She walked along the drive to the lane, ignoring the rain, turned towards the village as her walk sped to a jog, kept running until she heard an engine behind her, tyres on rough road. Looking behind, to the bend in the lane, she could see no sign. She made for the hedgerow, forced her way through despite the scratching and tearing at her skin and clothes. On the other side, at the top of the riverbank, she crouched down and watched as Damien’s BMW passed.

When it had gone, and she could no longer hear its engine, she stood upright. She glanced down at the river. Light reflected on its surface, pocked by raindrops.

The girl looked back, unmoved by the current, scarlet ribbons clutched to her belly.

Sara looked away, closed her eyes.

When she looked back, the girl had gone.

Had never been there.

29: Joy

29: Joy

Joy had fallen into a shallow and greasy sleep when she was woken by raised voices above. Her first instinct was to reach for Mary, but she found the space beside her empty. She sat upright, disoriented, searching the room. Mary lay on the next bed, Noreen crouched at her side, dabbing her forehead with a wet cloth. The child’s breath came in thin, rattling wheezes. Joy went to ask after her, but another round of shouting from above drowned her out.

“They’ve been at it a good while now,” Noreen said. “Tam’s drunk, fighting the both of them.”

It had been some time since Tam had been drinking. Weeks, maybe months, it was hard to tell. Time here passed in days and seasons, nothing in between. When Tam started on the drink, there was no stopping him. His temper was foul enough when he was sober; with drink on him, he was pure wicked. Even his brother and his father tread carefully around him.

“What are they fighting about?” Joy asked.

“The child, I think.” Noreen pressed the cloth against Mary’s chest. “George wants them to help her. Tam wants to let her die.”

Heavy feet shook dirt from the ceiling above, bellowing voices, furniture pushed around the living room then moving to the kitchen. A clatter and a thud, and Joy pictured the table upended, a chair cowped. Then the entire world seemed to shake with the impact of bodies on the floor. Joy and Noreen both flinched. Roaring from above, two voices cursing, a third telling them to stop.

“They’re killing each other,” Joy said.

“I hope they do,” Noreen said. “Let one kill the other till they’re all dead. That’d do me all right.”