‘So where’s Redmond?’ asked Layla. She had never seen her mother frightened before, but she was seeing it now. ‘What’s so bad about Redmond?’
Annie shook her head. ‘You really don’t want to know.
‘What is he, some sort of freak?’
‘All right! He’s a pervert who loves inflicting pain. It turns him on, hurting people.’
Layla’s pallor increased as Annie’s words hit home. ‘This is a nightmare,’ she said, burying her head in her hands.
Annie sat down beside her daughter. ‘No. Nightmare’s over,’ she said.
The truth was she didn’t believe that for a minute. Orla’s turning up tonight had re-awakened old traumas, old half-buried fears.
‘I wish Dad was here,’ said Layla.
Annie found herself wishing that, too. But only for an instant. She’d schooled herself well since the divorce. Now she was convinced of one simple fact: she could live without that bastard Max Carter.
But Orla Delaney had come back, a ghost from the past, and the vision of Orla lying dead was still stamped on Annie’s brain.
How did you do it, Orla?
How?
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ asked Annie.
Annie and Layla were in the dining room the morning after the break-in, eating breakfast. Or at least trying to. A sense of unreality was gripping them both. Annie couldn’t stop thinking, Orla, that was Orla. And if Orla was alive… does that mean Redmond is too?
Perverted, ice-cool Redmond Delaney, who’d once left her for dead…
She felt a shiver take hold, had to set the cup down before the hot liquid spilled. The mere thought of Redmond terrified her. Orla’s survival had to be a fluke, surely. Redmond couldn’t have lived. Constantine had arranged things. And Constantine rarely made mistakes.
Oh no? He’d got himself murdered, hadn’t he? He can’t have been infallible, else he’d have uncovered the plot to kill him.
‘Eat something,’ said Annie. ‘You’ll feel better.’
Layla looked at the toast, the tea. Annie was forcing down a slice or two, sipping from the cup. Layla couldn’t. She’d killed someone, shot them dead. Her mind was constantly replaying the moment the bullet hit Orla – then it would flinch away in horror. All that blood, smeared on the wall. She kept hoping that last night had been an awful dream. That at any moment she would wake up to the real world, and everything would be right again.
Reluctantly she picked up a slice of toast and started buttering it. ‘I couldn’t tell you about the man in the park – you were in the States,’ she said.
‘Bullshit. Someone tries to attack you and you don’t call me?’ Annie was incensed.
‘You were due home that night, I wouldn’t have been able to get hold of you. I told Auntie Dolly,’ said Layla.