‘Molly Hayes?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You requested to see the chaplain.’

‘No.’

‘It says here you did.’

‘Go on, give us a few minutes of privacy – think I’m about to have the shits,’ Sheila B said.

‘OK,’ Molly said. ‘Sip on that water.’

She walked down a series of hallways, the guard locking and unlocking doors as they continued towards their destination.

‘How are you finding us?’ she said. She didn’t give her name, or if she did Molly was too distracted by Sheila B’s insides coming out.

‘A real palace, all that’s missing are the scented candles,’ Molly said, and the ponytailed woman chuckled.

‘We aim to please.’

‘Sheila’s very sick.’

‘We’re monitoring her. She’ll see the doctor first thing, so will you.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’

‘It’s standard procedure.’

One more door to open and close and they were outside the chapel. ‘I’ll be back for you,’ she said, walking away and leaving Molly standing outside. She pushed on the door and revealed a small, dimly lit room with scattered chairs, a table with a cross on it and some artwork and handwritten signage on the wall. Sitting on a chair in front of the makeshift altar was a man in black.

‘Hello?’ Molly said, and Father Frank stood up and turned to face her. He waved.

‘Frank?’

‘Hi, Molly.’

‘You’re doing the rounds,’ she said.

‘I know the chaplain here, we did a course together. Sit down.’

She sat. ‘Jack?’

‘He called to me this afternoon.’

‘Sorry for wasting your time,’ she said.

‘Am I?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know what you want from me, Frank.’

‘How about a bit of honesty?’ he said.

‘I’m an open book.’

‘Bollocks,’ he said, and it was the first time she’d ever heard the man curse.

‘Fine. What do you want to know?’

‘What happened, Molly?’

‘You know what happened – my daughter died.’

‘But what happened?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said, and she stood up to leave. He grabbed her hand and refused to let go. She sat.

‘What happened?’