The Secret Place (Dublin Murder Squad, #5)(136)

‘She’s grand.’

‘Come here,’ Mackey said. Beckoned. Waited.

In the end I moved in.

He cupped a hand round the back of my neck. Gentle. Intent blue eyes, inches from mine. ‘If you’re right,’ he said – no threat there, not scaring me, just telling me – ‘I’m going to kill you.’

He gave the back of my head a double pat. Smiled. Moved off, into the high-arched dark of the hall.

That was when I realised: Mackey thought all of this was his fault. He thought he had put today in Holly’s blood. Mackey thought I was right.





Chapter 22


Monday morning, early, the bus grinding through traffic in stops and starts. Chris Harper has three weeks and less than four days left to live.

Julia is at the back of the half-empty top deck, with her ankles bent around her holdall at uncomfortable angles and her science homework on her lap. She spent the weekend banging her head against what to do about Chris and Selena. Her main instinct is to grab hold of Selena, probably literally, and ask her what the f*ck she thinks she’s doing; but some other instinct, further back and twisting restlessly, tells her that the moment she says this out loud – to Selena, or to Holly or Becca – nothing will ever be the same again. She can smell the poison smoke as everything they’ve got roars into flame. So she ended up getting nowhere with that and nowhere with homework, and this week is starting off to be a total peach all round. Rain streaks down the bus windows, the driver has turned the heat up to a million and everything is covered in a clammy film of condensation.

Julia is scribbling fast, something about photosynthesis, with one eye on her textbook and one on her barely-reworded page, when she feels someone standing in the aisle looking down at her. It’s Gemma Harding.

Gemma lives like four houses from the bus stop, but Daddy always drops her to school on Monday morning, in his black Porsche that takes half an hour to turn in the narrow school drive. Everything factors into the pecking order: Porsche beats most cars, any car beats bus. If Gemma’s on OMG public transport, there’s a reason.

Julia rolls her eyes. ‘Selena hasn’t been anywhere near Chris. ’Kthanksbye.’ She sticks her head back in her textbook.

Gemma dumps her weekend bag on the next seat and slides in next to Julia. She’s wet, raindrops sparkling on her coat. ‘This bus stinks,’ she says, wrinkling her nose.

It does: sweat-marinated raincoats, steaming. ‘So get off and call Daddy to come save you. Please.’

Gemma ignores that. She says, ‘Did you know Joanne used to be going out with Chris?’

Julia gives her the eyebrow. ‘Yeah. As if.’

‘She was. For like two months. Back before Christmas.’

‘If she’d managed to get Chris Harper, she’d have had it tattooed across her face.’

‘He didn’t want them to tell anyone. Which should’ve tipped Joanne off – like, hello? But Chris kept giving her loads about how he was scared because he’d never felt this way about anyone before, and his feelings were so strong—’

Julia snorts.

‘I know, right? I don’t know what kind of TV he watches, but, like, barf? I said it to Joanne: the only reason a guy doesn’t want to tell people is either because you’re a swamp-monster and he’s ashamed of you, which Joanne completely isn’t, or else because he’s keeping his options open.’

Julia closes her book, but she keeps it on her lap. ‘So?’ she says.

‘So Joanne was all, “OhmyGod, Gemma, you are so cynical, what is wrong with you, are you jealous or something?” Chris had her completely convinced this was some huge romance.’

Julia mimes puking. A couple of Colm’s guys, up towards the front of the bus, are turning around to look at them, grinning and talking louder and shouldering each other. Gemma doesn’t smile back, or do that annoying thing where she pretends to ignore them and sticks her boobs out; instead she rolls her eyes and lowers her voice.

‘Like, she was starting to wonder if he was the love of her life. She kept talking about how someday she could tell their kids how they used to sneak away for these little secret meetings.’

‘Adorable,’ Julia says. ‘So how come she’s not showing off her engagement ring?’

Gemma says flatly, ‘She wasn’t shagging him, so he dumped her. Not even face to face. One evening they were supposed to meet up in the park, and Chris just didn’t show up and didn’t answer his phone. She texted him like ten times, trying to figure out what happened – at first she thought he had to be in hospital or something. A couple of days later, we were down at the Court and he walked straight past us. Saw us and looked the other way.’

Julia stashes away the image of Joanne’s face, to enjoy later. ‘That’s shitty.’

‘Yeah, you think?’

‘How come she wouldn’t shag him?’ Julia’s never thought of Joanne as the save-it-for-marriage type.

‘Well, she was going to. She’s not frigid or anything. She was just holding off so he wouldn’t think she was a slut, and to make him more into her. She’d actually decided to go for it, she was just waiting for one of them to have a free gaff at the weekend – she wasn’t about to do it in the Field like some skanger. Only she hadn’t said that to Chris, because she wanted him on his toes. So he got sick of waiting and dumped her.’