Alex Barclay - Darkhouse

‘Do I have to sit here?’ he said. ‘I feel sick.’

‘No, no, you go,’ said Anna, tilting his chin up. He looked away, then left the table.

Frank stood quietly in the doorway, smiling at Nora. She never let him down. He knew she would have got out of bed as soon as he left. There was something about her and that navy satin dressing gown that always touched his heart. She hadn’t heard him come in. She sat in a corner of the sofa, her legs stretched out and resting on the low table in front of her. One hand was flicking through a book telling her how to de-clutter her life. The other was reaching out for her coffee mug. She missed the handle, but grabbed it back before it rocked off the side. Frank laughed. She jumped.

‘You’re dreadful,’ she said, smiling. She put down the mug and turned around to him.

‘Well?’ she said, closing the book.

‘There’s still no sign of her.’

‘Really?’

Frank nodded.

‘How was Martha?’

‘Very upset. God love her, though, she’s very innocent. I asked her a few questions, but I think it scared the life out of her... and I hadn’t even gone near the serious ones.’

‘Ah, it’s hard for someone like Martha. She’s from another era.’

‘God knows, Katie could have got fed up with how strict she is and run away to make a point.’

‘Maybe. And who knows? Martha’s never got over Matt’s death, maybe her moping around the house all the time made Katie feel guilty for getting on with her own life.’

‘Could be.’

‘Or maybe it just suffocated the poor girl.’

‘Possibly,’ said Frank.

They looked at each other. They knew they were already sounding desperate.

‘Either way, we’ll know soon enough,’ said Nora. ‘Good kids like Katie don’t last too long away from home. She’ll be back before lunch, probably.’

‘I feel guilty even saying this, but I called the hospitals and a few of the other stations, but nothing.’

‘I don’t know whether that’s a good or a bad thing,’ said Nora.

‘Hmm.’

‘And what about Shaun?’

‘I don’t know what’s going on there,’ said Frank. ‘He didn’t walk her home even though he was out with her. We’re always seeing him walking her home, that funny walk they do, wrapped around each other.’

‘I know,’ said Nora.

‘And he didn’t come with Joe and Anna to Martha’s.’

‘What was he doing?’

‘Waiting for her to call him, says Joe.’

‘That’s a bit odd,’ said Nora. ‘You’d think he’d want to be around everyone. And surely, if she didn’t get hold of him, she would have called her mother, let her know she’s all right.’

‘I had a chat with him after Martha’s,’ said Frank, ‘and the poor lad definitely seems out of it.’

She studied Frank’s face.

‘You’re worried.’

‘Yes I am, actually.’ His eyes were tired and sad.

Nora was about to ask another question, but he held up a finger.

‘I can’t really stop,’ he said. ‘I’m going to have to talk to some of Katie’s friends, maybe have a look around the harbour and the strand and out towards town, see if I can see anything. If she isn’t back after that, I suppose I’ll have to call it in to Waterford, make it official.’

Shaun walked for a mile past Shore’s Rock along the scenic route from the village. He climbed the iron gate into Millers’ Orchard and jumped down onto the path. John Miller was hunched in the corner, shovelling leaves into a smoking pile, far enough away not to notice Shaun run along the wall to the opposite side and slide down behind the trunk of an apple tree. He closed his eyes and was still in the same position ten minutes later when footsteps behind him made him jump.

‘Hi,’ said Ali.

‘Hi. What’s up?’

She sat down beside him and took out an empty soda can. It was bent forward at the bottom and pierced with nine tiny holes. She pulled some grass out of a plastic bag.

She turned to him. ‘Where do you think she’s gone?’

She put the grass over the holes and held the opening of the can to her mouth. She held her lighter to the grass and sucked in hard. She tried to pass it to Shaun. He shook his head.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’ve spent the whole morning wandering everywhere...’

‘I went into town to look for her around the shops. Which I know was a bit stupid.’

‘It’s just not like her to—’

‘I know.’

‘This was my last resort.’

‘Me too.’

Nora and Frank locked eyes when the phone rang. He was sitting at the kitchen table, trying to eat a sandwich. He slowly reached across to answer it.

‘Frank, it’s Martha. She still isn’t back.’

‘All right,’ he said firmly, looking at his watch. It was twelve o’clock. ‘What I think I’m going to have to do now is call Waterford.’ Waterford Garda Station was the district station over Mountcannon.

Martha gasped at the other end of the phone. He could barely hear her when she spoke.

‘OK. Thanks.’

‘So I imagine a Detective Inspector will be out to see you later on this evening. Do you have someone with you, Martha?’

‘Yes. My sister, Jean.’

‘All right. I’ll let you know what’s happening.’ He put down the phone and dialled Waterford. He was surprised at how his heart had started racing. He never suspected the worst of anyone or any situation, but he was now hit with a fear he tried to tell himself was irrational.

Joe bent down and looked at the four pieces of steak under the grill. The butter had barely melted on them. The Worcestershire sauce wasn’t sizzling.

‘Get away from there,’ said Anna.

‘Come on. Steak sandwiches. You never say no.’

‘The only problem is that you know none of us are going to eat. And the last thing you need is something to chew.’ She tapped the side of her face. He looked under the grill again. She sighed.

‘I hope I’m wrong,’ said Joe. ‘But I think there’s something Shaun’s not telling us.’

‘What? But he would have said something to Frank earlier.’

Joe straightened up, turned off the grill and slid the steaks into the bin.

‘I’m not so sure,’ he said. ‘I think it’s something he doesn’t want to tell anyone. He wasn’t even being put under any pressure and... I don’t know... he looked kinda scared.’

‘Worried, probably. I think it was because we took him by surprise, arriving back with Frank like that. I don’t think he thought Martha would have called the police that soon.’

‘Maybe.’

She stood up. ‘I’m making you one of your shakes. You can use a straw. And it will be better than that LV8 energy stuff, full of caffeine.’

‘It’s pronounced “elevate”.’

‘I don’t care,’ she said. ‘All I know is anything that comes in bright colours like that is not good for you.’

He rolled his eyes. Anna went to the fridge for the ingredients. She pulled the liquidiser out from the wall and threw in a sliced banana, two scoops of ice-cream, two teaspoons of peanut butter, a spoon of honey and filled the rest up with milk, whizzing it until it was creamy. She put in a straw and handed it to Joe.

The Garda station at Mountcannon was small and neat, with grey floors, cream walls and bulletin boards with posters on awareness of everything from drinking and driving to using machinery near overhead wires. There was no cell; just a main office, Frank Deegan’s office, a kitchen and a bathroom. Frank leaned back in his chair, his light blue shirt straining across his armpits. Detective Inspector Myles O’Connor had driven fifteen miles from Waterford city and was sitting on the edge of his desk with a stylus in his hand, punching text into a slim silver PDA. He was the first person Frank had seen who looked comfortable with one.