Kitabı oku: «The Life You Left», sayfa 3
Chapter Five
‘Come on, lazy bones,’ Molly shouted to her husband, Pat.
‘I’m on my way, woman,’ he answered good-naturedly. ‘I must be mad agreeing to a walk at this ungodly hour!’
It was 7.30 a.m. on a bright October morning and the elderly couple had arrived at Ballyaislinn beach, ready to have an early morning stroll.
‘You heard what the doctor told you,’ Molly continued, getting ready to go into full monologue. ‘Exercise and a healthy diet are very important for a man in your condition.’
Shaking his head, Pat knew there was no point arguing with his wife. Plus, he knew she was right. He had gotten pretty lazy since his retirement the year before. The most exercise he managed to get these days was switching the TV channels.
Catching his wife by her hand, the couple started their walk, chatting amicably about their grandchildren’s forthcoming visit that weekend.
After a few minutes, Molly paused as she heard a noise.
‘Did you hear that, Pat?’ she asked her husband.
He stopped beside his wife and listened, ready to tease her about hearing things. But he did hear something. ‘Yes. You’re right. Sounds like a baby crying, almost.’
They stood for another minute trying to work out the direction of the noise and then together walked from the shore towards the dune in front of them, where they felt the noise was coming from.
‘That’s definitely not a baby,’ Molly said suddenly. ‘That’s an animal of some kind. It sounds like a dog keening.’
Walking up the dune, Molly and Pat started to have a poke around the green dune grasses.
Molly stopped and grabbed her husband by the arm.
‘Let’s go home, Pat.’ She shivered despite the warm anorak she was wearing. Somehow she knew that whatever was over to her left would not be good.
‘You stay here, love.’ Pat said. ‘I’ll go check out this noise.’
Shaking her head, Molly indicated that she would be going with her husband if there was any investigating to do.
The couple ran over to the area where the noise was originating and then stopped suddenly. Never in their lives had they ever witnessed anything so terrible. Lying in the dunes, naked and bloodied beyond recognition was a body of a woman. Beside the woman almost as if keeping guard was a dog, also injured, with a large bloody gash across its body. It was the dog that was making the keening noise. Even without checking, Pat and Molly knew that the woman was dead. Had been for quite a while it seemed.
‘Molly, go call the Gardaí. Go on now, love.’ Pat shouted at his immobile wife.
‘I’m not leaving you here. What if whoever did this is still around?’ she asked in a terrified voice.
‘Whoever did this is long gone.’ He answered. He, of course, didn’t know this, but taking in the scene it looked to him like this had happened hours before.
‘Go get help, Molly.’ He finished more gently. He walked over to the body of the woman and carefully felt for a pulse. He didn’t expect to find one but he had to look.
He took no delight in being correct in his assumption. The poor woman was dead. He automatically crossed himself.
Shaking his head, Pat turned to the dog. ‘Here, boy.’ Pat said gently patting the dog’s head. ‘You hang in there.’
The dog looked up at Pat and he swore he saw tears in its eyes. He wasn’t sure what to do, but wait for Molly and help. Taking off his jacket he laid it gently over the dog and the woman. He didn’t think the dog was going to last much longer.
Sarah felt like her whole body was reeling. She had arrived at school to pick the kids up and the Principal, Art O’Leary was at the gate greeting the parents. Sarah liked Art and more importantly the children loved him. Surprisingly she noted there was no sign of any of the children coming out.
As she got closer to Art, she realised that something was very wrong. He looked awful, his eyes puffy and red. ‘I’ve some bad news I’m afraid. I’ve just been telling some of the other parents.’ He said to Sarah gently.
‘I’m sorry Sarah; there is no easy way to say this. Ms Finch, Rachel Finch, our 2nd class teacher has been found dead on Ballyaislinn beach this morning.’ He paused, and then added. ‘She – she was murdered,’ the normally articulate Art stammered. He was obviously deeply distressed.
The dream of the bloodied body on the beach flashed back into Sarah’s mind. Was that Rachel Finch? She felt the blood drain from her face and held onto Ella’s pram for support.
‘Ms Finch? That’s Katie’s teacher.’ Sarah eventually managed to say. ‘When, what happened?’ She felt sick. This was just awful. This was the kind of news you see on RTE news. You don’t expect to come face to face with it at the school gates.
