A pair of bright, perhaps still feverish eyes stared out at him from a white face.

‘May I talk with you alone?’ McNab tried.

She observed him intently for a moment before saying, ‘I’d like that.’

McNab didn’t look round to see McCreadie’s reaction to this, just focused on Karen as he heard the others file out of the room. As soon as he judged they were alone, McNab drew up a chair and sat beside Karen.

‘What do you want to know, Detective Sergeant?’ she said in a weary, haunted voice.

‘Everything,’ McNab said. ‘Tell me everything.’

55

McCreadie was right. Karen Johnston – who he would always think of as Karen Marshall – appeared barely well enough to be interviewed.

Noting her wan face, and the heavily bandaged left wrist, McNab wondered whether this should indeed be postponed. Knowing he hadn’t even considered her mental state, McNab suggested they could delay their talk until she felt better.

‘I’ve waited long enough. I told myself I couldn’t remember, but maybe the truth was I wouldn’t remember. Or it was easier to forget.’ She lifted her downcast eyes and observed McNab. ‘The women at the cafe know all about covering up the bad things that have happened to you. They know it just eats away at you. Hollows you out.’

She halted there and gave him an apologetic smile. ‘When you found Mary’s body, I knew it was time for this to happen. You see, up to that point I’d always hoped that Mary had run away, and that she would come back one day.’

McNab brought out his phone. ‘Can I record our conversation, rather than write it down? That way I can listen again later?’ he requested.

‘Go ahead,’ she said.

McNab set it up, pressed record, then nodded at Karen to continue.

‘Mary was my pal.’ She smiled, as though remembering the happy times. ‘We were the same age, but she was much braver than me. That belt her dad had? She wasn’t scared of him or his belt.’

Karen gave a little laugh, then her face darkened. ‘But she was afraid of God. Religion did that to you in those days. Priests and ministers told children they were full of sin. I didn’t even know what that meant. Turns out it was mostly about sex, something I also didn’t know much about.’ She looked at McNab. ‘Mary knew more about it all than me.’ She shook her head. ‘But I found out soon enough.’

McNab waited for Karen to continue.

‘We were at the den when Mary told me that she couldn’t be confirmed because God wouldn’t forgive her. I didn’t ask what he wouldn’t forgive her for. I didn’t say don’t be silly, Mary. All I could think about was the dress. Did that mean she wasn’t going to wear the dress?’ Karen gave a hollow laugh. ‘I wanted a dress like that. I was a Protestant, so I would never have one. All the white net, and a veil, just like a bride. So when Mary asked me, I said yes.’ She looked to McNab, willing him to understand what she meant.