Page 136 of The Altar Girls

Zara bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. ‘Could be. I’ve never seen it, anyhow.’

Lottie put the phone away. ‘You told me you remembered Maurice Connolly from your mother’s funeral. He denies knowing you. Why would that be?’

‘That man would deny his own mother. I thought he was nice until all that hoo-ha about my mother’s coffin. He’s a weasel.’

Lottie wouldn’t have used that description for him. Maurice was tall and broad-shouldered. However, she could imagine him as a sly individual. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘He only wanted money from me. I wanted the wicker coffin for environmental reasons, but in truth the main reason was monetary. It was the cheapest. I won in the end.’ Zara looked at Lottie, her eyes wide. ‘Do you think he’s the bastard who took Willow away from me?’

‘I’m only teasing out a few things with you,’ Lottie said, and kicked herself for mentioning the undertaker. ‘We don’t have any evidence that Mr Connolly was involved.’

Zara jumped up and marched around the kitchen. ‘There must be something to prove he did it.’ She swung round. ‘Did you find their clothes and school bags? He might have them. Look for them.’

Now Lottie could see why Lynch had said that Zara’s mood went from high to low and back again. The woman in front of her had morphed from angry to morose to animated and excited.

A screeching cry from the other room made Zara cease her march. She shouted, ‘Harper! For God’s sake, I’m busy.’

‘It’s okay. Garda Lei is with her.’

‘I don’t want him near her.’ The anger had returned.

‘Let me check on them.’

‘I can mind my own child, thank you very much.’

Her head swimming with all the contradictions the woman presented, Lottie followed her and stood at the door as Zara stormed in and picked up her hysterical child.

‘What did he do to you?’

‘I didn’t do anything,’ Lei said helplessly. ‘I’m sorry. She got upset for no reason. We were just watching cartoons on the telly and she—’

‘Get out. I want both of you to leave my house.’

‘Garda Lei said he didn’t do anything,’ Lottie said, watching the mother and child carefully. Harper was crying and wriggling to free herself. Her bare arms were turning pink from the pressure of Zara’s fingers. ‘I think you’re hurting her.’

‘I am not.’ Zara looked down and immediately relaxed her grip on the little girl. Her tone softened. ‘Please, just leave me alone. I need space.’

‘I can stay if you’d like to go to your studio,’ Garda Lei said. ‘You said it helps you relax.’

‘Just leave.’

Outside, Lottie inhaled the cold air as snowflakes fluttered from the sky to land on her nose.

‘What was on the television that frightened the child?’

‘Nothing scary, I swear. Only a cartoon thing. I honestly don’t know what sparked the outburst. I heard her mother’s voice raised in the kitchen. It might have been that.’

‘Harper didn’t speak to you at all?’

‘No, but as you heard, there’s nothing wrong with her lungs.’

Lottie considered that along with her conversation with Zara, but she couldn’t reach any conclusion.

‘Come on. St Patrick’s isn’t far from here. We’ll swing round that way. I’ve a priest to find.’

84

The wind picked up and howled in off the sea as they made their way down through the caravan park. The dawn light had given way to a watery morning, and Boyd felt weariness seep through his bones. He had to find his son. He would find his son – he pushed positivity into his thoughts. And when he did, he’d have to tell the boy his mother was dead. Sergio loved his mama, who’d raised him on her own for the first eight years of his life. That conversation was going to be one of his hardest.

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