“Well done, Linds.”
She smiles up at him and blinks back her own tears, before they all retake their seats and turn their attention to the next few months, food abandoned. This is what he needed. Despite living back in Northern Ireland for several weeks, he’d barely had a chance to make it up as often as he’d liked. He needs to try more, it’s only up the road. It’s simple things like having dinner with his family that go amiss in the loneliness of his own house. Only when McNally’s phone goes half an hour later, to the groan of his family, does he realise that he still has a full plate. He excuses himself and steps outside, biting into a slab of beef he was able to pinch on the way out.
“Ferguson?”
“Sir, where are you?”
He looks around the back garden, before turning back around to see his mum pulling his sister in for another hug.
“I’ll be back soon.”
“Quick, sir. It’s urgent. You’re going to want to see this.”
Chapter Seventy-Five:
“How’s Dave?”
Georgia aims the question towards Chris, who stops tickling a squealing William long enough to look up at her.
“He’s fine. Well… As fine as he can be, given the circumstances. I don’t think he’s in pain any longer. Obviously, he sends his condolences, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to come here. With everythin’ that’s happened… And I doubt we’ll see much more of him anytime soon, to be honest. When I visited him in hospital, he wasn’t too happy. Wanted rid of me. Think he’s embarrassed more than anythin’. Had to lie and text me whilst I sat in the chair beside him. It was sort of heart-breakin’ to be honest…”
Danielle moans sympathetically, grabbing hold of Chris’s hand resting on his knee and tells him she completely understands. All the girls notice this and give each other awkward glances, pursed lips and raised brows. As William runs away, requesting for Uncle C to catch him, Georgia sighs before Chris pats her on the shoulder, stating that it’s ‘no bother.’ As he thunders off after a laughing William, Travis turns to join in the conversation with Ritchie and Jase on the next sofa and the girls collect their heads together, Danielle eyeing them suspiciously before leaning forward.
“So, Danni… What’s the craic with you and Chris?” Georgia gives her a condescending look.
Danielle blushes, retreating her head again, observing Ritchie, but he’s lost in a story, his hands flying about rapidly.
“I don’t know…”
“You seem to be getting closer,” Steph comments.
“We are… And we kissed earlier today.”
Katie and Abbie ‘whoop’ girlishly, before all of them laugh, Danielle hushing them whilst still keeping one eye on her brother.
“We’re just taking things slow… I mean, I’ll probably be going back to Newcastle in a few weeks… Days, maybe. Do I really want a long-distance relationship? And what if nothing has changed? I mean, it’s been nice having him around again… It’s familiar-“
“What about the guy you work with over at uni though?” Steph narrows her eyes.
“Who?” Abbie gasps, “you kept that quiet, you wee slag.”
Danielle gasps and mocks fanning her face, another explosion of laughter coming from them, making the boys look over charily.
“It was just a couple of dates… Nothing happened,” she licks her lips, “anyway, let’s be quiet about this. Ritchie and I are only starting to get on good terms again, let’s not ruin it.”
Everyone nods as the doorbell goes, Ritchie jumping up, shouting that he’ll get it. Crossing the hall, he opens the door and his mouth falls open. There, standing on their welcome mat, gleefully leering up at him, is Darrell Boyle.
“Hi, son.”
He goes to move forward, but Ritchie doesn’t flinch. He just continues to stand there, hatred in his eyes and his face turning into a snarl.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Now, now. Is that any way to treat a guest?” he chuckles.
“You’re no guest of ours.”
“Well, I’m just here to pay my respects. I’m sure your father wouldn’t approve of you acting this way…”
“You’re not getting through this door.”
“Honey, who’s-“
Nuala steps out of the kitchen now, an apron wrapped around her front. Seeing the widow, Boyle’s eyes shine brighter and his toothy smile spreads wider.
“So sorry for your loss, Mrs Parker.”
Nuala marches over and slaps him across the face, her hands still wet from doing the dishes.
“Ma, no!”
Ritchie grabs his mum before she does any more damage. Boyle has already taken a few steps backwards, stunned at her reaction, raising a hand to his cheek, which is already reddening.
“Get the fuck off my property!” Nuala screeches, before reaching for the door and slamming it in his rodent-like face.
Chapter Seventy-Six:
As Ferguson continues to struggle to speed up the steep Lawrence Hill, McNally shakes his head as he rewatches the CCTV footage on his phone. How can they be so conceited? In broad daylight too. He observes the car slamming the brakes at the very peak of the Foyle Bridge, making the car following too closely behind them to swerve into the right lane to avoid a collision. Three men with their faces obstructed by masks and scarves clamber out before pulling a topless man from the boot. The man writhes around aimlessly before the men place him on top of the railings and push him off as if they were unrolling a carpet.
He rewinds the man disappearing from view several times. From way up there, the bridge’s highest point, it would be like hitting cement when you reach the water. The Foyle Search and Rescue are out patrolling now regardless. The tech team had been able to highlight and sharpen the image, but McNally knew who it was right away. Smyth, or his recently revealed real name Kevin Doherty, had plummeted to his death. Of course, they’d checked the number plate, the vehicle reported stolen that morning, and had trouble tracking the car as it disappeared into the republic. Presumably to be burnt out
