The Doll's House

‘I should remember it, though. Mum and Dad must have been traumatised. I can’t even remember the funeral. I thought I had, but then I realised it was Dad’s funeral, not hers. Gerard thinks the memory loss could be connected to trauma, maybe even Dad’s death.’


‘Clodagh, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.’ His words are angry.

‘But we never spoke about Emmaline. It was as if she was off limits.’

‘You’re being overdramatic.’

‘No, I’m not.’

His tone changes again, becoming patronising. ‘They say alcohol kills the brain cells.’

‘That’s a cheap shot. You’re starting to sound like bloody Martin.’ I can’t hide the upset in my voice.

‘Let’s get this over and done with,’ he says, walking up the stairs ahead of me.

Neither of us has mentioned Keith Jenkins or Uncle Jimmy since we arrived. I’m conscious that bringing up the subject of Emmaline has stressed him. I’d known it would. The same way I know he doesn’t want to talk about Keith Jenkins either.

On the landing, he walks over to the window, looking out onto the strand. He has his back to me.

‘Dominic, have you the key for the attic?’

‘What? Oh, yeah.’ He turns, reaching into his jeans pocket, taking out the small key, gesturing for me to take it.

‘Aren’t you coming up with me?’

‘This is your wild-goose chase, not mine.’

‘But don’t you get it, Dominic? Two men are dead, and we knew both of them.’

‘So?’

‘You’re unbelievable.’

‘We knew them a long time ago, that’s all. They’re part of history, and not a pretty one at that.’

‘Do you remember Mum being pregnant, Dominic?’

‘Sort of.’ He turns away again.

‘What do you mean “sort of”?’

‘What the fuck do you think I mean?’ He turns as if his body is hitting out, his face angry. The same anger lines that appear on Martin’s forehead when he reaches boiling point.

‘Were Mum and Dad happy about the pregnancy?’

‘How the hell should I know, Clodagh? I was a teenager. I had other things on my mind.’

‘It’s just …’

‘What?’

‘When I was hypnotised, I remembered something. It was about Mum being pregnant. Dad wanted to touch her, to feel the bump, but she pushed him away.’

‘That guy is messing with your head.’ The patronising tone is back.

But I keep on talking. ‘Then I put Dad in the attic of the doll’s house.’

‘Christ, Clodagh – listen to yourself!’

‘I know it doesn’t make sense.’

He says nothing.

‘Dominic, are you coming up or not?’

‘I’ll wait here.’ There’s something defeated about the way he says it.

‘Suit yourself, but I need to go through your old bedroom.’

‘It’s only a room, Clodagh. Soon this house,’ his eyes glancing around him, ‘won’t be part of either of us.’

I feel the warmth of the key in my hand, hot from him holding it. Once again I remember the heat on the back of my neck, that day on the strand with Mum, and the man I now know to have been Keith Jenkins lying beside her.





Ocean House, the Quays


Kate was pleased at how the session had gone with Imogen’s family. They had all gained a better understanding of Imogen’s memory loss and how it affected her. It gave Kate hope that good progress could be made. Imogen’s close family was the structure by which she could rise or fall.

She checked the time. There would be another squad meeting at Harcourt Street in five minutes at three o’clock. O’Connor would be under pressure. There were still too many questions about the canal murders that didn’t have answers, and he would soon be screaming for her report. Something had started to take hold in Kate’s mind, and it went back to what she had said to O’Connor about there being more pieces to this jigsaw than they could see.

In most investigations you nearly always start with the victim. When you know the victim, you know more about the person who killed them. The connection of Jenkins and Gahan brought a whole other dimension. Jenkins being in the public eye meant the field of suspects was vast, but the frame of reference had shifted from concentration on Jenkins to how he and Gahan were linked. There was seldom only one reason for a crime taking place. More often than not, it was a combination of factors. Kate had no doubt that both killings had been emotionally charged, but was it the primary or only motivation? Could other rewards play their part? Financial gain? Or something else?

She thought again about Imogen Willis, how relaxed the girl had looked leaving with her family. Kate’s own memory loss wasn’t as extreme as Imogen’s, but it often caused her to reflect.