Ferguson laughs audibly.
“I’d say that alright.”
“But it seems she only flirted back to get served quicker.”
Ferguson continues to laugh.
“I bet.”
“Well, at the end of the night I got her number.”
“That it? Pfft, you must be one of the lucky ones.”
“Well, I might’ve gotten a quick kiss too.”
Ferguson rolls his eyes and smiles, the crinkles by his eyes prominent.
“That’s our Niamh, alright. Surprised you’re not tied up in her basement now.”
They share a laugh once more.
“Is she really that bad?” McNally grows concerned.
“Awk, naw,” Ferguson shuffles around in his seat to get more comfortable, “it’s just because we’ve been married for so long, and she’s still single. We make her out to be this Playboy bunny… But she’s had her fair share of boyfriends… Not to put you off.”
McNally nods. He was expecting this. You can’t date someone around the same age as you without the baggage of divorce, kids or a history. He realises he’s been feeling a mixture of guilt for Doherty, and partly feeling responsible for Jane and Ferguson’s fight. After all, if he hadn’t proposed going, maybe they wouldn’t have rowed. And maybe Doherty would still be alive…
“I’m sorry about last night, Ferguson.”
“You’re sorry, sir? … If anything it should be-“
“You don’t have to apologise. I crossed a line…”
They fall silent again. McNally turns to him with a smile.
“Are you two alright now?”
“Oh, aye,” he shrugs, “she just had a bit too much to drink… It hasn’t been easy for her, or for us… This job, I mean. But she knew what she signed up for. But…”
He sighs, rubbing his hands off the steering wheel, seemingly deep in thought.
“A few months back… Well, we received some bad news. Jane found out she had breast cancer. She’s fine-“ he holds up a hand as McNally goes to apologise, “she got the lump removed and thankfully things have progressed well without the need for chemo or anything. But it kind of… Put things into prospective, if anything… We barely made time for each other. Well, no… That isn’t fair. I didn’t make time for her. The stresses of the job, I mean… Well, I don’t need to tell you.”
He looks over to McNally with a smile on his face whilst McNally just nods along.
“Is that why you stepped down from the DI role?”
Ferguson blushes and looks at his lap before nodding, seemingly embarrassed and not knowing that McNally knew that. They’re saved by the trill of McNally’s phone again.
“It’s Fleming,” McNally informs his sergeant, before answering. “Hello?”
“Sir… We’ve found them.”
Chapter Seventy-Nine:
Fighting her way through the hordes of people in the kitchen, Danielle manages to reach the back door and escape outside. For some fresh air. And away from people. Away from them.
“Danni?”
Anger sears through her again as she turns. Chris, Ritchie and Steph have followed her through into the garden, Chris making sure to close the door behind them.
“Fuck off!”
She rounds the empty conservatory, seeking solace at the bottom of the garden, away from prying eyes of the kitchen and living room. Towards the back of the house where the only window facing her is that of the downstairs toilet.
“D, please, wait.”
Rounding on Ritchie, Danielle just continues to seethe with anger.
“Don’t you call me ‘D.’ You have no fucking right to call me that. You have fucking ignored me for the better part of four years, Ritchie. And now, what? Huh? Because our da’s body is found we supposedly have to be okay again? Civil to one another? No, fuck that. Let’s have it out, eh? You haven’t spoken to me in all these years because I kissed your friend.”
She jabs her finger towards Chris, who looks away uncomfortably.
“One kiss and you blew your lid. Well, it wasn’t just one kiss, wasn’t it not? We were a couple for over a year, for fuck sake. That’s plenty of time to get used to it. But, no. You fuckin’ disown me. Act like he’s never existed. Fuck off to Wales and forget about your friends here. Your family. And now, if all that isn’t enough, you go and fucking kiss my best friend the night before we bury our da? And why? Because you saw me and Chris getting closer again? For fuck sake, Ritchie, grow the fuck up. You’re 22-years-old. I’m not going to have you use my best friend for some sick mind game you’re playing.”
“It isn’t like that, Danni,” Steph steps forward, her hands raised as if Danielle is brandishing an explosive weapon.
“Oh, it isn’t? It’s not? Well what the fuck is it like, then? Huh? ‘Cause all I see is a pathetic little boy trying to get one up on his sister.”
“I came onto him, Danni.”
Danielle stares at Steph open mouthed. Is she seriously hearing this? And the night before her own father’s funeral? This is unbelievable. This is… Just… Wrong.
“We didn’t want you to find out this way. It started last night… I was comforting him and we… Well… We found each other,” she extends her hand and Ritchie takes it wistfully.
“And what was that? There now?” Danielle points towards the house. “Let’s have a quick shag on your granny’s fucking bed whilst your own mother is out having a panic attack in the living room, is that it?”
Ritchie and Steph shake their heads as Danielle starts to pace back and forth in the corner of the garden, all three of them facing her and blocking her every turn.
“No, Danielle, that’s not what happened,” Ritchie goes to step forward, before seeing his sister’s face and thinking better of it.
“He was upset,” Steph pleads with her, “we all were. Seeing your mum like that especially. She’s usually so strong. I was trying to calm him down.”
“What? By sticking your tongue down his throat? I’m sure that worked nicely,” Danielle growls.
Steph looks away embarrassedly.
“D, why don’t we go a walk? Calm down, and we can come back and talk then?” Chris inches forward.
“Oh, fuck off with your knight
