrain looks pretty rough, with unkempt shrubs, overgrown and tangled. I knock once more on the door, but again, no answer. Time to get back to my little boy.
Chapter Forty-Two
Georgina is holding court with a grey-haired lady when I walk into the salon. She puts her finger up to quieten the lady and says, ‘Speak of the devil, hello Laura.’ Returning her attention to the lady, she says, ‘This is her now, I’ll introduce you.’
Walking over to where they’re standing, I put my hand out.
‘Eilish Ryan,’ Georgina says, indicating the lady before pointing to me, ‘Laura Caldwell.’
Eilish nods and is about to speak when she’s interrupted by Georgina.
‘Can you believe it, Eilish is actually going to the christening tomorrow and she’s never even been introduced to you.’
‘Yes, I—’ begins Eilish.
‘She’s seen you around, but has never spoken to you.’
If Georgina doesn’t give her a chance she’s not going to be able to speak to me now either. So, I take my attention off Georgina and shake Eilish’s hand. ‘Don’t worry about that, Eilish, you won’t be the only one I don’t know at the party tomorrow, but you’re very welcome and I hope you enjoy yourself.’
The salon is full; every basin, every station full of women getting their hair done for the big christening. I understand now why Georgina is so nice to me; she’s making a fortune.
When I finally get to the basin, Georgina herself decides to wash my hair, guiding my head gently into the sink.
‘That was Fintan Ryan’s wife. The local sergeant,’ she says. ‘Eilish Ryan… lovely woman… two sons, both up in Dublin, neither joined the guards… which disappointed Fintan.’
My head is hovering over the sink now, the water gushing through my hair, providing the backing track to the local gossip.
‘The eldest fella is a bit strange but the younger fella is a lovely chap.’
I’d hoped to come here for a break. To clear my mind of all this unsavoury business with cards and Vicky Murphy. Conor had said he hadn’t a clue why she had sent that text. She had never contacted him before outside of the pub. She wasn’t even a name in his phone contacts. Vicky must have known she was in danger and hoped Conor could help her. But that’s not how the detectives will see it. Vicky is dead. Conor is the last person she contacted. My stomach continues to twist.
When Georgina finishes filling me in on the history of the Ryan brothers, she wraps a towel around my head and brings me over to a basin.
‘She wasn’t well you know… Eilish,’ she says in a low voice, leaning in to my ear to whisper: ‘her nerves were very bad.’
A drop of water rolls down my face as I nod at the mirror, pretending I’m interested.
‘In and out of the hospital for years.’ Georgina pulls away from whispering and says, ‘If it wasn’t for Caldwell Brewery. Well. God only knows.’
Now I am interested.
‘They were so good,’ she says, bending back into the whisper again: ‘By all accounts they paid for everything.’
I watch myself thinking in the mirror. So, Detective Fintan Ryan owes Conor big time. Is that why he told Conor about what Pat had said to the detectives from Dublin? Has Conor got Fintan Ryan in his pocket? And if so, what else is Fintan willing to do to cover for Conor?
The longer I’m in the salon, the more women arrive, all thanking me for their invitations. I nod and smile because I don’t know who they are, and I wasn’t the one who