There’s a bus broken down on the quays. Which is all anyone needs on a Monday morning. I push through the crowd exiting the bus and continue on towards the café. My head feels so much better today. It took the best part of yesterday before I could open my eyes without feeling pain. Lucas was great; he didn’t speak much and brought me lots of water and greasy food when I was finally able to stomach it.

I enjoyed the night, everyone had a great time but I’m also glad it’s over. Now I can concentrate on the wedding. The dress, my hair… why did Avril Ryan ring my phone? What could she have possibly wanted? I managed to keep those questions from ruining the hen party but now they’re sitting right at the front of my head waiting for some attention. Maybe if I knew more about the woman I could figure out why she was looking to speak to me. But how do I find that out?

With the bright watery sun blinding my vision, I continue on down the quays to the café. I should Google and see if I can find out where Avril Ryan worked before she was killed. It’s got to be somewhere on social media and that might give me a clue. Other than that, I’m at a loss. Detective Lee doesn’t seem to want to share anything with me – if she knows anything. Faye might be able to get more out of them. They’ll be more trusting of her. Dr Faye Connolly. I bet they wouldn’t believe she’d lie to them.

The shutters are already up when I arrive outside the café. Muriel must be here already. I turn the key in the door and walk in to find her sitting at one of the tables drinking from a takeaway cup and writing in one of the ledgers.

‘Morning Muriel, everything okay?’

‘Morning Tara, yes, just getting a bit of work done early. I’ve to go to a funeral this morning and I wanted to get these orders out before I go.’

The smell of coffee cheers me up so I go straight to the machine and make myself an Americano, with an extra shot.

‘Oh sorry to hear that, someone close?’

‘Not really but I have to show my face. The delivery from Cahill’s will be arriving between ten and eleven so make sure it’s correct this time.’ Muriel swallows more from her cup of tea, then stands. It always amazes me that someone who owns a coffee shop and brags about the quality of her beans never actually drinks the stuff.