No Way to Say Goodbye - Anna McPartlin [100]
Much later that night, when Sam closed his eyes he dreamed of the woman only a wall away. Even as he luxuriated in her warm smile, chasing after her beckoning hand in a world full of colour and light, she descended to the depths of darkness and a place in which, again, she saw the hooded teenage boy curled into a bloodied ball.
Suddenly the boy was staring at her. “Save me!” he begged.
23. Sacrificed
Mary was just outside the Kerry border when smoke began to pour out from under the car’s bonnet. Within moments she had pulled over to the side of the road with a car full of whiskey and what appeared to be a clapped-out engine. She called the AA and was told the wait would be at least an hour. The guy joked that she should get comfortable, which annoyed rather than entertained her. She cursed herself for having forgotten her all-important travel CD collection.
It was after she’d grown tired of flicking through radio stations that she phoned Ivan. He picked up without much delay.
“You’re not going to believe where I am,” she said.
“Where?”
“On the side of the road in a clapped-out car waiting for the AA,” she said.
“You’re not going to believe where I am,” he countered.
“Where?”
“Kerry airport.”
“Norma!” she gasped.
“She’s coming home,” he said, clearly relieved.
“Oh, that’s fantastic! Where’s she staying?”
“With me and the kids,” he said happily.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your relationship with Sienna is on dangerous enough ground already,” Mary reminded him.
“But now that Norma’s home it’ll get better.”
“Not if she’s living in your house, Ivan! God almighty!”
“All right, calm down. I’ll work something out.”
“You do that,” she said, and hung up.
It was just after seven in the evening, and as the tow truck appeared to be light years away she made sure that her hazard lights were on, locked her doors and settled down for a snooze.
Ivan drove out of the airport with his wife in the passenger seat, the kids buzzing in the back. Norma had made a remarkable recovery. She looked fresh and happy, and was grateful for the lift.
“Don’t be soft – we were hardly going to let you get a taxi,” he said.
The kids laughed at the notion.
“The woman’s put flowers in the spare room for you,” Justine announced.
“Her name is Sienna,” Ivan said.
“That’s nice of her,” Norma said politely.
“Chris says they look gay,” Justine noted.
“Well, he shouldn’t,” Ivan told her. “Your uncle Barry is gay.”
“I know,” Chris replied. “That’s why I call him Uncle Gay.” He grinned at his mother, who had turned to laugh with him.
“Sorry,” she said, in response to Ivan’s dirty look.
He grinned.
Just like the old days.
*
Penny’s dry spell didn’t last as long as she’d hoped and, as she’d tipped most of her booze down the drain, she needed to stock up. Luckily she’d located a bottle of vodka in an old suitcase, having conducted a large-scale search operation. Once it was empty she was forced to go to the off-licence so she fixed her makeup, brushed her hair and straightened herself up generally before she got into the car to drive to town. She picked up a basket and, as she did so, she noticed, from the corner of her eye, that one of the two young Murphy girls behind the counter was pointing at her and making a glugging gesture, then mimicking a drunken walk. The other had a hand over her mouth to smother a snigger.
Penny dropped the basket and walked out.
Stupid little bitches! She vowed she wouldn’t return to that shop ever again. Instead, she decided to go to Killarney for her booze. It was a good twenty miles away from the local gossips and, besides, she could do with the drive.
In the car she started to panic. Her heart was racing and she felt so hot that she had to turn on the air-conditioning – usually she reserved it for stifling days. Beads of sweat rolled from the nape of her neck down her spine. What the hell am I doing? What the hell is wrong with me?