Fingers, rough and probing, pulled her eyelids upwards. A sharp scream escaped from her throat before he clamped his other hand over her mouth again.
‘Pretty mouth,’ he whispered, bringing his face down to hers. ‘I have to leave you alone for a while. Don’t try to escape like the last bitch. She’s dead and buried now, and you don’t want that, do you?’
She whimpered and nodded, despite herself.
‘When you learn to live by my rules, I will reward you. Little by little.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You need food and water, don’t you?’
‘I’m not going to be here long enough for that,’ she spat.
‘Let’s see how long it takes for that fight to desert you. And when it does, I guarantee you’ll beg for the things you’ve taken for granted all your life.’
‘You know nothing about my life.’
‘True. But now that I have you here, I’ve plenty of time to find out, and you will tell me what I want to know.’
‘Where are you going?’ She tried to lean up on her elbow but flopped back down. She watched as he moved to the iron ladder leading to the opening in the ceiling. Taking the torch with him. ‘No! ‘Don’t leave me here in the dark. Please.’
‘Begging already. See, I told you so. You had no one in your life, but now you have me.’
‘You’re wrong there. I’m supposed to be meeting a friend. She’s in the guards. And the girl I met on the train, she has a brother. They’ll come looking for me.’
As soon as she’d blurted out the words, Mollie knew she had made a mistake, but she wasn’t sure what it was. His eyes darkened and his face took on a ghoulish glow in the semi-darkness.
‘You are alone now,’ he said flatly.
She watched as he climbed the ladder and hauled himself through the hatch. When the small square door banged shut, she was plunged into darkness.
The night wrapped itself around her cold shoulders, and she cried and cried until her throat was so raw she could hardly breathe.
* * *
When he had everything secure, he made his way to his car and sat there thinking. He should have been more careful. He didn’t know she had a friend in the guards. Damn. He crashed his fist against the steering wheel. He’d have to find out who that might be and make sure nothing pointed in his direction. But there was nothing. He had never come in contact with the girl before, other than giving her one lift and seeing her on the train.
The train!
Who was that gap-toothed girl? What difference did it make if she had a brother or not? What was the significance of that? He was missing something. There was definitely something that Mollie was omitting. He’d have to find out. All this was diverting his attention from getting the answer he needed. If only that bitch hadn’t escaped the other night, none of this would be happening now. It was all her fault.
He hadn’t even had the time to have fun with her. But this one, yes, he would savour the pleasure of taking her down. He felt the hardness pulse between his legs. She would be just the medicine he needed. And she would give him the answers.
He switched on the ignition and began the drive home.
Slowly. Very slowly.
Twenty-Seven
Cillian crept into the semi-darkness of the room. The street light cast enough illumination to allow him to undress, fold his clothes and slip naked into bed. Keelan stirred in her sleep. He lay on his back. Stared at the dark ceiling. And he thought of the other woman in his life.
He missed her so much. It was as if someone had taken a bone from his leg and he was forever condemned to walk around in pain, limping on one side. But it’s only a bone, people would say, you can still function. Yeah, so what do you know about it?
Keelan rolled over and he knew she was looking at him.
‘What did you say?’ she asked.
‘Nothing. Go back to sleep.’
‘You thinking about Lynn?’
‘Go to sleep.’
‘Did you go to the pub after the meeting?’
‘Yes. With Finn.’
He felt her fingers then, lightly feathering the soft hair on his taut belly. Searching lower. And he couldn’t help his response. Physically he was ready. But his mind was back there. Back at that time when the darkness descended and his world changed forever.
He felt her shift beneath him.
‘Slow down,’ she said. ‘You’re hurting me.’
But he couldn’t slow down. His skin slid over hers, up and down, until a soft sheen of sweat built up, oiling their bodies. Maybe tonight he could banish his demons. Shut them away in the closet and lose the key. Separate his world into two distinct parts. For a while, at least.
As he grunted, teeth gritted, eyes open, he caught sight of the pile of neatly folded clothes on the chair under the window. Everything had to be in its rightful place, like a china dinner service presented as a wedding present. Too good to use, too delicate. Left at the back of the cupboard, only taken out for important people. Like the visit of a priest or the guards …
The thought frustrated his frenzy.
‘You stopped at just the wrong time,’ she said. ‘What’s up?’
‘Not a lot, by the looks of things.’ He lay back on the mattress, sweating, unable to perform his sexual duties.
He was angry.
She was angry.
It wasn’t her fault. But he hit her anyway.
* * *
‘What time of night do you call this?’
Finn shoved past his wife, the talking clock, and made his way down the short, narrow hallway and into the tiny spare room. She followed him.
‘What’s up with you, baby?’
‘Don’t you “baby” me,’ he said. He lay fully clothed on the single bed and closed his eyes. He still had his coat on. The room was freezing. The whole damn apartment was like an igloo. He wrapped his arms around his body. ‘Turn off the light.’ If he stretched out his hand, he could switch it off himself. The room was that small.
‘Ah, come on. Don’t be like that,’ she whined and sat on the side of the bed. He rolled away and faced the wall, studying the fungus of damp beneath the windowsill. He didn’t need this shit. Still she rattled on. ‘I miss you when you’re not here. It’s so cold, I could do with a bit of body warmth. Know what I mean?’
‘Fuck off,’ he growled.
‘There’s no need for that kind of language.’
‘Jesus, you sound just like my mother.’
‘Your mother is dead.’
‘And I wish you were too. Now turn off the damn light and leave me alone.’
He couldn’t talk to her when she was in this mood. When he was in this mood. When life was being a complete bitch to him, why did she have to be likewise?
No longer sensing his wife’s presence, he sat up and pulled off his boots and clothes. Then he tugged on a T-shirt and jogging pants and slipped under the duvet. He wondered how he was going to get out of the mess he’d made of his life. They had no money, and were still renting this piss-poor two-bed apartment.
At least you have your job, Sara would say. His job. Yeah, right. Working as a clerical officer in the public service, paid just above the minimum wage. No savings, and eighty euros a week train fares.
Why couldn’t she get a job? No use wandering down that lane, because he knew why. He didn’t want to think about Sara’s drinking habits now. Things were bad enough. He was thirty-four, for Christ’s sake. Wasn’t life supposed to be better at his age? He should never have married her, and now he was living with that mistake every single hour of his life.
Twenty-Eight
Bridie McWard sat up in bed and stared over at her son in his cot. She kept the light on, and Spotify was churning out easy music on her iPhone. Still no sign of Paddy. Every night it was the same. Out until all hours. She hardly saw him any more.
She pulled the sheet up to her chin and folded her legs beneath her. She was too scared to lie down. Too frightened to close her eyes.
The key rattled in the lock and the front door opened. She held her breath, body frozen; her blood seemed to stop flowing. The door to the bedroom was pushed open and she looked up into the sorrowful eyes of her husband.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and sat on the bed to drag off his boots.