‘Molly and Pat Donovan were out for a walk and found her yesterday morning. She’s been identified by her parents.’ Art continued. ‘There’s no doubt I’m afraid.’
‘I can’t take it in. That poor girl and her parents. God help them.’ Sarah said tears glistening in her eyes.
Art moved towards Sarah and reached over to touch her hand, before he continued, ‘She didn’t turn in for work this morning. Which I thought in itself was strange. She’s never off sick, extremely diligent. When she didn’t call in I phoned her and got no answer. Her parents were at the hospital when I called, identifying her body.’ He finished.
Sarah looked around, there were groups of parents all gathered together, some crying, all looking completely shocked.
‘I can’t believe it, Sarah. She was only twenty four, beautiful, her whole life ahead of her.’ Art finished. ‘I’m sorry. I just can’t get my head around it all. She was my friend.’
‘That’s understandable.’ Sarah said with sympathy, wiping her own tears and this time, she moved to him and gently patted his arm in reassurance. ‘Do the kids know?’ The thought of Tommy and Katie having to deal with this was unbearable to her.
‘Not yet. We’re going to have an assembly in the morning to talk to them all. But we wanted to give the parents the option of telling them at home tonight first of all. It might be better if they are with you when they hear of it. We’ll have counsellors in the school all day tomorrow, it’s all organised. They can help the kids talk through how they feel.’
She couldn’t take it in. A murder in her village and not only that, it was Katie’s teacher. This had to be the murder that Edward told her to prepare for. She needed to lean on Ella’s buggy for support once again.
When the kids came out she gave them both an extra big hug. ‘Come on you two, let’s go home.’ Pushing Ella in her buggy, the four of them set off. When they arrived at home, James’s car was outside the house.
‘Hey you guys!’ he shouted to them all. Tommy practically knocked him down as he jumped into his arms. He hero-worshipped his Uncle James.
‘You’ve heard?’ James asked quietly.
Sarah nodded and quickly glanced at the kids, letting James know that they didn’t know anything yet.
James squeezed his sister’s shoulder. ‘Come on, kids, let’s go in and grab some juice.’
Sarah went up to her bedroom to splash some water on her face. She needed to compose herself before she spoke to the children. How do you tell young children that their teacher has been murdered?
Looking into her bedroom mirror, she felt like she’d aged decades in the past month, but her reflection hadn’t changed. She still looked the same old Sarah, sandy blonde hair with blue eyes. Edward appeared in the mirror, standing right behind her. A few days ago this would have made her scream with fright. Now, she welcomed his calming presence.
‘So Rachel is the young woman you talked about?’ Sarah said to him. He nodded in response, the pain she felt reflected in his eyes.
‘You never said it would be someone I knew. She was only twenty-four for God’s sake, a mere child herself!’
‘I know.’ Edward replied.
‘Where was her guardian angel? Why didn’t they save her?’ Sarah hissed at Edward.
‘It doesn’t work like that. We can’t stop that kind of force. We can’t stop death. Her angel did her best to warn her. She tried to make Rachel listen to her intuition that something wasn’t right. But she ignored it. But I promise you she was with Rachel right up till she died. And she’s still watching over her now.’ Edward had tears in his eyes.
‘How can I tell Katie? She loved Ms Finch. She’s making her Holy Communion this year and Ms Finch was helping her prepare for it. She’ll be devastated. Only last night she was practising her Communion walk.’ Sarah smiled sadly at the memory. Katie with her hands clasped in prayer, walking solemnly from one end of the hall to other.
‘Give me strength Edward, help me tell the children.’ Sarah pleaded.
‘They will be fine, as long as they have you Sarah. I’ll be right here by your side. Always am and always will be.’
Sarah took a deep breath, trying to stop the tears from flowing that were prickling her eyes. ‘I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do to help. I don’t feel any different than I did a few days ago, except I can see and talk to you again.’
‘Just be prepared Sarah, take note of any strange things you can see in your mind’s eye. Trust your instincts because you have a great gift. You will see things that others won’t and I’m certain you will be able to help with Rachel Finch’s murder.’
Sarah thought for a second about the dreams she’d been having lately. Were they the start of her gift? They didn’t make any sense and she really couldn’t see how she was supposed to help based on what she had dreamt. But she didn’t have the time to look into it now. Her priority right this minute was her children. Only they weren’t just hers; she needed her husband more than ever right now.
