‘I cannot imagine the anger you must have inside. You were lucky there were people there to stop you. Your experience was so unique, Sally, and even though you don’t remember, you know what he did. It’s horrific. Still, Caroline is a different matter.’
‘Poor Udo and Nadine. And Lina. I didn’t even think about how Caroline’s words would have affected them. I’ll call them tomorrow to apologize.’
‘Good girl.’
‘Aunt Christine?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m a woman, not a girl.’
‘I’m sorry, it’s because I’ve known you since you were a little girl.’
‘What was I like then? The first time you met me.’
‘Honestly? Silent. Jean and Tom treated you as if nothing had happened. They didn’t enrol you in school for the first year. You slept an awful lot. Jean and Tom argued about that. She didn’t think you should be sedated. If you don’t mind me saying so, Tom was arrogant, insisting always that he was better qualified. You didn’t like it when Donald visited with me. It upset him, you know. He would never have harmed anyone in his life, but you ran from him. Jean was the only one who could hold you or hug you, and even then, you struggled a bit, though I suppose that’s not so unusual for six-year-olds.’
‘Didn’t I ever ask about my mother? My real mother?’
‘No, Tom was determined that you would forget she existed.’
‘It worked.’
‘Maybe it was for the best? We’ll never know.’
My head nodded to my chest.
‘Let’s go to bed. We’re both exhausted. And we have children coming back tomorrow.’
The children arrived promptly at twelve. I’d said they could stay from twelve to three. Udo volunteered to keep watch at the front of the house and I gladly accepted. I warned him not to let Mark down the lane either. I said we’d had a disagreement and I didn’t want to see him. Udo didn’t ask any further questions. I tried to apologize for Caroline’s racist abuse of him, but he said I didn’t owe him an apology.
I made some lemonade for the children and put out plates of leftover cake. Angela arrived, admitting a hangover.
‘Don’t you have tablets for that?’
‘They don’t take away the embarrassment. I sang. In front of people. In front of patients. I had a go on the bouncy castle, despite all my dire warnings, at my age.’
‘I noticed that,’ I laughed.
‘Nadine is still in bed. She’s worse than me.’
Aunt Christine and I told her what had happened with Mark.
‘Oh God, what the hell is his problem? When did he first turn up here, Sally, in Carricksheedy?’
‘Around February or March, I think? The first time I met him, he tried to get me into his car, but after that he was apologetic. And he was so polite, concerned. But he was always asking about what was going on with the investigation into Conor Geary, and about what I remembered from childhood. I asked him to stop more than once. He’d asked to see those files before.’
‘Maybe he’s one of those true crime geeks?’
‘Do you think he might have deliberately got a job here to get close to Sally?’
‘It’s possible.’
‘Where does he live?’
‘In the same apartment block as Sue and Kenneth.’
‘What about his family?’
‘He has an ex-wife, Elaine. He’s never mentioned parents or siblings. From Dublin originally.’
‘Have you ever googled him?’
‘I did,’ said Aunt Christine. ‘I found nothing suspicious. Worked in various accountancy firms but seemed to be in a more senior position than he is now. A few photos here and there, some old ones from about fifteen years ago which included the ex-wife, Elaine Beatty.’
‘What about school?’
‘I didn’t find anything that went back further than twenty years.’
‘Does he have a LinkedIn profile?’
I was familiar with LinkedIn. I had registered when looking for a job. They sent me annoying notifications about jobs I couldn’t possibly do or in which I had no interest.
‘Yes, but there was nothing about his school on there.’
I was confused. ‘Why would it matter what school he went to?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Angela, ‘but I’m going to do some digging.’
‘There’s another thing,’ I said. ‘I asked him ages ago if he was romantically interested in me and he said he was interested in Anubha, but yesterday, she told me that he practically ignored her at work.’
‘Playing hard to get?’
‘I don’t think they even like each other.’
‘It’s all very odd.’
Sue came to collect her children and joined us in the sitting room. She asked me if I knew anything about Mark going on holiday.
‘Why?’
‘I saw him throwing suitcases and boxes into his car. I asked him where he was off to and he mumbled that he was in a hurry and drove off.’
‘I have a bad feeling about this,’ said Aunt Christine.
Sue wanted to know what was going on. Angela explained calmly that we were a bit worried about him, that his behaviour had been erratic. ‘I’m sure there’s an explanation,’ said Sue. ‘He’s always nice to us, but he was definitely peculiar this morning.’ She went out to summon her children.
Angela suggested that we keep this quiet. No point in causing a fuss or maligning Mark if he was just a true crime fanatic. It wasn’t against the law.
They all left together. I felt strange in the house on my own. I couldn’t wait to move out of it. The unpleasantness with Caroline and then Mark made me feel unsafe.
What happened the next morning terrified me.
I didn’t sleep well. I put on my dressing gown over my pyjamas and went down to the kitchen to turn on the kettle for some tea. After breakfast, I went through the house making notes of whose Post-it was on what item so that I could arrange collection. I heard the flap at the front door go and went out to collect my post. There was an envelope addressed to Mary Norton, my birth name. It had a New Zealand postmark. I opened it with shaking hands.
It was a birthday card. Fluffy kittens on the front, something appropriate for a child.
It’s your real birthday, Mary. 45 today, 15th September. Not sure if this will arrive on the right day, but I think it’s important that you should know.
S
It was a day late. I rang Angela but it went straight to voicemail. This was an emergency. I rang Detective Inspector Howard. She said not to touch the card. She would send somebody over.
The doorbell rang five minutes later. I hid in the sitting room, but peeked out of the window to see if it was a guard. I saw that it was the men who had come to take the bouncy castle away. They made their way around to the back of the house and packed it up. I didn’t go out to them. They left in their truck. They didn’t need to see me. I’d already paid up front.
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang again. I heard Angela’s voice. ‘Sally, it’s me!’
I let her in and, before I could even show her the card, she said, ‘Sally, Mark Butler is not who he says he is.’