‘I need to speak to you about something.’ She looked at the room full of people. ‘Do you have somewhere private?’92

Jenny led her across the hall to one of the empty viewing rooms, the table set up in the middle. She offered Orla one of the leather armchairs but the woman shook her head.

‘I like to stand.’

Jenny waited.

‘This is a bit weird,’ Orla said eventually.

‘It’s a hard time,’ Jenny said.

Orla shook her head. Jenny caught a whiff of acidic perfume.

‘I don’t mean that,’ Orla said, waving at the wake beyond the closed door. She rubbed at her brow, looked round the room for inspiration. ‘So you work for the family business?’

She was repeating herself, stalling.

‘Yes.’

‘Both parts?’

‘How do you mean?’

Orla pointed at the closed door again. ‘It said on the side entrance that you’re a private investigator’s as well as a funeral director’s.’

‘Yes.’

Orla looked at Jenny. ‘And you do that, the investigating, like?’

Jenny paused for a moment. ‘Sure.’

‘Then I have a case for you.’

‘What?’

‘That’s what you call it, a case? I have a job for a private investigator.’ She laughed, a self-mocking sound. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want to sit down?’

‘At a funeral,’ Orla said. ‘I mean, it’s disrespectful, isn’t it? But I don’t know if I’ll have the guts to come back another time.’

Jenny resisted the urge to tug at her blouse collar again, but she could feel the skin on her neck was raw. She thought of Gina’s neck, the marks from the belt that Archie covered up.

Orla touched her hair. ‘It’s such a fucking cliché.’ She rubbed at her elbow and breathed deeply. ‘I think my husband is cheating on me. 93Liam Hook. He’s through there right now, being all caring and sensitive, a shoulder to cry on. But he’s having an affair. I want you to get some evidence and when you do I’m going to divorce the bastard.’

‘What makes you think he’s cheating on you?’

Orla threw a stare at Jenny, eyes on fire. ‘You’re not wearing a ring, are you married?’

‘Divorced.’ Even after all this time the word felt shameful, an admission of defeat.

‘Why did you get divorced?’

‘He met someone else.’

Orla nodded. ‘So you know what I’m talking about. Did you realise he was cheating on you?’

How had this become about Jenny? ‘I had no clue.’

Orla’s eyebrows went up. ‘Wow, OK. He must be a fucking good liar.’

Jenny shrugged, looked away.

‘Liam is not a good liar,’ Orla said. ‘Says he’s working late, if you can believe it. But when I call the office he doesn’t pick up. On his mobile it doesn’t sound the same as the office, the acoustics are different.’