Page 62 of The Altar Girls

‘Where did you go?’

‘Betty’s.’

‘Who?’

‘Betty Coyne. You mentioned her to me. I hadn’t seen her for ages, and I was sitting here doing nothing so I decided to visit her. Poor woman doesn’t know what day of the week it is. She had a stroke, you know.’

‘Yes, I know. And I did mention her, but I didn’t expect you to go driving around to see her. I was only thinking out loud.’ She hadn’t expected her mother to remember the conversation either.

‘Well, we had a great time. She gave me two balls of wool. Do you know where my knitting needles are, or did you hide them like you hid my car keys?’

All Lottie could do was smile. In these lucid moments it was like having the old, challenging Rose back, and she realised she’d missed her. She stood up and gave her a hug.

Rose said, ‘I know my mind isn’t what it used to be, but I honestly can’t remember the last time you hugged me.’

Lottie squeezed her shoulder, feeling heat flood her face. She wasn’t the hugging type, and neither was her mother. ‘Did you have tea at Betty’s?’

‘Yes, and cake. I had to buy it. She hadn’t anything nice, so I went to Tesco for her.’

‘You what?’

‘I don’t think I want that tea now. I’m tired. I’ll lie down for an hour.’

‘You need to put on your nightdress and get into bed, Mother. It’s nearly midnight.’

‘What? It couldn’t be that time.’

‘It is. Do you want me to help you?’

Rose threw her such a look that Lottie felt if she was a flower she’d wither up and die on the spot.

‘I’m perfectly capable of undressing myself, missy.’ With a huff she marched out.

After ten minutes, Lottie was able to move. She stood at Rose’s bedroom door and watched her mother lying there.

‘I know you’re watching me, Lottie Fitzpatrick.’

‘Parker,’ she corrected.

‘What are you talking about? Where’s your brother? Is he in?’

‘Eddie?’

‘Who else?’

Lottie didn’t know whether to be angry or sad. She couldn’t tell Rose that Eddie had died a long time ago.

‘What did Betty have to say about the murders?’

‘What murders?’

‘It’s okay, go to sleep.’ She eased out of the room and shut the door as her mother slipped into sleep.

She leaned against it for a long time before moving to her childhood room. She desperately wanted to talk to Boyd, but he’d be asleep, so she undressed, slipped under the covers and hoped she could nod off quickly.

Some hope.

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