Faithful Place (Dublin Murder Squad, #3)(49)



I said, “Don’t you ever tell me I got off easy.”

Carmel was trying to look daggers at Shay, but he didn’t notice; his eyes were fixed on me. “Spoilt rotten, the whole bloody three of yous. You think you had it bad? That’s because we made sure you never found out what bad was like.”

“If you want to go ask the barman for a tape measure,” I said, “we can compare scar sizes, or dick sizes, or whatever the hell has your knickers in a knot. Otherwise, we’ll have a much nicer night if you keep the martyr complex on your own side of the table and don’t try to tell me what my life’s been like.”

“Cute. You always did think you were smarter than the rest of us, didn’t you?”

“Only than you, sunshine. I just go with the evidence.”

“What makes you any smarter? Just because me and Carmel were out of school the second we turned sixteen? Did you think that was because we were too thick to stay?” Shay was leaning forward, hands clenched on the edge of the table, and there was a patchy fever-red flush coming up on his cheekbones. “It was so we’d be putting our wages on the table when Da wasn’t. So you could eat. So the three of you could buy your schoolbooks and your little uniforms and get your Leaving Certs.”

“Christ,” Kevin muttered, to his pint. “And he’s off.”

“Without me, you wouldn’t be a cop today. You’d be nothing. You thought I was just mouthing off when I said I’d die for family? I damn near did it. I lost my education. I gave up every chance I had.”

I raised one eyebrow. “Because otherwise you’d have been a college professor? Don’t give me the giggles. You lost bugger-all.”

“I’ll never know what I lost. What did you ever give up? What did this family ever take off you? Name me one thing. One.”

I said, “This f*cking family lost me Rosie Daly.”

Absolute, frozen silence. The others were all staring at me; Jackie had her glass raised and her mouth half open, caught in midsip. I realized, slowly, that I was on my feet, swaying a little, and that my voice had been right on the edge of a roar. I said, “Leaving school is nothing; a few slaps are nothing. I’d have taken all that, begged for it, sooner than lose Rosie. And she’s gone.”

Carmel said, in a flat stunned voice, “You think she left you because of us?”

I knew there was something wrong with what I had said, something that had shifted, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. As soon as I stood up, the booze had hit me right in the backs of the knees. I said, “What the hell do you think happened, Carmel? One day we were mad about each other, true love forever and ever, amen. We were going to get married. We had the tickets bought. I swear to God we would have done anything, Melly, anything, anything in this wide world to be together. The next day, the next bloody day, she ran off on me.”

The regulars were starting to glance over, conversations falling away, but I couldn’t get my voice back down. I always have the coolest head in any fight and the lowest blood-alcohol level in any pub. This evening was way off course, and it was much too late to salvage it. “What’s the only thing that changed in between? Da went on a bender and tried to break into the Dalys’ gaff at two in the morning, and then the whole classy bunch of yous had a screaming knock-down-drag-out row in the middle of the street. You remember that night, Melly. The whole Place remembers that night. Why wouldn’t Rosie back out, after that? Who wants that for in-laws? Who wants that kind of blood in her children?”

Carmel said, very quietly and still with no expression at all, “Is that why you never came home? Because you’ve thought that all this time?”

“If Da had been decent,” I said. “If he hadn’t been a drunk, or even if he’d just bothered to be discreet about it. If Ma hadn’t been Ma. If Shay hadn’t been in and out of trouble every day of the week. If we’d been different.”

Kevin said, bewildered, “But if Rosie didn’t go anywhere—”

I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying. The whole day had hit me, all of a sudden, and I was so exhausted that I felt like my legs were melting into the ratty carpet. I said, “Rosie dumped me because my family was a bunch of animals. And I don’t blame her.”

Jackie said, and I heard the hurt in her voice, “Ah, that’s not on, Francis. That’s not fair.”

Shay said, “Rosie Daly had no problems with me, pal. Trust me on that.”

He had himself back under control; he had eased back in his chair, and the red had faded off his cheekbones. It was the way he said it: that arrogant spark in his eyes, that lazy little smirk curving around the corners of his mouth. I said, “What are you talking about?”

“She was a lovely girl, was Rosie. Very friendly; very sociable, is that the word I’m after?”

I wasn’t tired any more. I said, “If you’re going to talk dirt about a girl who’s not here to fight her own corner, at least do it straight out, like a man. If you don’t have the guts to do that, then shut your gob.”

The barman brought down a glass on the bar with a bang. “Hey! Yous lot! That’ll do. Settle down now or you’re all barred.”

Shay said, “I’m only complimenting your taste. Great tits, great arse and a great attitude. She was a right little goer, wasn’t she? Zero to sixty in no time flat.”

Tana French's Books