‘I heard she loved to make snow angels. Did you do it too?’
A small shake of her head. Progress.
‘I’d love to make a snow angel. Would you like to make one tomorrow?’
A slight nod.
‘I’ll ask your mammy about it.’
Her eyes widened and the thumb-sucking intensity increased.
‘Oh, will your mammy not let you out on the snow?’
No reaction.
‘Do you think she would let you if I asked?’
‘If you asked me what?’
He hadn’t heard the door open or Zara coming in. She lifted Harper and sat stiffly with the child on the edge of her knees. ‘You’re making yourself at home, I see.’
‘I found Paw Patrol for her. Thought it might cheer her up a little. You know, the bright colours and—’
‘Her sister is dead and you think bright colours will cheer her up? Give me that remote.’ She held out her hand like a sergeant major might do.
He stood and passed it over meekly.
‘I think you should leave.’ She snapped off the television. ‘I don’t want a stranger in my house.’
Garda Lei stared at her. She hadn’t thought that earlier. She’d seemed glad to have someone to sit with her daughter while she escaped for her sanity.
‘I’ve been assigned to stay here with you until I’m relieved. And that’s what I have to do.’
‘You don’t have to be in the same room as us. The kitchen is empty. You can sit out there.’
‘Okay. Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?’
‘No thanks. I don’t drink anything with caffeine. If you knew what it did to your arteries, you wouldn’t either. Now leave us in peace.’ She placed Harper on the couch and began tidying up the meagre toys from the floor, tutting loudly.
He felt like mussing the child’s hair to show he understood her, but he kept his hand in his pocket and left the mother and daughter to the silence of the room.
68
Martina went home and changed out of her uniform, off duty at last. She had a quick shower, blow-dried her hair, letting it hang loose around her shoulders, and slapped on some make-up.
She was totally bereft after the fiasco at the Kiernan house. At least Bethany was home safe with her father and baby brother. Isaac had all but hunted her out of the house. She didn’t blame him. She had fucked up.
And she was worried about Alfie. The boy had seemed genuine when he’d asked to help Isaac. She hadn’t seen him as a threat. She still didn’t. Hopefully he was okay and was just hiding out behind a bike shed somewhere afraid to go home.
Marching around her apartment, she felt the walls sucking her in. She needed to get out. A drink to unwind. A shoulder to cry on.
‘God, I’m pathetic,’ she chastised herself.
She fetched her jacket and locked the door behind her. She could hit Danny’s for a cold glass of white but knew in her heart that it wouldn’t console her. Yet she found herself in town without realising she’d actually walked there. She couldn’t bring herself to drink alone. Maybe McKeown was around. She rang his number. It went unanswered.
Strolling along Main Street, she eyed the brightly lit windows without feeling the Christmas spirit. She hadn’t even bought one gift yet.
Then she was outside the station. Inside. The reception area. Upstairs. In the office.