Page 13 of The Altar Girls

‘Like the bloody airport,’ she muttered, slamming the car door.

She walked round the side of the house, bracing herself for whatever awaited her behind the back door.

Surprised at the silence, she walked through the kitchen to the front hallway.

Chloe sat on the floor outside her grandmother’s bedroom. She put a finger to her lips as she rose. ‘Shh, I think she’s asleep. At last.’

Lottie followed her back into the kitchen. It was tidy, though she thought she saw chips of china caught in the floor tiles.

‘What happened?’

‘Want a cup of tea?’ Chloe busied herself with the kettle.

‘Sit down and tell me.’

Chloe untwisted the topknot in her hair and twirled long tendrils around her fingers as she sat.

‘She’s getting worse, Mam. Half the time she doesn’t recognise this house as her own home, and she’s lived here all her life, hasn’t she?’

‘She moved here when she married your grandad.’

‘Well, she keeps talking about going home. That she never wanted to move. And she doesn’t know whose clothes are in the wardrobe, because they’re certainly not hers. She doesn’t like the new cups that she didn’t buy, and she even broke one tonight. It’s constant, and I missed my shift in the pub this evening. I couldn’t leave her alone. It’s too much for me, Mam. I need my life back. I want to live at home. Agreed?’

Lottie had no idea what to say or do. She dropped her eyes, spying the bulging overnight bag inside the back door. Her daughter was serious. She had agreed to come live with her gran as a short-term measure. At that time, Rose’s dementia was in the early stages. Now it seemed to have gained momentum. Or was Chloe being dramatic, as usual?

‘Mam! What are you going to do?’

Lottie realised she hadn’t answered her. ‘In the long term, I have no idea. But for tonight, go on home. I’ll stay here.’

‘Really? Thanks, Mam.’ Chloe stood, tugged on her jacket and grabbed the heavy holdall. ‘You’ll have to go to work tomorrow. What will you do then?’

‘I’ll figure something out.’

Chloe appeared to be faltering. She dropped the bag. ‘Aren’t you working to find that missing little girl? You must be up to ninety. Listen, I’m sorry for all the panic. I’ll stay.’

‘Go on home, Chloe. It’ll be grand.’

She could see the dark rings circling her daughter’s blue eyes, her father’s eyes. What would Adam do in this situation? No, stop, Lottie. Adam was dead six years. She was on her own with this situation and it was up to her to sort out the proper care for her mother, no matter what that entailed.

‘Okay,’ Chloe said gratefully. ‘If you’re sure?’

‘Leave before I change my mind.’

‘Thanks, Mam.’ The girl tied her hair up again and planted a rare kiss on Lottie’s cheek. ‘I can’t wait to get home to my own bed. Bye.’

Lottie hadn’t the heart to tell Chloe that her little nephew had recently taken a shine to her bed. She visualised the row between Katie, her elder daughter and mother to three-year-old Louis, and her spitfire middle child.

Sitting in the silence of her mother’s kitchen, she wondered if a day would ever arrive when her life would be calm.

‘One day is all I ask,’ she whispered to the shadows on the walls. ‘Please God, one day.’

* * *

Kirby let himself into his silent house. The air smelled of Amy’s perfume and immediately he felt lonely. Maybe he could drive up to the hospital and sit with her for the night? No, he had to be in work at cockcrow, even though he’d worked the longest shift in months. Big investigations meant little sleep.

He grabbed a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, having first talked himself out of pouring a glass of whiskey. That could be disastrous.

As he sat in an armchair, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and tapped the call icon with a smile.

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