‘Bye Anna, wrap up warm, it’s pretty blustery out there,’ I say, my voice showing no sign of the anxiety growing inside me at the prospect of the call I’m about to make.

‘See ya tomorrow, Faye,’ Anna says, zipping up her jacket. Then she moves out from behind the reception area and I continue with haste down the corridor. I need to ring Tara Moore. I need to talk to her before the cops do. When I reach the privacy of my own space, I quickly sit down at my desk. My finger flicks down the list of contacts in my phone until I reach her name. I’m hoping this is still her number.

With the phone to my ear, I wait until I hear it ring then I cut the call. Why am I so nervous all of a sudden? It’s only Tara Moore. Why is my hand shaking, my breath quickening?

I’m anxious. It’s like I’m standing at a crossroads on the map of my life and I don’t know which way to turn. The thing is, I have learned to live without Tara in my life. I don’t want to invite her back in. Especially when I don’t trust this woman anymore.

There was a time I trusted Tara Moore with everything. She knew all my secrets, my hates, my wishes, the things I did that I shouldn’t have done. The things I should have done that I didn’t. But she betrayed me. Stabbed me in the heart with my own knife. I could never trust her again.

Anger simmers below my skin when I think back to that night. My face reddens. I can feel the heat flush through my cheeks. I’m holding the phone so tightly my hand hurts. Releasing my grip, I let the phone drop onto the table… and breathe in… and out. Take it easy Faye… it’s just a phone call… and you have to make it.

Chapter Six

Tara

I push open the door of the café to the sound of Muriel cursing at somebody over the phone. God love whoever it is on the other end. She does not take kindly to her orders being late.

‘So what do you want me to tell my customers?’ she shouts, giving me a thumbs-up when she notices me enter.

The smell of coffee is a welcome change to the smell I had to endure on my walk to work. The Liffey is low and stinks today. Every breath was torture to take on the fifteen-minute journey down the quays.