Michelle had waited until she knew everything was okay before she left the room. She thought Caitlin had been about to get angry again when she’d said that Johnny Davis had killed her mother, but she hadn’t. It didn’t make sense. In Caitlin’s shoes, she’d have lost it. If anyone had done anything to hurt her mother, she’d have made sure they paid the price, no matter what the circumstances.
After getting up and slipping from the room as discreetly as she could, she had gone out to the utility room, taken Rowdy’s lead, clipped it on and slipped out the back door with the dog gambolling round her feet. She expected it would be some time before Caitlin and Nick finished talking.
The temperature had dropped, and she zipped her fleece up to the neck. Instinctively, she thought of the people sleeping in the street that night. Then she thought of the volunteers doing the rounds. She hadn’t heard anything back from the workers in the Capuchin Centre. Clearly no one had any information to add about the man who looked like Caitlin’s husband.
She walked on, trying to still her thoughts, to slow them down and think clearly about everything that had happened since Nick told her about his illness. He hadn’t been feeling well for a while, she knew that. She used to hear him get up in the middle of the night – was sure she’d heard him vomit in the toilet, but he never said anything. She’d gone and stood outside the bathroom door one night and asked if he was okay. He’d assured her that he was fine, but he didn’t look fine. He’d used mouthwash to disguise the fact that he’d been sick, which had only made it more obvious.
When she reached the end of the street she turned left to round the block. The house was in sight again now, the light burning in the front window. She wondered if Caitlin was still there or if she’d left by now – what would she have told Nick about his past? As she drew nearer, she noticed a white van parked on the other side of the road. It was dark, but she could make out the outline of a man sitting in the driver’s seat. He wasn’t parked outside one house in particular, but along the kerb where a small green square separated two blocks of houses.
Michelle quickened her step, but Rowdy stopped to smell at something in the grass, forcing her to a halt. She glanced at the van again; she could still make nothing out but a silhouette in the darkness. She pulled Rowdy’s lead, clucking her tongue to call him to her. She wasn’t usually nervous walking at night, particularly in the estate, but tonight she felt jumpy. She stooped and unclipped the lead from the dog’s collar and watched as he raced ahead and in through the garden gate. She walked round to the side entrance, where she might slip again, unseen, into the house.
She eased open the back door. Rowdy ran straight for his water bowl, and she tiptoed out to the hall. There were voices in the front room, Caitlin hadn’t left yet. Not wanting to interrupt, she climbed the stairs, went into the bedroom and crossed to the window to pull the blind down. The white van was still parked across the street. She couldn’t say why, but something about it made her uneasy. She sat on the edge of the bed, turned on the light and picked up a book. She read distractedly, her mind on what was happening downstairs.
A short time later she heard the living room door opening, and she put her book down and made her way into the landing. She heard Nick call her name.
‘Up here,’ she said, making her way downstairs.
‘I’m just going to run Caitlin home,’ he told her.
‘I’ll be back soon okay?’ Nick took his keys, kissed Michelle’s cheek and the two of them left.
She sat on the sofa, which was still warm from Nick’s body, and turned the television on in time for the news. It would take him at least half an hour to drop Caitlin home and return. A reporter was standing on the shore of a lake. She turned up the volume and realized he was talking about a French tourist whose remains had been found the month before. Apparently, the shattered pieces of a small boat had surfaced. A woman whose house overlooked the lake had come forward to say that she’d seen a couple out in the boat, and now the Garda were preparing a diving team to see if they could locate a second body. Michelle changed the channel. She’d had enough scares, all she wanted now was to watch something mindless – at least until Nick came back.
About half an hour later, she heard Nick’s key in the door. He looked exhausted when he came in. He flopped down on the sofa next to her and put his hand on her leg. ‘I can’t believe I told her,’ he said. ‘But I had no choice. She came over ready to attack us over that Twitter thing …’
‘It went okay though. She believed it at least.’
He nodded. ‘Just as well I was able to tell her the things I could. I don’t know how I did … that thing about the bike for her fifth birthday, I didn’t see that in the sessions, I just knew.’
‘What do you think is going on with that Twitter account?’
‘I’m not sure. She thinks someone’s set it up to freak her out, but she doesn’t know why. She showed me the profile, and she was right about the pictures that had been posted, they were definitely taken in the wine bar. Jesus, when she asked to check my phone, I figured no matter what I told her, she wouldn’t believe me. I had visions of her going to the guards and telling them I was some weirdo who was stalking her. I do have my own theory on it though …’
‘Oh?’
‘Her friend, Andy Quinn. I reckon he’s the one behind it, not in a malicious way, though it is a pretty sick way of going about things. I told you the first time I saw them, he seemed really possessive of her … I reckon he thinks it’s been a year since David disappeared, a decent period before moving in on her. Only she doesn’t seem interested. She’s been pushing him away. But he knows that if she’s scared, he’s the one she’ll turn to.’
‘And what about that girl, Louise? Did you talk to her?’
Nick nodded. ‘I went around to the school and caught her as she was leaving for the day.’
‘And what did she say?’
‘At first she denied that anything had gone on between them. She was bristly though and I figured she was hiding something, so I took a risk. I told her that we knew they’d been having an affair, that we’d read the text messages between them. She still said nothing had happened, that it had just been a flirtation, a bit of banter.’
‘Do you believe her?’
‘It’s possible. The thing is, there was a boyfriend. She broke up with him just after David disappeared. She said she couldn’t take the pressure anymore and that the relationship had fizzled out, probably because of David. I’d say there’s no doubt she and David would have crossed the line if he hadn’t vanished.’
Michelle’s mind was working fast. Caitlin’s husband had been on the cusp of an affair. Was there any way she could have found out? She didn’t seem the type of wife who would turn a blind eye, and if she had found out, what would she have done? Confronted him?
‘Lots of people who’ve been dumped without reason will go to great lengths to find out why it happened. I’m thinking there’s every possibility that this ex asked around and discovered Louise had been spending a lot of time with David. He may have gone to the school, confronted him about it …’
‘You think it could have something to do with David’s disappearance?’
‘I don’t know, but it could have got nasty, couldn’t it? I’m not saying this boyfriend would have done anything intentionally, but you never know how these things are going to turn out, especially if it got physical.’
‘Do you reckon Caitlin knows … about this Louise I mean?’
‘Doubt it. Unless she turned a blind eye, but …’
‘And if she knew?’ Michelle paused.
Nick shrugged. ‘Then they’d probably have had one mighty bust-up, but it would hardly account for him vanishing.’
Michelle looked at Nick but said nothing. She felt uneasy. Couldn’t his theory hold true the other way round? How would Caitlin have reacted if she’d discovered her husband was having an affair? ‘I guess,’ she said.
‘Anyway, I think we should meet Andy Quinn again, try to figure out if he’s the one behind the social media stuff. Despite what he claims, he must have his own theory about what happened to David, and I’d like to hear it.’
Michelle nodded, but her mind was back at Thornton’s field, thinking of Lydia Davis and her reluctance to talk about her niece.