Click clack, click clack. Donna’s heels pound the tiled floor inside. When she opens the door, she’s holding a glass of wine in her hand. Her hair looks like she just left my salon, puffed and perfect framing a beautifully made-up face. Donna is dressed in a tight pair of white jeans with a royal blue T-shirt hugging her chest. Her hand stretches out to pull me inside.
‘Delighted you called, darling,’ she says, closing the door behind me.
I wasn’t sure whether I should call or not but I thought Donna might be a better option than going home. I sent Donna a text to see if she was busy. Her reply:
‘Here.’ She hands me a glass of red wine.
‘But I have the car, Donna, I can’t…’
She puts her finger over my lips quietening my plea and bends forward looking into my eyes. ‘Leave the car, Sal. Walk. You’re under a lot of pressure, one glass won’t do any harm.’
I’m not sure what I should do. I only planned on popping in for a quick chat but then I think, why not? Tom never worries about leaving me alone on a Friday night, why should I worry about him? The kids will be asleep shortly. Amber is next door so she won’t even know I’m not home. I’ll have two glasses, no more, leave the car and walk around the corner to my house. We can talk then.
‘Thanks, Donna,’ I say swallowing down half a glass in one gulp.
Donna laughs. ‘I’m guessing there’s more you want to tell me.’ She tops up my glass.
‘There is.’
When Donna is updated she assures me that I am doing the right thing. This should be between Tom and me, she says, devaluing any interference from the social worker. Donna also suggests that Tom and I should sit down and talk about it, that we both need to know each other’s feelings. Shouting things out during a row doesn’t count. I can tell the woman has probably indulged in a bit of counselling herself.
Donna surprises me when she asks me to be understanding of Tom’s situation. Even though he lied to me about how long he has known about Kenny, he probably only lied because he’s a man and in Donna’s opinion men never know what to do. ‘Always kicking the can down the road,’ she says. Thankfully the red wine is dulling my senses. At this stage I’m just listening to her words.
After what felt like an hour but the clock on the wall confirms to be two, I begin to wonder why Tom hasn’t rung looking for me. Does he not care where I am? Lifting the phone from my handbag my breathing stops. Endless missed calls and messages. Shit, I’d forgotten to take it off silent when I left the social worker.
‘I better ring him.’ But the phone goes straight to voicemail – and shit, some of these calls are from Amber’s phone.
‘Something’s up, Donna.’ Standing up quickly, the room spins, so I hold on tightly to the corner of the counter. ‘Everyone’s looking for me.’
‘Now don’t panic.’ She gets me a glass with water. ‘Everyone is always looking for Mammy when she disappears for a few hours.’
‘No, something’s up, I know it, Amber should not be ringing me, she’s supposed to be next door babysitting and Tom’s phone is going to voicemail.’
‘Here, drink this.’ Donna hands me the glass of cold water. It slips down my throat like a shot of reality. She takes the empty glass and goes back to the sink to fill it up again. I’m hitting Amber’s contact with my shaky finger.
‘Where the fuck are you?’ she yells down the phone. I’m shocked by her language but even more shocked by the fear in her voice.
‘Amber, what’s going on?’
‘We were looking everywhere for you, ringing you, ringing the salon.’
‘What is it, Amber?’ My heart beats faster, something bad has happened.
‘Come home, Ma, please, come home now.’
‘I’m on my way, Amber. I’ll be there in two minutes. What’s going on? What happened?’ My mind races, I picture an accident, Cian, Aaron, blood, I see tears, I see frightened little faces. Taking a deep breath, I try not to show Amber how panicked I am.
‘Are the boys okay?’
‘Yes, Cian and Aaron are fine, they’re in bed asleep. It’s Da.’ Amber is scared, her voice rising with every word.
‘Tom? What happened to him?’
‘The police were here, Ma.’
My legs buckle beneath me. Donna moves the stool for me to sit down. ‘The police? What the hell did they want?’
‘I don’t know.’ Amber is crying, panicking at the far end of the phone.
‘It’s going to be okay, Amber, it was just a silly car accident. He knocked down someone on a bike, they’re...’
‘They took him to the station, Mam.’ Oh God, poor Amber. Donna is telling me to relax.
‘What? The station?’ I end the call and run.
Ellen is standing at the door. Amber’s face is red from crying. A shudder runs down my back when I see Amber holding Rena’s baby on her hip. I don’t know why but I don’t like the picture.
‘What’s going on?’ I say, panting my way to the front door.
‘They took Dad away in the car,’ Amber cries. I pull her close and hug her and the baby in her arms tightly.
‘I know all about it, Amber. It was just an accident with a cyclist, Dad will be fine.’
Tom called Ellen to come over to sit with the boys because he couldn’t get me on the phone. Amber saw it all from the next-door neighbour’s window. If I’d have been here the cops wouldn’t have had to stay so long. Amber might have missed it. But apparently it took half an hour for Ellen to arrive and the lights were flashing outside the house. But why did they take Tom to the station? The accident, the cyclist? Or, please don’t let it be something to do with the dead woman?
‘Dad couldn’t get you on the phone, so he had to ring Nan and I had to come in with Owen because I was too scared to stay next door on my own when I didn’t know where you were.’
‘I’m sorry, I was at a friend’s house and my phone was on silent.’
Ellen is saying nothing with words, it’s all written on her face. She shakes her head at me then winks a nod to get rid of Amber.
‘Go back inside, Amber, put Owen in his bed, everything is okay, your dad was in an accident the other day. They just want to clarify some details. It’s nothing serious, so don’t worry, sweetie. Would you like me to ring Rena to come home early?’
Taking a deep breath, Amber leans in for me to hug her. ‘No, it’s okay.’ Owen whimpers in Amber’s arms. Cuddling him, she walks away, turning when she gets to the end of the garden. ‘Call me if anyone else breaks the law.’
My head is thumping, my mouth, dry as burnt toast. When Amber is safely inside Rena’s house, Ellen closes the door and we both walk into the kitchen. She reaches for the painkillers while I pour myself a glass of water.
‘The police weren’t here over the cyclist’s accident, Sally.’
No, please no, don’t say what I think you’re going to say.
‘If they weren’t here over the accident, why were they here? Do you know?’ Ellen’s face is white with worry, her eyes sad, her breathing laboured.
‘They wanted to ask him questions about some woman. Claire McCarthy.’
‘Claire McCarthy? Who the hell is Claire McCarthy.’
‘She’s the woman who was murdered in Sycamore last week.’
Ellen stares at me, unable to disguise the fear in her eyes. Her stare lingers, as if she’s searching my face for answers. Answers that I don’t have.