Himself(38)

‘But you spoke to her that day?’

‘I did, because it looked as if she’d been crying. She had this pinched-up look about her.’

‘Did she say why?’

‘She didn’t. I told her a few jokes to bring a smile to her face then I said, “Mind how you go now, Orla” and she nodded. I never saw her again but I often thought of her and hoped she was all right.’

‘So you didn’t take a walk up to the forest with her?’

‘Jesus, no, why would I? I was working; I had the post to deliver.’

Jimmy grabs a beer mat off the table and spins it. ‘I told you, I saw her outside the General Store, spoke to her for half a minute, tops, then I went on my merry way.’ Jimmy holds out his arms and turns in his chair. ‘I’ve a rake of witnesses to that.’

‘There were several sightings of you walking with Orla up towards the forest on the day she disappeared.’

Jimmy sneers and leans in close. ‘Speaking as a man of the world to another man of the world, I have my enemies.’ He whispers. ‘Envy is a terrible thing; there’s some that don’t like to see people get on in life.’ Jimmy gently pats his hairpiece, crosses his arms and levels an unconvincing smile at Mahony. The interview is as good as over.

‘He’s keeping something under his hairpiece, Mahony. Now you wouldn’t trust Jimmy Nylon as far as you could throw him, would you?’ Mrs Cauley takes a sip of her stout.

‘He’s a little shifty.’

‘He’s a little bastard, and a dirty one at that. Bridget Doosey once accused him of stealing knickers off her line. She would catch him eyeing her nether garments when he was up there on his rounds.’

‘Was there any evidence?’

‘Only that by the time he left the Post Office Bridget was down one brassiere and two drawers. She often had to go regimental.’

‘Jesus. I didn’t need that.’

Mrs Cauley grins into her pint. ‘You’re a great man for the moral decency, Mahony. I can’t imagine you stripping washing lines.’

He laughs.

Mrs Cauley looks him dead in the eye. ‘You’re a bang-straight gentleman, Mahony, under that profligate exterior. I know that, I know your heart is made of pure-gold honest-to-goodness bullion.’

Mahony catches her look. ‘What are you getting at?’

‘Shauna. I take it upon myself to look out for the girl. Since her mother ran away with a paying guest and her father ran away with the fairies. I consider her family.’

‘And?’

‘I give a shite, about the girl and about you. I don’t want either of you maimed by what some people call love and I call disaster.’

‘You’re telling me this because . . .’

‘Something happened up in the forest.’

‘She told you?’

‘She didn’t need to.’ Mrs Cauley looks at him. ‘You may have turned her head but it’s still screwed on.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Shauna wants a steady life, Mahony, she always has. You know, the husband and the children. She has these dreams of restoring the house; she has it all planned out.’

‘Fair balls to her, for knowing what she wants.’

‘You’re a good man, Mahony, but you have to ask yourself are you the right man for Shauna?’

‘Are we getting married? After all of five minutes?’

Mrs Cauley smiles. ‘Shauna’s the type to fall very deeply. She’s been stung before and badly. Young fellas, you see, will make all manner of promises for a quick rattle.’

‘What are you saying to me now?’

She pats his arm. ‘Just help the girl do what’s best for her, lad. That’s all.’

Mahony frowns.

She nods. ‘Grand so, will we have another pint?’

It’s still hammering down when they leave Kerrigan’s but once they get the wheelchair loaded in the back of the squad car it’s straightforward sliding Mrs Cauley into the back seat. She’s out like a light, breathing heavily through her open mouth. Mahony puts his jacket over her and checks that she’s still holding on to her damp wig.

‘She was on fine form tonight, God love her,’ says Jack Brophy, getting into the driving seat.

‘Thanks for the lift, Jack.’

‘Not at all.’

They drive in silence for a while.

Jack turns the wheel to avoid a bundle of sheep at the edge of the road. Mahony sees them, greasy clouds picked out by the headlamps. Then nothing but a darkening sky above the darker outline of the stone wall below.

‘Jack, how well do you know Jimmy Nylon?’

‘What’s he trying to sell you?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Then he’s a grand fella.’

They drive in silence, bumping through potholes. Jack turns the windscreen wipers up faster.

‘You know Tom, don’t you? Who lives up in the forest?’

It takes a while for Jack to answer. ‘I do.’

‘What’s he like?’

‘He’s had his troubles but he’s a peaceful soul.’

‘So he’s harmless?’ Mahony thinks about Ida’s toy, tucked away on a shelf in Tom’s filthy caravan.