41

Helena

The wind whipped Helena’s hair around her face and the waves rolled, licked and foamed far beneath her, sending up shoots of icy sea-spray to where she walked along the clifftop. Gulls and terns swooped and dived and cawed. She could see the craggy mass of Inis Mór in the far distance. She had always loved it up here. When she was a child, she and her dad would come for walks and he’d stop and stare out over the vast Atlantic and say, ‘Next stop America.’ It never failed to take her breath away. You had to be careful, picking your steps; she knew where the blowholes were and where it was safe to walk, but it was a place you could be alone with your thoughts – you could shout and roar and scream onto the wind in anger or frustration and nobody would hear you. You weren’t just at the very edge of Ireland or even Europe, up here, she felt as though she was at the very edge of the world. The sun was starting to set, and she knew she should get a move on if she wanted to be home before nightfall when the path would grow treacherous.

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She fished it out and saw it was James calling her again. Her heart fell. She returned it to her pocket. She didn’t have the energy to rehash the same conversation again. After a moment, her phone beeped with a text message. She took it out once more and read what he had sent:

It’s Milly – please call me.

What was that supposed to mean? she wondered. Was he using Milly as a ploy to get her to answer the phone to him? Was it something to do with the case or something else entirely? She prayed James hadn’t done anything stupid… But no… he wouldn’t… would he? Crazy thoughts crashed around inside her head. She knew she would be tormented with worries if she didn’t find out what was going on and so, with fumbling hands, she hit the call button as curiosity got the better of her.

‘Helena – thank God.’ She heard the panic in his voice as he answered on the first ring.

‘What’s going on, James? Where are you?’

‘I’m in a taxi with Callum and Jack on my way to the hospital.’

‘Callum and Jack?’ she repeated in disbelief. Had she heard him right? ‘Why?’

‘It’s Milly, she fell in the playground and hurt her head,’ he said quickly. ‘She’s gone in an ambulance with Aidan, I’m taking the boys there now.’ There was a crack in his voice.

She felt the hairs on her arms stand to attention. This didn’t sound good. ‘Is she okay?’ Helena asked, knowing it was a stupid question. It was serious if Milly was being taken by ambulance, but she needed reassurance that the child would be all right. ‘Was she conscious?’

‘Please, Helena, just get here,’ he said desperately and then he was gone.

She turned around and was facing straight into the headwind. It howled and swirled and sucked the breath from her lungs. The last sliver of sunlight was left on the horizon. Her head was full of chaos: what had happened to Milly? Why had James been in the playground? And why was he the one taking Callum and Jack to the hospital? After everything that had happened, he was probably the last person Aidan would trust his children with. Nothing made any sense.

Helena’s head was spinning as she made her way down the cliff path, picking her steps through the marram grass as carefully as she could, but still moving quickly in her desperate need to get back to her parents’ cottage. Sea mist was starting to descend like a blanket and the village lights were fuzzy yellow in the distance. Fear chilled its way through her. She couldn’t bear it if something happened to Milly. How must Aidan be feeling to go through this worry again so soon after the crash? And James too. Milly was his own flesh and blood. She was a part of him; he must be terrified.

‘I have to go back to Dublin,’ she announced breathlessly as she rounded the kitchen door back in Ceol na Mara.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ her mother jumped up from the table in panic where she had been sitting with a cup of tea. Her father was probably out doing the cattle. ‘Is James okay?’

How on earth could she explain this to her mother? How could she possibly begin to explain who this child was that had torn her and her husband apart? This child that was precocious and fun-loving and so wonderful in every way. Her eyes were drawn to the red glow of the Sacred Heart lamp which hung on the wall above the range. How many of her prayers had gone unanswered over the last few years? How much time had she wasted bargaining with a God that she wasn’t really sure she believed in? If he could just give her a baby, she would do anything, anything at all that he wanted. And even though it felt futile, she found herself doing it again – Please hold on, little one, she prayed. She would do anything if he would just spare Milly.

‘I’m sorry, Mam, I have to go,’ she said, grabbing her keys and bag from the countertop and running out the door.