‘Get undressed now,’ she said to Angel. ‘Everything goes in the bag, no exceptions. The bathroom’s right there, have a good hot bath. Take the brandy in with you. Then put on the nightie and come back in here, OK?’

Angel did as she was told. She bathed, used the loo, slipped on the nightie. By that time, she’d finished the brandy and felt fuzzy around the edges. Still she kept seeing that horrific image of Donny, blood spurting out of him. She closed her eyes and he was there, right there, at the bathroom door. She whimpered. He was knocking at the door. But then it opened and it was only Annie.

‘You OK in here?’ she asked.

Angel nodded. Annie picked up the empty brandy glass.

‘Come on then,’ said Annie, and led the way back into the bedroom.

Angel saw that the bag containing all her clothes was gone. The covers on the bed were turned down.

‘Hop in,’ said Annie, guiding Angel over to the bed, tucking her in under the covers. Then Annie went over to the side of the room, refilled the glass with brandy and brought it back, placing it on the bedside table within easy reach.

‘You want me to stay here with you for a bit?’ asked Annie.

Angel nodded. She didn’t want to be alone.

‘OK,’ said Annie, and sat down in an armchair beside the bed. She kicked off her stiletto heels and heaved a heavy sigh. ‘Christ, that’s bliss. It’s been a long day.’

‘I’ve been a nuisance,’ said Angel.

‘Nah. Forget it. Everything will look better in the morning. All you got to do now is get some sleep.’

Angel didn’t feel like she would ever again dare close her eyes. If she tried to sleep she would see him again. He would haunt her for the rest of her life, because she was a killer, she was guilty.

‘Don’t think about it,’ said Annie, watching the younger woman’s face. ‘You’re safe. He’s in the past now. And you have a future. Everything’s going to be fine.’

106

When Steve, Jackie and the others had finished up at Donny Maguire’s flat, Steve cut up a couple of spuds and placed Dora’s grungy old deep-fat fryer on the gas stove, turning the flame on high. He chucked in the chips, had a quick glance around, then left the building. He joined Jackie and the other two boys down in the car. They sat there, watching the first-floor flat’s windows. All of a sudden they could hear distant popping noises, like a toy gun going off.

‘What’s that?’ asked one of the men.

‘Kitchen tiles coming off with the heat,’ said Steve.

Then they saw the first yellow flicker. Soon the flames were roaring. At that point, Steve left the car and ran over to the downstairs flat. The lights were on in there. He hammered on the door and waited. There was movement behind the door, then it was flung open.