Girl Unknown(55)

‘It was a slip of the tongue,’ I said, a little crossly. ‘Could one of you please pass me the milk?’

Holly stood up and left the room.

‘Forget it,’ I snapped, not in the mood for histrionics. I took my black coffee and left the table, going into the living room where I found my notes, just as I had left them the previous night, spread out on the desk. There was little point in going through them now, so I swept them into an untidy sheaf and stuffed them into my briefcase.

‘Are you all right?’

Caroline had come into the room behind me.

‘Fine,’ I said tersely.

‘You seem nervous.’

The anger jumped alive inside me. How dare she just swan in here, playing the attentive wife, when only the day before she had been texting an old lover?

‘Are you seeing him again?’

‘What?’ she asked, puzzled.

Not who? Because she knew who I meant. She knew exactly what I was talking about.

‘Well, are you?’

Comprehension flashed across her face, and I caught the movement behind her eyes – artifice, deceit, the realization she’d been caught out. I could see her thinking quickly about how to explain it away.

‘It’s not what you think,’ she began. ‘I bumped into him by accident at the trade show. I had no idea he would be there.’

‘So? How was it?’ I said, in a mean voice, standing straight in front of her, my arms crossed, making a show of outer strength and indignation. Inside, I was trembling.

‘David –’

‘Did you feel the spark again?’ This was a low blow. In one of our earliest arguments post-fling, Caroline had admitted to feeling a spark between herself and Aidan. I had latched on to it then, using it as a recurring motif in the rows that raged. To bring it up now was like touching alive an old sore. Caroline’s eyes briefly flared, but she chose to ignore it.

‘Zo? told you,’ she said flatly. Then, almost to herself: ‘I knew she would.’

I picked up my bag. ‘Yes, she told me. She also showed me her face.’

‘Her face?’

‘She said you shoved her up against a wall. Her cheek is a mess. I’m surprised she didn’t need stitches.’

Caroline didn’t say anything, just stood there gaping at me, open-mouthed, like a fish.

‘I’m going to be late,’ I said, moving past her to the door.

‘David, I didn’t push her.’ She came into the hall after me. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

The confusion on her face was annoying. It seemed over-dramatic. Fake.

‘Robbie!’ I called. ‘Let’s go.’

‘David, please. This is serious,’ Caroline said. ‘What kind of accusation has she made?’

Robbie was in the hall now, a slice of toast clamped between his teeth as he attempted to put on his jacket and school bag simultaneously.

She didn’t wish me luck and I didn’t kiss her goodbye, didn’t say goodbye at all, I just pulled the door shut behind us with force, felt the slam of it reverberating through the air as I hurried down the driveway to the car, where Robbie was already waiting.

The show’s producer had sent a brief outline of what the interview would entail and it had all seemed fair-minded and reasonable. Even though I had not prepared as much as I would have liked to, when I took my seat in front of the microphone, I felt there was nothing to be concerned about. Behind the studio’s internal window, I could see Robbie sitting alongside the producer. I gave him a wave and he smiled back.

The show’s presenter, Des Earley, introduced me to Sean Kelly, a local councillor, who was to give an opposing point of view. I hadn’t been informed of this, and thought it a bit haphazard and hastily arranged, but in hindsight I see more clearly what it was: a set-up, an ambush.

‘The 1916 centenary celebrations are fast approaching and figures leaked last week show an astonishing level of government overspend. Many are reading this as both a political stunt and a calculated measure to impress the populace in advance of a general election and thereby boost their votes,’ Earley said for his opening salvo.

Kelly piped up: ‘Buying votes!’

‘As a member of the expert advisory group, Dr Connolly, can you justify the kind of money that has been earmarked?’

‘Well, first of all I would say that those figures are not entirely accurate,’ I began, ‘and I couldn’t comment on something that isn’t official.’

‘Why not?’ Earley wanted to know. ‘After all, many people in Ireland think the amount of money being discussed is eye-watering. Surely it would be better spent on tackling the homelessness crisis or the problems in the health service rather than spending it on commemorating an event that is largely irrelevant today.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t agree that it’s irrelevant,’ I argued. ‘For many people, the 1916 Proclamation and the circumstances under which it was made …’

The words were coming out of my mouth, but they were somehow disconnected from my brain. I had a flash of memory to the night before and the words lovely mouth sprang up before me.

‘It’s all cant, isn’t it?’ Kelly was saying. ‘Why else would the Relatives Association have boycotted the launch of the plan?’