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Back Ask No Questions
Chapters (69)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Prologue
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. Chapter Nine
  14. Chapter Ten
  15. Chapter Eleven
  16. Chapter Twelve
  17. Chapter Thirteen
  18. Chapter Fourteen
  19. Chapter Fifteen
  20. Chapter Sixteen
  21. Chapter Seventeen
  22. Chapter Eighteen
  23. Chapter Nineteen
  24. Chapter Twenty
  25. Chapter Twenty-One
  26. Chapter Twenty-Two
  27. Chapter Twenty-Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-Four
  29. Chapter Twenty-Five
  30. Chapter Twenty-Six
  31. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. Chapter Thirty-One
  36. Chapter Thirty-Two
  37. Chapter Thirty-Three
  38. Chapter Thirty-Four
  39. Chapter Thirty-Five
  40. Chapter Thirty-Six
  41. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  42. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  43. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  44. Chapter Forty
  45. Chapter Forty-One
  46. Chapter Forty-Two
  47. Chapter Forty-Three
  48. Chapter Forty-Four
  49. Chapter Forty-Five
  50. Chapter Forty-Six
  51. Chapter Forty-Seven
  52. Chapter Forty-Eight
  53. Chapter Forty-Nine
  54. Chapter Fifty
  55. Chapter Fifty-One
  56. Chapter Fifty-Two
  57. Chapter Fifty-Three
  58. Chapter Fifty-Four
  59. Chapter Fifty-Five
  60. Chapter Fifty-Six
  61. Epilogue
  62. Prologue
  63. Chapter One
  64. Acknowledgements
  65. Credits
  66. More from Claire Allan …
  67. About the Author
  68. Also by Claire Allan
  69. About the Publisher

Fuck, he thinks again. His jeans had been dirty, his face in need of a shave, and he was sure he didn’t smell the best when he had seen her. Ingrid fucking Devlin, looking beautiful. Her hair soft, her skin … he didn’t want to think about how soft her skin would feel. How good it would feel to touch her. Caress her. Fuck her.

He feels himself start to get hard. He’ll think about her later. When he’s in bed. When he can block out the feelings of shame at her seeing just what a disaster he’s made of his life. Practically begging her to buy him a cup of tea and a sausage roll. Has he no pride left?

He laughs, a short, harsh laugh. He hasn’t had pride in a long time. He has little to be proud of. Living alone, surviving fortnight to fortnight. Always intending to get a job. Never quite managing it. He’s not lazy, he tells himself. Declan Heaney is not afraid of hard work. He’s just broken. Troubled.

His life changed forever that day, twenty-five years ago. Shouldn’t he be over it now? He sucks on his cigarette again. But people keep reminding him of it. Even Ingrid fucking Devlin. He’d have given anything to have her notice him back at school. Here she is and that murder is all she is interested in. What he saw that day. Not who he is. Not his hopes or his struggles. Everything in his life has been framed by those moments on the banks of the rezzie.

Then again, his brother, Niall, was able to get over it. Wasn’t he? Saint Niall in his smart suits and with his posh voice. He lost all trace of his Creggan roots as soon as he could – now, his accent has more hints of snobby Belfast than the lyrical Derry twang.

It’s been a while since he has spoken to Niall. Maybe he should phone him and give him the heads-up that Ingrid might want to talk to him. No, he doesn’t want to speak to Niall. He doesn’t want to talk to him about Ingrid. He can picture it now already, Niall on the charm offensive, and he bets he would be just the kind of man Ingrid Devlin would go for. Polished and proper. Not wondering whether he should buy fags or grass on tick again.

Trying to ignore the beeping that warns him his electricity is running low and he’ll need to top up the meter, Declan Heaney takes another drag on his cigarette. Maybe all those carcinogens in the cheap fags will do him a favour and finish him off sooner rather than later.

Chapter Eleven

Ingrid

Saturday, 19 October 2019