“Everyone is looking well,” McNally’s eyes shine as he looks around at them all. “I’m so sorry to delay the inevitable, I’m sure it’s been a long time coming. But I’m afraid we have some more news…”
The family stare at them, transfixed. Their black suits making them look no different to the rest of the mourners, but somehow more elite with this new information they have hanging over their heads.
“Victor Sargent has been officially charged for the murder of your father, and we’re reassured that he will plead guilty in court.”
Danielle feels Ritchie’s eyes glaring into the side of her head, but still she ignores him. She won’t give away anything. Especially around the detectives. It’s too dangerous.
“Thank you for letting us know,” Nuala nods, before clipping over to the front door in her kitten heels, “the bastard has taken enough away from us, so we won’t let him take away bidding Aaron farewell. Care to join us?”
The detectives nod as they’re all led out to the hearse, Nuala standing at the door, ready to close it behind her and her children, before she stops Ritchie, who is avoiding her eye. She turns his head to make him look at her and smiles sweetly, tears collecting once more. Does she know? He narrows his eyes, as if being able to telepathically ask her, before she gives a subtle nod and pulls him in for a hug. What’s going on? She drags herself away and wipes her nose with a hankie, grabbing his hand and trying to slog him out. But he can’t move. It’s like he’s cemented to the spot.
He starts shaking uncontrollably, unable to breathe. His mum turns around, concerned, before reaching for him before he falls to the ground. Lying on the wooden floor in the hall, he tries desperately to catch his breath, ignoring his mum’s pleading and screaming. He’s aware of more people around him, overwhelming him, spilling in from outside. He needs to get up. He needs to go to his own father’s funeral. He needs to act like he’s in control.
But every fibre of his being is screaming at him to get out. Run. Don’t look back. Get away from these people who could easily convict him. They roll him over and he looks up at the light beating down on him from the skylight at the top of the stairs. Ignoring the faces sliding in and out of view, he focuses on the light as the darkness creeps in.
Epilogue:
Pulling up outside Steph’s house, I slam the door and hurry in from the rain. Wiping my feet on the door mat, I shout out that I’m home, but she must still be at work. I check my watch; she’ll be running late. Climbing the stairs, I strip off and hop into the shower, feeling the water crash over me. Only then do I allow my thoughts to overtake me.
What was I thinking? Visiting his grave… How would that make me feel any better? I didn’t even attend his funeral. I couldn’t bring myself to. I sat at home with DS Ferguson, who brought me too-sweet-tea and toast lathered in jam. Saying he’s funny with funerals too. That he laughed at his grandad’s dead body lying in the coffin when he was 16 years old. Trying to console me. Not having a clue what my main reasoning for missing his funeral was.
Everyone came back and tiptoed on eggshells around me. Even my friends were funny, staring at me like I was going to burst into flames at any moment. My sisters wouldn’t meet my eye. Neither would my mother. She bustled about, draining herself out by serving tea and biscuits, before Dermott forced her to take a seat beside Cathal, who was actually a nice guy. Sparking my guilt even more.
When I could finally bring myself to stand, I got up and packed a bag whilst I listened to the idle chatter downstairs. Sneaking out the back door, I marched around the side of the house, wondering what to do. I couldn’t go back to Cardiff. I had missed my flight back, and didn’t have the money to either buy a new one or even afford my rent over there. As I rounded the street, I saw a familiar face peering out of a VW Beetle. Rolling down the window, Steph peeked her head out and smiled at me.
She took me home that night. We cried and clung to each other. I didn’t tell her everything that happened. How could I? I used her… I still am, six months later. But I’ve made a better life for myself. She made me see a counsellor, got me set up with a job in her father’s business and has been letting me live here rent free. Her daddy bought her the house, so all she pays is bills. I try to buy the groceries as much as I can to show I’m grateful, but nothing I can do will ever be able to repay her for turning my life around.
Taylor was ultimately released without charge, despite unlawful imprisonment of Da. It seems with everything that went on outside the Crown, they were too afraid to take things further. Worried at the prospect of another civil war outbreak. Sargent, however, never made it to plead guilty in court. He died in police custody; that’s all the media could tell us. Of course, rumours circulated that he was attacked in jail by another inmate, but you don’t know who to believe. I haven’t been able to speak to Dermott to find out whether any of it is
