The Lost Child (Detective Lottie Parker #3)(21)

‘How did Chloe do?’

‘Not too bad. Considering all that happened.’

‘What did happen?’

Did Annabelle live under a stone? Lottie thought everyone knew what had gone on last May in Ragmullin. Maybe she was being diplomatic.

‘It doesn’t matter. It’s all over now.’ Lottie rolled up the sleeves of her long-sleeved navy T-shirt. The kitchen was stifling.

Annabelle poured the tea and sat, expectantly.

It was a long time since they’d last spoken properly. But Lottie had lifted the phone earlier and called Annabelle. Swallowed her pride and everything else. She needed something more important than her damn pride.

‘Oh, how stupid of me,’ Annabelle gushed. ‘You’re a granny! Congratulations. Boy or girl?’

You know right well, Lottie thought. ‘A boy. Louis. He’s three weeks old. I worry about Katie, though. She’s not coping very well but she won’t let me help her.’

‘If she has post-natal depression, she needs to see her doctor. Or tell her to call in to me.’

‘I’m not sure she will, but I’ll try talking to her about it.’

Lottie knew Katie imagined that because she had turned twenty in August and was no longer a teenager, she now possessed special powers. But she didn’t want to get sidetracked about this with Annabelle. She would talk to Katie tonight.

‘You’re very quiet,’ Annabelle said. ‘What can I help you with?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Lottie began. ‘It’s so hot in here.’

‘Is it? I didn’t notice.’ Annabelle, her blonde hair hanging loose over her shoulders, wore a black polo-neck jumper and skin-tight blue jeans. Her knee-high leather boots finished the look. Lottie didn’t know whether to be jealous or suitably happy in her trusted old clothes.

‘How’s work?’ she asked.

‘Not as busy as it used to be. Not since the media publicised the fact that a brothel was being run from the building beside the surgery. Doesn’t matter that it disappeared in a flash.’

Lottie caught the knowing look from her friend. But she wasn’t about to admit anything. ‘Do you have milk?’ she asked.

Annabelle jumped up, fetched a jug from the refrigerator and sat down again. ‘How’s your mother?’ she asked.

Lottie paused, jug in hand, and stared at Annabelle. After a moment she said, ‘She’s fine. Why? Do you know something?’

‘I may be her doctor, but I’m just being polite.’

‘She’s fine.’ Lottie sipped her tea. Silence wrapped around them, broken only by the soft hum of music emanating from somewhere in the depths of the house. ‘Do you ever see Tom Rickard?’ she said, her voice a whisper.

‘No… Why would you ask that?’ Annabelle had also dropped her voice and looked around furtively before getting up to close the door leading to the hallway. ‘Jesus, what’s got into you, Lottie? I haven’t seen you for months, and then you come into my home asking about my former lover. Things are bad enough. Give me a break.’ Her words swished through clenched teeth.

‘Ease up. I was only wondering. You know his son was Katie’s boyfriend, and therefore Tom is the baby’s grandad.’

‘I may be blonde, but I’m not stupid.’

‘I think he needs to know about Louis,’ Lottie said.

‘Last I heard, Tom had moved abroad, and I’ve no idea where Melanie is.’

‘That figures. I drove by their house once or twice and saw the For Sale sign. But I didn’t think they’d left the country.’

‘Surely you could have snooped around a few databases and found out where they’d gone?’

‘Thought I’d ask you first.’

Annabelle threw back her head and laughed. ‘You’re so weird, Lottie. God, I’ve missed you. More tea?’

‘No thanks.’ Lottie clutched the mug with both hands. ‘There was something else I wanted to ask.’

‘Fire ahead.’

Before she could say another word, the door burst open.

‘Somebody’s left footprints on the hall floor, and I thought I told you not to close… Oh, I didn’t know you had a visitor.’

‘Sorry,’ Annabelle said, picking up a tea towel. ‘Lottie must have closed it when she came in.’ She wiped the perfectly clean counter.

Lottie stood up. ‘Hi, Cian. I’m just leaving.’

Cian O’Shea, at six foot three, had to duck his head under the ornate lighting arrangement hanging from the ceiling. He held out his hand and shook Lottie’s in a crisp, hard shake, then brushed her cheek with his lips.

‘Long time no see,’ he said. ‘What brings you here?’

‘Just popped in for a chat.’ She thought his eyes looked a lot darker than she remembered, with circles of blue-grey around them.

‘Well, it’s nice to see you,’ he said.

Lottie doubted the sincerity of his words. It was the way he looked at her when he said them. She glanced at Annabelle, frozen, cloth in hand, watching Cian watching her. Bizarre.

‘Don’t let me disturb your chinwag.’ He turned on his brown leather loafers and took himself out of the kitchen and back up the stairs, leaving the door wide open.