She picked up her phone and quickly dialled Paul’s number. It went straight to voicemail. She took a deep breath and left a message.
‘I need you. The children need you. Please baby, call me. I’m begging you. Whatever is wrong, I can help make it better. Together we can get through anything. Remember? That’s what we always said. Once we are together, we can do anything. I love you…’ She hit end on the phone call quickly, before the tears overtook her. Lying down on their bed, she pulled the covers over herself, suddenly cold, her eyes never leaving the phone, willing it to ring.
James was making Spaghetti Bolognese for their dinner when Sarah came downstairs ten minutes later. Ella was in her highchair, swinging her dolly by its leg around in the air, giggling at how clever she was. Every now and then she’d let out a high pitched scream which resulted in everyone around her laughing. The children were watching SpongeBob on TV.
‘Thanks James. You are a starbar!’ She shouted to her brother, as she walked through the kitchen. ‘Thought you had a date tonight?’
‘I do, but I’ve cancelled. This is more important. When I heard on the grapevine that a schoolteacher from here had been murdered, I thought I’d better get here quick.’
‘This is losing-my-fecking-mind-freaky.’
James nodded in return. He knew the feeling; he felt the exact same way.
‘You know when Art first told me about Rachel, I got such a shock I didn’t think about Edward’s prophecy at all. And then it struck me and I nearly passed out. It was one thing having Edward telling me something would happen, but to actually be faced with it, it’s too much.
James squeezed his sister’s hand. He didn’t know what to say.
‘Try not to think about that yet.’ James said. ‘I was talking to one of the lads in Wexford Gardaí station and they will be doing an autopsy today, so we’ll know more after that. No word on forensics yet either.’
‘How’s her dog?’ Sarah asked.
‘What dog?’ James answered in surprise.
‘I don’t know.’ Sarah answered looking confused. ‘A dog just popped into my mind. He looked pretty sick. I think he was Rachel’s dog.’
They were both silent for a few minutes.
‘Ok. It’s going to take a while for me to get used to this.’ James said quietly. ‘I’m going to call my mate in the station and see if there was a dog.’ He punched a number into his iPhone and walked away.
A few minutes later he was back. ‘Well, there was a dog.’ He said with his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
‘Oh feck.’ Sarah said.
‘Yep, feck.’ He echoed.
‘All I know so far about the murder is that she was on Ballyaislinn beach. The fact that her dog was with her indicates to me that she was taking him for a walk probably. Whether it was a random act of violence or premeditated they don’t know yet. Remember Roger, my mate from school, the guard? Well he’s on the case and will keep me posted.’
‘You never said how the dog was?’ Sarah asked again.
‘He died a few hours ago.’
They both were silent again.
The sound of the Bolognese sauce bubbling broke the silence. ‘Oh, you doing a Jamie Oliver?’ Sarah said nodding at James and the chopping board.
James bowed as he answered, ‘But of course. No chance of a bit of parmesan lurking in that fridge of yours?’ James answered. ‘Then I’d really pep this baby up for you!’
‘Not a hope!’ Sarah responded. ‘Cutbacks, its only essentials these days, no luxuries.’
‘Thing’s that tight?’ James said with a frown.
‘Yep, things are “squeezed into a pair of too small spanx” tight. I’ve been going through my savings like crazy, what little we have anyhow. Tommy and Katie both outgrew their trainers this week. And it’s coming into winter again, they’ll be needing boots. They both were asking me about Halloween costumes yesterday. All their friends are getting new ones from Woodies apparently. I went in to have a look this morning, but they’re nearly €30 each. I just can’t afford it. Then next thing it’s going to be Santa. It never ends. I’ve asked for more shifts at the boutique, hopefully I’ll get a few more for Christmas.’ Looking at James face, Sarah felt guilty suddenly. ‘You don’t need to be listening to me moaning about money. Ignore me. I’ll make it work.’
‘You can’t keep going like this. You need to track Paul down. Or let me do it for you, I can do some digging, find out where he is. It’s just not good enough him sending you the odd email telling you he needs time to sort himself out. He’s got responsibilities. He had enough wits about him to empty your bank account, he’s not that bad.’ James ended sarcastically.
