The Girl Who Lied(26)

‘Bring your man along too,’ says Bex. ‘We’d love to see you there. I’ll make sure Joe behaves himself, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

I try to smile confidently. I’m not quite sure how Bex is so perceptive. In a strange way, I find it reassuring. Maybe it would be a nice thing to do. ‘Okay, I’ll see how it goes,’ I say.

After Bex leaves, I find myself clock-watching. I’ve decided to confront Roisin and sort this business out once and for all. I don’t want it hanging over me any longer. I close up the café at four-thirty and spend the next half hour clearing things away and setting up for the next day.

Locking the door, I hurry round to the doctors’ surgery. The car park is virtually empty, except for a handful of cars, which I presume are staff vehicles. I spot a black Mini and something tells me it’s Roisin’s car. I wander over to it.

I don’t have to wait long before I see her emerge from around the corner. She has her head down, looking in her handbag. She pulls out a bunch of keys and looks up towards the Mini. I was right, it is her car.

Her step slows as she sees me. I remain leaning back against the car.

‘I hope you haven’t damaged the paintwork,’ she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and picking up her stride again. ‘Wouldn’t want to have to get Kerry to send you the bill for a respray.’

I wait until she reaches the car before I move off. ‘I thought I’d have heard from you by now,’ I say, ensuring there is no concern attached to the words.

‘Getting jittery, are you?’

‘Jittery? No. Not at all. More like bored.’

Roisin gives laugh. ‘Well, you should be,’ she says. ‘Getting jittery, that is.’

‘Over a photograph. I don’t think so.’ I’m holding my nerve so far in this game of brinkmanship.

‘Yes, but this isn’t any old photograph, is it? No, this is a very special photograph. One that my brother hid away because if anyone saw it and read what was on the back, then your sordid little secret would be out.’

The word ‘sordid’ is the trigger.

‘There was nothing sordid about me and Niall.’ I’m crowding her space, but she doesn’t flinch. ‘We loved each other.’

‘Oh, please. Do me a favour…and yourself.’ She takes a step closer. We are inches apart. ‘You were a couple of young teenagers. It was puppy love. Do you really think my brother was going to stay with you once he had gone off to university?’ Her smile, full of derision, turns to a sneer. ‘Did you really think getting pregnant on purpose was going to keep him?’

‘You’ve no idea what you’re talking about. What do you want, Roisin?’

The smile returns and her shoulders relax. She side-steps round to her car, blipping the remote to unlock the car. ‘Ah, now we’re getting to the point.’ Opening the door, she drops her bag onto the passenger seat, closes the door and turns to face me. ‘I want to know the truth about what happened to that baby.’

I wonder how much she knows and how much she is fishing for. I study her while I decide how to answer this.

‘There was no baby,’ I say, after a few seconds.

‘Well, you see, Erin, I don’t believe that. And I’m going to make it my business to prove it.’ She opens the door and slips into her seat, pausing with her hand on the handle. ‘By the way, I hope your dad recovers soon from his accident.’ She slams the door shut and starts the engine before I can react.

I bang on the glass. ‘What do you mean by that?’ She smiles, but says nothing, before driving off.

I’m left standing there, watching the car disappear out of the car park, leaving behind a foreboding, which settles around me like a shroud.

The next morning I’m up early and out for a run. I need to burn off the nervous energy that has been building inside me since I came back to Rossway. After the spat with Roisin last night, the reassurance that she can’t do anything to cause trouble evades me.

I breathe deeply as I jog onto the estuary footpath, towards the village, the fresh sea air fills my lungs, the saltiness of it settles on my lips. This is perhaps one of my happier memories of living in Rossway: the freshness, together with the seagulls squawking in the sky and the sound of the tidal river churning in and out of the estuary.

As I near the bike shop, I find myself looking up towards Kerry’s flat. I squint against the glare of the morning sun, realising someone is at the window. It’s Kerry.

He has obviously seen me as he puts his hand up. I jog on the spot, not quite sure whether he is trying to get my attention or just waving. Kerry opens the window and leans out.