Chapter 39

39

It was almost eleven a.m. when Shannon woke up. Her thumping head and the ache in her stomach was the result of consuming too much alcohol and not enough food. Easing her feet to the floor, she averted her eyes from the tangle of clothes strewn around the room. A glimpse at the mascara-streaked pillow told her she had fallen asleep without removing her make-up.

And then she remembered.

The uneasy feeling of being followed home.

She thought of phoning Jess to tell her about it, but then remembered Jess would be at work. Work!

‘Oh no,' she groaned. George was so annoyed with her that he hadn't woken her for work. Another sick day wouldn't go down well with her manager, much as she hated working as a cleaner in the hospital. Maybe she should check in with the escort agency to see if anyone had been matched with her.

She scrambled around under her pillow until she found her phone. Dead. With aching limbs she searched for the charger. Still in the socket on the wall. She plugged in the phone and waited. As it came to life, she saw the day and date appear. Saturday. No work. Thank God.

Curling up on the bed, phone in hand, she was unable to dislodge the feeling she'd had on the way home last night. And then there was that shadow outside the front door. Should she tell George? No, she'd have to pay him back first. She was afraid to ask him what she owed. No doubt he'd throw the figure around throughout the day.

Once the phone had enough charge, she watched the screen light up with notifications, missed calls and messages.

‘What the hell?' She opened her eyes wide, wondering what was going on.

The notifications were from Facebook and Instagram. But the missed calls and messages were all from Jess.

She read through the texts frantically.

John Morgan was dead. How? When?

She scanned the rest of Jess's messages. They mainly consisted of questions. Where are you? Answer your phone? Did you hear? Reply asap. Come on. Is it the John you knew? He's dead. Murdered.

She reread the last message.

Murdered.

Her hands shook uncontrollably. She dropped the phone on the bed. What was going on? The only thing she knew with certainty was that she was terrified.

After showering and looping her hair in a messy bun, Shannon dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a white knitted jumper. She pulled on her socks and boots, and grabbed a rain jacket from the back of the bedroom door before making her way downstairs.

‘The dead has arisen at last,' George said when she entered the kitchen.

‘Thought you had work to catch up on.'

‘I'm minding Davy, seeing as my drunk sister who offered to help is hungover.'

‘You could have called me.' She slipped a slice of bread into the toaster.

‘You think I didn't try? You were dead to the world. I did everything except throw a basin of cold water over you.'

‘Okay. Sorry. I'm not going out tonight.'

‘Where are you headed now?'

‘To meet Jess.'

‘Really?'

‘Yes, really.' She flicked the switch on the toaster and the bread popped up, still limp. Without waiting to butter it, she bit off a corner and chewed. ‘Did you hear any more about that girl's murder?'

‘Only what's on the news.'

‘Jess said someone else was killed. A man.'

‘I read that online. Some builder out at that fancy new development. Pine Grove.'

‘That's going to be a fab estate when it's finished. I'm going to live there one day. Did it say who it was or what happened to him?'

‘No name yet. Why? Do you know him?'

‘How would I know if I know him, Einstein, if I don't know his name?' She wondered how Jess had the name if it hadn't yet been released. Probably all over Twitter.

‘God, you really need to give up the drink. You're like ten bags of cats with a hangover.'

‘I'm just hungry.' She turned to leave. ‘I'll get a chicken fillet roll at the garage on my way into town.'

‘Do me a favour, seeing as you spent all my money last night.'

‘What do you want? A double chicken fillet roll?'

‘No, take Davy with you. You told me last night you'd mind him, and I have work to do or I'll be fired and then we're fucked.' He pointed to his laptop on the table.

‘But he's sick.'

‘A few goes on the swings in the park might perk him up. It's not good for a kid to be cooped up all day.'

‘If you lend me a twenty, I'll take him with me.'

‘Jesus, Shannon, I'm not made of money. I'll get his coat.'

‘Money first.'

He flicked through his wallet. ‘I only have a fifty.'

She snatched it from his hand. ‘I'll bring back the change. Promise.'

After the plate-throwing incident, he couldn't relax in his usual safe place. He got in the car and left the house just as she arrived home. Good, because he was unable to face her. Not now. Not after all that had happened.

An invisible magnet drew him to Cairnbeg, the sprawling housing estate he'd been in the night before. He parked on the opposite side to the house where he'd seen her enter and eased back the seat, scooting down out of sight.

After a while, the door opened and out she came. A childish bobble hat on her head and a purple rain jacket. What was she waiting for? Come on, pretty girl, let's get going, he thought.

She stretched back her hand, and that was when he saw the stroller.

‘A kid. Another one with a kid! Do they all have fucking kids?' When his breath fogged up the windscreen, he realised he'd been talking aloud. Could his life get any worse?

He kept watch as she made her way through the estate. Follow her? Yes. In the car? No. She could be going somewhere he couldn't drive. On foot, then.

He found his scarf on the back seat and locked the car. Tightening the scarf against the sharp mid-morning breeze, he fell into step behind her. She was walking slowly, so he eased his pace. If she glanced behind her, who would she see? A man with a hat pulled low over his forehead, a scarf up around his mouth. His jacket was black, nondescript like his trousers.

Maybe he could catch up. Make small talk. Find out what made her tick. No, keep your distance and don't make a mistake. His thoughts echoed what she would say, and that enraged him. He clenched his fists in his pockets and walked as slowly as he could without appearing more suspicious than he supposed he was already.

Sitting on the cold bench in the park, Shannon kept her eyes focused on Davy. His spots had died down a little and she hoped the contagious phase had passed. Plus, she didn't want anyone commenting on his chickenpox. Jess could be insensitive at times.

Checking her phone again with one eye on the boy, she found that there was no update from her friend since she'd texted to say she'd meet her. About to put the phone away and get up to push the child on the swing, it rang. She gazed at the caller ID. What was he ringing her for? Everything was supposed to be done through the web portal.

‘Hi,' she said tentatively.

‘Shannie. I've got a date for you. Tonight. Interested?'

‘Sure. Hope he's loaded. I'm bloody broke.'

‘He knows you're not to pay for anything. I'll send him your number to make the arrangements.'

‘Why not do it through the portal?'

‘Bit awkward at the moment. Did you hear the news?'

‘About what?'

‘The woman who was murdered. The guards are all over it, but you've nothing to worry about. It'll blow over in a day or two.'

‘What are you talking about?' A creeping itch spread up her spine and settled at the nape of her neck. Fear. ‘Why would the guards be on to you?'

‘I didn't say that. Don't worry your pretty head. I'm dealing with it. Have a good night tonight.'

He rang off before she could quiz him further. He'd referred to the murdered girl, Laura Nolan. She'd met her last year. And what about John Morgan? If Jess had got the name right. Was his murder linked to Laura's? Did that mean she was in danger too?

She glanced up to see Davy dangling from the monkey rings by his little hands.

‘Jesus Christ, Davy! How did you get up there?' She ran towards him.

‘Nice man helped me.'

‘What man? Davy! What man?'

‘He's gone.'

‘Where?' She looked all around but saw no one else.

‘Push me on the swing now.'

‘Where is the man?'

‘Don't know. Push me?'

‘Sure.' She lifted him down and brought him to the swings.

The little hairs on the back of her neck refused to lie down. She had the same feeling she'd had last night.

She was being watched.