‘I’ve got to go talk to the children.’ Sarah said, ignoring James last comment, because she knew he was right. No matter how much she tried to rationalise Paul’s behaviour, the fact that he took most of their money with him, made her break out in a cold sweat of fear.
‘You can’t keep dodging that bullet,’ James shouted at her as she walked into the living room. She stuck her tongue out at him. She knew she had to face up to the fact that her husband had walked out on her, but there was a bigger crisis to deal with. Taking a deep breath she turned the TV off.
‘Tommy, Katie, I need to have a chat with you.’
‘I didn’t do anything!’ Katie quickly shouted.
‘I know, nobody is in trouble!’ Sarah reassured them gently.
Gathering the kids both close to her, she gently told them that Ms Finch had been hurt badly and was now in heaven. They were both confused and scared. They’d not really had to deal with a death before; this was a first for them. And Sarah knew that there was little point in lying about how it had happened, as they would get all sorts of stories in the school yard tomorrow. She needed to prepare them for some of the things that they might hear.
‘Who hurt her?’ Tommy wanted to know.
‘Will he come and hurt us too?’ Katie added, her big eyes round with fright.
‘No, darling, nobody is going to hurt any of us. The guards will find the person who did this to Ms Finch and they will be locked up for a very long time.’ Sarah replied firmly, pulling them in even closer to her.
‘Uncle James will catch the bad person.’ Tommy said quickly. He really believed that his Uncle was a superhero.
‘Maybe, or one of Uncle James’s friends in the Gardaí. Don’t you worry; they will catch whoever did this. Bad people go to jail for a very long time, and that’s where the person who did this will go.’ Sarah promised.
‘Mammy does that mean I won’t have a teacher anymore?’ Katie asked with big tears in her eyes. ‘Do I have to stay at home now forever, and never go to school again?’
‘No, darling. Of course not. You will have a new teacher soon. I bet that one has already been picked especially for you and your class. Mr O’Leary will explain it all tomorrow when you have assembly.’
‘But who will help me make my Communion? Ms Finch said she had lots to teach us this year.’ Katie started to cry and within seconds Tommy joined in. Sarah held them close and let them stay there crying their pain out. James was in the doorway rubbing his eyes with a tea towel.
‘Onions.’ He said gruffly, not wanting to admit that the scene before him had deeply moved him.
Ella, who had up to that moment been intently playing with two plastic balls, sensed that something was going on and wanted to get in on the act. So she started to scream. James walked over to her and picked her up, quickly laying her on the floor, tickling her and blowing bubbles on her tummy. This trick always worked and very quickly she replaced her tears with giggles. The sound of Ella’s giggling was too irresistible for Katie and Tommy and both of them peeped up from their mother’s embrace, watching their Uncle James tickle their baby sister. Sniffing away her tears, Katie wandered over to join in the tickling, Tommy following within seconds. And with that the house was filled with the sound of giggles again as James tickled each of the children one by one.
Sarah smiled through her own tears and watched her family, marvelling at how resilient children were. Their world can be pulled apart in a snap of the fingers, but they just picked themselves up and found joy in their baby sister’s laughter in the next. They weren’t moping about like she had been for the past couple of weeks since Paul had left. She could learn a lot from her children.
The time had come to find her husband. Yes, he was having some kind of mental health crisis. But by walking out of their life, he had in effect given up on his parental responsibilities. He didn’t have the right to walk away from those or indeed his financial responsibilities too without at least a conversation about it all. He’d only sent a couple of hundred euros that he supposedly sent via his mother about a week after he left. Only Sarah felt it was a safe bet that Rita had used her pension to give her that money, out of embarrassment for her wayward son.
Watching her children deal with yet another blow, she realised that it was time she regained control of her life that had been spiralling out of control these past few weeks. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looking up saw it was Edward.
‘Good girl,’ Edward said to her. ‘That’s the fighting spirit I remember when you were a child.’
Smiling, she vowed that tomorrow she would start her search for Paul. But right now there was a tickle fight to be won!
Chapter Six
Sarah woke with a start, her heart thumping so hard she felt like it was going to burst through her chest. She’d just had the weirdest dream about her postman Joey. If she had to guess all day who she might dream about, she didn’t think that Joey would have ever been on her list. He had been her postman for years and although she saw him most mornings through her sitting room window, she only spoke to him the odd time, when a parcel or registered letter would arrive. She really didn’t know anything about him on any level, other than he was punctual and very kind to the children if they did get to speak to him. Joey was in his mid-fifties she reckoned, and had a really pleasant manner. Always cheerful and if the children were around, he had a little joke or story to tell them. Sarah instinctively liked him, but if she was honest, other than when he came to her door delivering, he would never cross her mind from one day to the next.
