Page 26 of Final Betrayal

‘Toast? I want a bowl of porridge. Make it with milk. Don’t like that stuff you pour water on top of.’

He knew they had no milk. He boiled the kettle. Tipped a tub of ready-made porridge into a bowl. She’d never know the difference, he thought. Even if she did, he didn’t care.

As the kettle settled into a slow whine, he stared out at his shed, and wondered again why Tony had needed to invade his workspace.

Chloe Parker hated going to school, even though it was her final year. She would much rather continue working at the pub. She’d enjoyed her summer job at Fallon’s, but because she had a dictator for a mother, she’d had to give it up to don her hideous school uniform and head back through the gates of hell. She was so looking forward to the mid-term break.

She kicked an empty Coke can ahead of her, grumbling beneath her breath.

‘What did you say?’ Sean switched his heavy rucksack of school books from one shoulder to the other.

Chloe looked at her brother. He was a good head taller than her, and his blonde hair and blue eyes broke her heart every time she looked at him. He was the image of their dead dad.

‘I was just thinking that Katie has all the luck,’ she said.

‘I don’t think that’s fair,’ Sean said.

‘Why not, dope?’ She connected with the can once again and sent it skidding from the footpath out onto the road under a car.

‘Well, for one, her boyfriend was murdered. For two, he left her pregnant. Three, she had to give up college to care for Louis, and now he’s getting to be a handful.’

Chloe had to agree that Louis was a bundle of beautiful trouble, but she wasn’t giving in that easily. ‘Remember what Granny always says. “Every cloud has a silver lining.”’

‘I don’t follow you.’ Sean sighed and yawned.

Chloe felt anger growing in her chest. He wasn’t even listening to her. No one listened to her any more. Properly listened, like.

‘Katie uses Louis as her excuse for everything. Twisting every situation to suit herself. She has Mam and Gran fawning over her with sympathy.’

‘You’re just jealous.’ Sean swallowed a snort.

‘Feck off, Sean Parker.’ Chloe kicked up wet leaves and walked on ahead of him.

He said, ‘You have to make a drama out of everything.’

As they reached Chloe’s school gates, Sean went to carry on towards his own. Grabbing his arm, pulling him to a halt, she said, ‘Wait a minute.’

He stopped, looking nervously around at the swarms of girls strolling through the gates.

Chloe said, ‘She gets to skive off college.’

‘Who?’

‘Katie, you moron.’ Chloe rolled her eyes. Shit, her PMS was brutal this month. She didn’t want to start bawling in front of her brother. He was two years younger than her and probably the most sensible of them all, when he wasn’t depressed. They really were an odd family.

‘Look, Chloe, I think she really wants to go back to college. It’s just that with Mam working and Gran getting on, she has no one to take care of Louis. Think of it from Katie’s point of view. She’s twenty-one years old and stuck at home with a baby.’

‘That’s just because she doesn’t push herself outside of her comfort zone. She could get Louis’ grandad to pay for childcare. He’s rolling in dollars. No, she’s a lazy bitch.’

Sean took a step back. ‘You are jealous. You need to wake up. And I need to get to school. See you later.’

Standing at the corner of the lane that led up by the canal, a shortcut to Sean’s school, Chloe blew out a breath of frustration. As she turned to enter the school gates, she felt uneasy. It was as if someone was breathing down her neck, causing the tiny hairs to stand to attention.

She swirled around on her heel, scanning over the heads of the girls rushing to make it inside before the bell, staring after Sean’s loping figure disappearing into the distance. Then, shaking her shoulders, she slipped her rucksack of school books down to her hand and, biting the inside of her lip, walked slowly through the gates. She was late, but she didn’t care about that.

For the rest of the day, she couldn’t shake off the feeling. And by the time school was over, she had her skin scratched red raw.

At the reception desk in Ragmullin garda station, Garda Tom Thornton flicked through last night’s call-out list. He was old enough to remember a time on the force when you could read the local newspaper, eat a sandwich, drink a mug of coffee and even smoke a cigarette at your desk.

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