“If that’s how you feel,” she turns her head away.
“That isn’t how I feel at all,” he reaches for her arm, but she pulls away from him, pressing herself against his passenger-side door, “but you’ve been givin’ me nothin’, D. I can’t begin to understand how hard this has been for ye, but ye can’t shut me out. Constantly tellin’ me that I want to break up with ye. Puttin’ words in my mouth. It isn’t fair, Danni… What’s really goin’ on? Is it ye that doesn’t want to be with me? You’re just projectin’ it onto me. Not wantin’ to be the bad guy?”
“How dare you accuse me of something like that?” Danielle spits, “my father is dead and I haven’t so much as-“
“Ye don’t know that.”
“Oh, grow up, Chris. Crunch on those eggshells you’re pottering around. He’s fucking dead, and he isn’t coming back.”
Silence falls once more.
“This isn’t about your da,” Chris picks his words carefully, “we’ve had problems before he… Went missin’.”
“Then just fucking break up with me then.”
Chris looks at her longingly, her hair tussled and spread across her wet face. He goes to push it behind her ear, and she just observes him, shaking slightly.
“Is that what ye really want?”
“Well, clearly it’s what yo-“
“Danielle!”
She jolts at his aggressiveness.
“Is it?”
She bites the bottom of her lip before nodding sullenly. He lets out a deep sigh before reaching for the gear stick to put the car in reverse.
“No, wait.”
She untangles herself from her coat and grabs hold of his hand. Ice cold. They look at each other for several seconds before she smiles at him with as much warmth as she can muster.
“Please… Can we just… Stay here a bit longer?”
Chris stares at her, before nodding and leaning back in his seat, their hands still resting on the gear stick. They both resume their attention to the windscreen, the lights winking and dancing across the River Foyle.
Chapter Seventy-Four:
2019
_____
Slamming the car door shut, McNally looks up at his parents’ bungalow in the Glen Crescent cul-de-sac of Portrush. So much has changed since he walked through that front door with his suitcase, ready for his new life in England the September he moved over for uni. Yet, the house looks the same, the street looks the same and the town basically looks the same.
The seaside town is known for its popularity during its summer months, Easter and renowned events like the North West 200, but lies dormant in other months. Perfect for pensioners like his parents who only want a bit of peace and quiet. Luckily, even with the excitement going on in the other months, they’re far enough from the town centre and beaches to avoid attraction.
Pottering through into the back garden, intent on surprising them, he sneaks forward as he sees the back door has been left open. The house is so small it can get very hot in the summer months. Scraping plates and muttering can be heard petering through it, so he gets on his haunches and slides over. As he stands, he looks in the kitchen window and pulls a funny face to a whoop of cheers.
“Liam! Ya boy ye, what are you doing here?”
McNally steps through into the kitchen to be embraced by his dad, who gives a gummy grin before leading him over to the kitchen table. The exterior of the house might look the same, but after McNally’s parents retired, his mum got to work on home improvements, forcing his dad to get off his arse. They redecorated the whole interior and even knocked the wall separating the kitchen and the dining room down to make one giant space.
This is where he sits now, getting Yorkshire puddings and beef thrown onto his plate as his mother hustles and bustles with the cooker, despite his protests. He looks across the table and smiles at his sister, Lindsay. He’s glad he’s made the detour up here after talking with Quigley. It might’ve been out of the way and it might just be for a short stay, but all Quigley said about family made him realise how much he neglected his own. The drive helped him digest what he was told, but he’s still confused and doesn’t know how to move forward. He’d tried giving Dawson a call for some advice, but he wasn’t answering his phone. Surely, a good home cooked meal should clear his head.
“How are you, son?” his dad beams at him once more, before scooping up a forkful of potatoes.
“Oh, same old, same old,” he rolls his eyes, cutting into a slice of meat, “just working away.”
“Are you on the Parker case?” his mum finally takes a seat beside him.
“I am, but I’m not discussing it. Sorry, you know I can’t, but I also want to forget about it for a moment. Stressing me out slightly.”
His mum taps him on the shoulder reassuringly as his dad nods, still diving his fork into his mash. Lindsay coughs and clinks the knife off her glass of milk for their attention.
“I was going to tell you both anyway,” she spreads her gaze between her parents, before resting it on her brother in the middle, “so I might as well say now before you have to scoot off somewhere. Well… I’m pregnant!”
All knives and forks hit the plates as the momentary silence subsides with the screeching of chairs. She’s pulled into a hug by both parents and McNally waits his turn, a huge grin on his face. Lindsay and her husband, Sean, live in the neighbouring town of Coleraine, just under a ten-minute drive from their parents. Sean is also a copper within the PSNI, so McNally and Sean had clicked instantly, despite him marrying McNally’s baby sister. McNally knows the couple were trying to get pregnant for some time, so the news brings tears