Sarah shivered at just the mere memory of the dream.
The desperation. The poor man fumbling with a rope. A noose.
It was so vivid it felt real. But that was ridiculous, surely? She closed her eyes and tried to remember the details of the dream. Maybe it had happened in his house? She had no clue as to why he had done it, but she had felt an overwhelming wave of sadness and despair. It was incredibly unnerving.
A thought popped into her head, maybe she was losing it, and maybe she was really going mad this time. Was she having a nervous breakdown of some sort? First seeing angels and now dreaming of her postman’s suicide. She barely knew him, for goodness sake.
She looked at her mobile phone, it was 6am. Damn it, it was early but at the same time too late to go back to sleep. She crept into Ella’s nursery and straightened her up. She was as always scrunched up against the corner of the cot, blankets awry. She then peeped in at Tommy and Katie and they were both peaceful. They had to be tired because it had taken her a long time to get them to sleep last night. They were scared, worried that the ‘bad man’ who murdered Ms Finch might somehow come into their house and kill them.
James was asleep on their sofa. It was the only way that they agreed to go to bed, knowing that he was there keeping guard. He had left shortly after she told the kids about Rachel Finch, to go into the office. She wasn’t sure what time he came home at, but she figured it was late as she had only gone to bed a little after 2am. She went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Coffee was badly needed.
She knew that she drank too much of it, but it was a habit that she found impossible to break. She sat down at the kitchen table and looked out her window. It was beautiful out there, a gentle light mist hovering over the hills and trees. She had the most amazing view from her kitchen; she still got pleasure from it even though she’d looked at the same view every day for over eight years.
Memories of loud family breakfasts popped into her mind.
Paul and her laughing together at something funny Tommy or Katie had said. Stealing a kiss in between the demands of ‘pour me a juice!’ from the children. And laughter, always laughter. She tried to pinpoint when it was that Paul had stopped having breakfast with them. Last year? Two years ago? He now favoured grabbing a latte and croissant each morning in a deli close to his office. Once again she started to feel panic bubble up inside her as the realisation that her marriage had been in trouble for some time hit her smack in her face.
Sighing, she closed her mind to Paul because she had to. And try as she might, she just couldn’t stop her mind drifting back to Joey. She shuddered as she remembered how he’d looked as he kicked the chair from under his feet and allowed himself to drop. He was a man who had just given up and looked so lost. She tried to think of the right word to describe what she had witnessed.
‘Sorrowful.’ She said out loud. Yes, that was the word alright. Joey was sorrowful.
How awful to think that the only option you felt you had was to end your life? Sarah wrapped her dressing gown around herself even more tightly, feeling cold again.
Taking a sip from her coffee, she suddenly felt a presence beside her. Sitting opposite her was Edward. ‘You’re up early, Sarah.’
‘I couldn’t sleep.’ Sarah answered. ‘Bad dream. I’ve been getting a few of them lately.’
He nodded not looking in the slightest bit surprised to hear that. ‘Tell me about it.’ He replied.
‘Why?’ Sarah said belligerently. She really wasn’t in the mood for an evasive and unsatisfactory conversation with Edward. It was early, she was cold, and she couldn’t justify putting the heating on just yet. She had just paid €500 for a full tank of oil and she really needed that to last till Christmas. Pulling her dressing gown tight around her once more, she felt an urge to stick her tongue out at Edward, like she used to do as a child.
Instead she answered him. ‘Ok, Ok, you want to know about my dream? Well, it was about my postman. He committed suicide, hung himself. Now you know, does that make you happy?’ She shivered again, though this time not with the cold.
‘No, that makes me feel sad, Sarah. What do you think it means?’ Edward said.
‘It means that maybe I need to stop eating cheese before I go to bed.’ Sarah answered glibly. Edward smiled again. ‘Funny. Sarah, why do you think you dreamt that Joey committed suicide?’
Sarah shrugged. She really didn’t want to think about it. But try as she could, Joey’s face as he finally realised he was about to die was imprinted in her brain and wouldn’t leave.
