The Girl Who Lied(90)

‘I’m Garda O’Neill,’ says the first Guard sitting opposite me. ‘This is my colleague Garda Murphy.’

The female Guard acknowledges me with a slight nod of her head, but doesn’t speak.

‘Now, I understand you’re Sergeant Keane’s sister-in-law,’ says O’Neill. ‘He speaks very highly of you and assures me you will co-operate fully with us.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ I say, holding my hands in my lap. I wipe my palms with the tips of my fingers and concentrate on breathing normally.

‘I want to run through a few details, first,’ says O’Neill. He refers to a sheet Murphy passes to him. ‘You used to live in Rossway until ten years ago, when you moved to England to live with your sister. Is that right?’

‘That’s right,’ I say. ‘I’ve come back because my father is seriously ill in hospital.’

‘So I understand,’ says O’Neill. ‘I hope he makes a good recovery.’

‘Thank you.’

It’s surreal: having a civilised conversation with a stranger, all very polite, and yet at the heart of it I know this interview relates to Roisin and her disappearance.

‘You went to the local school and were friends with Roisin Marshall,’ says O’Neill. ‘When did you last have contact with Miss Marshall?’

I take a sip of water. My hand shakes as I lift the flimsy cup towards my mouth, something neither O’Neill nor Murphy will miss, I’m sure.

‘It was…’ I begin.

O’Neill interrupts before I can finish. ‘I should say at this stage, we have a copy of Roisin Marshall’s mobile phone. It lists all her calls, incoming and outgoing, together with sent and received text messages.’

I understand what he’s saying.

‘I sent Roisin a text the night before last,’ I say. I replace the cup on the table. My hand shakes even more.

‘That will be the night she went missing?’

‘Yes. I arranged to meet her, but she never showed up.’

‘What were you meeting her for?’

The female Guard stops making notes and is looking at me, anticipation shining behind her eyes. O’Neill leans forward. Both are clearly eager to hear what I have to say.

I say a silent prayer. I hope to God I’m doing the right thing.

‘We had a few things we needed to talk about.’

‘Such as?’

‘Personal stuff.’ I know it’s an insufficient answer, one I won’t get away with. If anything, I’m arousing suspicion.

‘We understand from some locals that you and Roisin had an argument in the street last week,’ says Murphy. ‘What was that about?’

My mouth is parched. I desperately want some more water but know my hand will shake violently if I attempt to reach for the cup. I wet my lips and swallow hard. ‘It was an argument from way back when I used to live here. I went out with her brother Niall. He died in a car accident and Roisin, for some reason, holds me responsible. It was about all that.’

‘So what were you meeting her for?’ asks O’Neill.

‘To try and sort things out once and for all.’

‘And where did you meet her?’

‘I didn’t meet her. I arranged to, but she never turned up,’ I say. ‘I was supposed to meet her at The Spit. I waited for ages but she wasn’t there and it was raining heavily so I went home.’

‘And what time was this?’ O’Neill’s tone sounds harder. I’m sure he doesn’t believe me.

‘I got there at nine o’clock and waited for ten, fifteen minutes.’

‘Can anyone confirm this?’ O’Neill asks as Murphy scribbles the information down on her notepad.

I shake my head. ‘No.’

‘You know, Miss Hurley, this is looking very much like you were the last person to have contact with Miss Marshall that night,’ says O’Neill. ‘Is there anything you would like to tell us? Anything that you may have forgotten or omitted?’

‘No. I’ve told you everything.’

‘I’m going to need you to make a formal statement,’ says O’Neill. ‘After that, I’d ask that you don’t leave the area for now. Not until we’ve made further inquiries.’

This time, I nod. I think of Mum, of Fiona and of the child I had.

I have no choice.

When I step out of the station, I’m relieved to see Kerry across the road. He’s sitting casually on his bike, smoking a cigarette. I walk over to him. On seeing me, he drops his cigarette and grinds it out with his boot.

‘They let you out, then?’ he says.

‘I could say the same for you,’ I reply with a smile.