Denise Mina - Garnethill

The doorbell rang downstairs. "Fuck," said Liam. "If that's Pete…" He put the pot of tea down, walked across the room and peered out of the window. He waved down to someone on the front steps. "Fuck me if it isn't himself," he muttered.

Maureen stood up and looked out. Benny was standing on the stairs waving up at them cheerfully. She waved back.

One hundred yards farther down the road a wet policeman and a dry policeman were sitting in the Volkswagen. They recognized Benny as the third party seen leaving the Scaramouch Street residence on Thursday morning. They guessed rightly that he was the householder, Brendan Gardner. The dry officer turned to the wet officer. "This guy keeps coming up, doesn't he?"

Liam waved out of the window. "We gonnae let the cunt in?" he asked.

"Got to," she said. "Don't let on, Liam, eh?"

Liam stomped down the stairs. She could hear the front door swing open and Benny greeting Liam in a loud happy call. Liam grunted something.

Benny walked up the stairs and stood in the doorway. "All right, Mauri?" He smiled. "Just passing. I had my first exam today."

"Right. I didn't think they had exams on Saturdays anymore."

Benny shrugged. "Old-fashioned college."

"How did it go?"

"Okay."

Liam brushed past him gruffly and picked up his cup of tea.

"How are ye, Liam, man?" asked Benny.

"Fine," said Liam, picking up a bit of paper from the desk and pretending to read it.

Benny paused for a still moment and looked at him, confused by his mood. He turned to Maureen and made a bewildered face. She raised an eyebrow. "Want a cup of tea, then?" she said, walking toward the door and motioning for him to follow her. They went downstairs to the kitchen.

It was chaotic: the police seemed to have concentrated their search in there. Liam usually left it a mess anyway because it was next to the front room. The window was almost opaque with dirt, the floor was half ripped lino, half bare rotting floorboards. Fossilized dirt had turned the old cooker from white to an uneven brown. The police had emptied spice jars into the sink, the contents of the fridge and freezer were stacked on the table and had defrosted over the surface and onto the floor. The crockery, cutlery and saucepans had been taken out of the cupboards and left in piles on the work tops.

"What's wrong with Liam now?" asked Benny, unperturbed by the state of the kitchen.

"It's family stuff. Winnie's turned rabid."

"No, really?"

"Yeah," she said, and began to cry. She tried to stop but couldn't help herself. She was struggling for breath, gasping and weeping open-faced like a lost child. Benny put his arms around her and whispered consolations into her damp hair. She murmured his name, repeating it over and over, holding him tight until she'd calmed down.

"What's she done?" he said when she let go. He rubbed her back gently. "What's she done now, Mauri?"

She could see Liam over Benny's shoulder, walking through the front room toward them. She held Benny tight. "She's lost it. She went mental and threw Liam out of the house."

She caught Liam's eye over Benny's shoulder and gave him a hard look. Benny pressed his face into her neck. "You all right now?" he muttered.

"I'm all right," she said. "It's not the best run of luck I've ever had, though, is it?"

"Guess not," he said.

Liam put the kettle on. "Benny, man, how'd the exam go?" he said, smiling genially.

They brought some big cushions and the portable telly from Liam's bedroom into the upstairs room so they could watch Repo Man on TV. She hadn't realized but the day had worn her out. She lay down to rest her eyes during the ads and fell asleep. They covered her with a duvet.

She woke up in the middle of the night, clammy in her day clothes, and undressed sleepily as she made her way to the spare bedroom, falling asleep the moment she lay down. She dreamed that Martin was combing her hair to comfort her.

Before she even opened her eyes the next morning she knew that it was time to move home to Garnethill.

She was going to make Liam breakfast but when she looked in on him he was still asleep. There was a large hole in the floor next to his bed: the floorboards had been lifted and left next to the empty space. Nails were sticking up vertically out of the planks, like the ragged teeth on a latent predator. The contents of his clothes cupboard had been thrown onto the floor and the black-and-white checkered linoleum in the en suite bathroom had been ripped up. Maureen shut the door quietly and crept downstairs. No wonder he was fucked off.

She picked a twenty-four-hour locksmith out of the Yellow Pages and dialed the number. They said that there would be a twenty-quid bonus charge because it was Sunday but she didn't care. The man on the phone took her address in Garnethill and said he'd send someone over at twelve with a new bolt and Yale.

She was drinking a coffee and packing her answer phone into a plastic bag when the phone rang out. "Hello," said Una. "I phoned Benny's but he said you were at Liam's."

"Well," said Maureen, "here I am."

She was intent on meeting Maureen to tell her some good news.

"I can't see you, Una," Maureen said, mindful of Liam's warning. "I'm moving back home today."

But Una was determined. She'd come over to Liam's, she said, and drive Maureen and her answerphone home. Una had driven since she was seventeen and refused to believe that anyone would rather walk anywhere.

"Well, okay, but I'm leaving now and Liam's still asleep. He's exhausted, so just knock, okay? Don't ring the bell."

When the knock came on Liam's front door Maureen threw on her coat and scarf and picked up the bag. She opened the door and stepped outside, pecked Una briskly on the cheek and turned away to lock the front door behind her.

"Aren't we going to have a cup of tea?" asked Una, sensing a strained atmosphere and preparing to be offended on the slightest pretext.

"Well, I need to get on, really," said Maureen.

Una looked aggrieved. "All right, then," she said magnanimously. "If you're in such a big hurry."

They walked down the front steps to Una's company car. It was a big green Rover with a walnut dashboard and electric windows and everything. It was Una's pride and joy. She started the engine and told Maureen the good news: Marie was coming up for a visit the day after next and the girls were all meeting up at Winnie's for a lovely lunch on Thursday.

Maureen thought about the three of them together, sitting around the kitchen table, waiting for her to arrive. Why were they having a lunch and not a dinner, like they usually did when Marie came home, and why wasn't Liam invited? He would stand up for her if he was there. They must be planning something: they were going to confront her, tell her everything she remembered was a lie and she was mental.

As they drove down the Maryhill Road Maureen noticed Una's eyes flicking to the side when she dared, checking on her wee sister, making sure she wasn't doing anything crazy. Maureen couldn't think of anything to say. They'd call Louisa Wishart if she got upset, that would be the first thing they'd do.

She was hot with worry by the time they got halfway down the Maryhill Road. Una asked why she was so quiet and she pretended she hadn't slept well. "Mum's angry with me for taking my photos away."

"I know," said Una, drawing her lips tight together and clenching her jaw.

"But they were mine and she was selling them to the newspapers."

"No, Maureen," said Una, holding her hand up. "Mum didn't sell them."

"Well, she gave them away, then."

"Yes, which is different," said Una.

They fell into an uneasy silence. The car's engine hummed quietly as they drew up to the traffic lights and stopped.