‘You obviously know what it means.’ Sarah said to him. ‘So can’t you just tell me?’
Edward smiled that same smile again; it was beginning to drive Sarah mad. She recognised it, as it was the one she used herself on the children when they were desperately trying to learn something new, but failing miserably, it was the indulgent smile of a smug parent. Right now it irritated the shit out of her.
She hated mornings, more importantly she hated early mornings, disturbed by psychic dreams and early cups of coffees with angels. She felt justified in her bad mood.
‘Totally justified.’ Edward said smiling that annoying smile again.
‘How do you do that?’ Sarah demanded crossly. He had always been able to read her mind. When she was a child she’d play a game with him and get him to say out loud the thing she was thinking about. She’d loved that game and played it for hours, much to James’s annoyance, when he wanted her to go outside and play. She realised she was now smiling, at the memory.
‘It wasn’t all bad when I was around?’ Edward asked, this time an earnest look on his face.
‘No Edward. It wasn’t all bad at all. In fact I had some great times with you. It was the stuff that came after I told Mam and Daddy about you that wasn’t fun.’
‘They just didn’t understand, Sarah. And when people don’t understand something they get scared. And when people are scared they can act irrationally.’
‘Maybe.’ Sarah said noncommittally. She had children herself now and often asked herself how she would handle something similar. And she knew that no matter what she would be on their side. She had made that vow the day she found out that she was expecting Tommy. She had promised her unborn child that she would do better than her parents had done for her.
‘I get that they were scared. I get that they didn’t understand. But they didn’t try very hard. They didn’t talk to me or more importantly, they didn’t listen to me.’ Sarah said with regret.
Edward nodded.
‘I’ve thought a lot about this, Edward, in particular since I’ve had children of my own. All a child wants is to be loved, to feel loved and safe. When Tommy was a small baby, Paul and I used to sit for hours watching him sleep. And we would worry about his future. We’d talk about everything we could do to protect him from the bad stuff life can throw at you! I always said to Paul, that it was our duty to not only love our children, but to also make sure that they know they have a safe place to fall if they need to. Paul had that with his parents, he was lucky, but I didn’t. I still don’t. They couldn’t handle the fact that their daughter was different. So they tried to force me to change who I was. I mean what kind of parent has their child committed for fecks sake?’
Sarah shuddered as she remembered that bleak time in her life.
‘I’ll never forget that day. I was terrified. I begged them to take me home. Poor James was in tears too. He was devastated that I was taken from him. We’d never been apart until that day.’
Sarah closed her eyes, hoping that by doing so she could close her mind to the bad memory.
‘They found it easier to believe you were crazy, than to believe that you could talk to angels Sarah. They made a mistake, but for what it’s worth, they have never forgiven themselves for doing that to you.’ Edward replied.
Sarah shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure I buy that. They’ve always been so cold towards me. They treat me very differently to how they treat James. Him, he’s the golden boy. Me, I’m the mad daughter that they are so ashamed of.’
‘It’s complicated Sarah. For some people, when they have guilt, they put a barrier up around themselves rather than to confront the guilt and accept responsibility for their own mistakes. Have you ever considered that maybe your parents find it hard to look at you sometimes because it reminds them of a time they are ashamed of?’ Edward asked gently.
Sarah knew that what Edward said had an element of truth to it. She felt their guilt sometimes when she was with them. They could hardly look her in the eye when they visited, the annual, once a year visit that is. You’d swear they lived a million miles away, not less than ten miles. But she didn’t have time to analyse her parents right now. The dream, try as she may to forget it, meant something.
‘Ok, so is my gift to dream about things that have already happened or are about to happen? Sarah asked him.
‘You know the answer to that already.’ Edward replied.
‘No, I don’t.’ Sarah said stubbornly.
‘Think, Sarah; remember the details of your dream. You have all the answers you need yourself.’
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to relive her dream.
Joey sits at a table. In a kitchen by the looks of it. Oak kitchen cabinets are behind him. He walks to the fridge, opens the door and takes out some milk. There’s something on the fridge door. It’s a flyer advertising a table quiz at Freddie’s Bar. The date is the 15th October. Joey pours himself a glass of milk. He sits down again at the table, his head in his arms. A copy of the local newspaper - The Wexford Echo, dated 16th October.
