Muireann reached across and took hold of Megan’s left hand. ‘So we’re stuck, then, aren’t we, the two of us?’

Megan pressed the ice pack against her nose again, and nodded. After she had given herself a few seconds relief from the pain, she said, ‘I’ve felt like hanging myself, more than once. Or throwing myself in the Lee. Barry hates me but he still wants the sex whenever he’s not so langered that he can’t manage it. And he always hurts me when he’s doing it.’

‘Tommy, he’s the same. I’m here for a breath test, because I’ve been having cramps in my stomach, and it wouldn’t surprise me at all if he’s the cause of it.’

The two of them sat, still holding hands, for over a minute. Patients and nurses and delivery men came and went, and outside on Henry Street the parked cars glittered wet in the grey morning light.

At last Muireann said, ‘I’ll have to go now, girl. But let’s swap phone numbers. If ever you’re feeling depressed, like, or if ever your Barry’s beating you too much for you to bear, you give me a ring, okay? And I’ll do the same if my Tommy’s giving out to me.’

‘I’m not sure what use that will be.’

‘It’ll give you a shoulder to cry on, Megan, if nothing else.’

They exchanged numbers, but they had only just finished when Megan glanced towards the door and said urgently, ‘Be off with you now, Muireann. Quick. And don’t be after looking back at me.’

Muireann immediately stood up and walked over to the information desk, without turning around. She knew why Megan had told her to get up and go, but it was only when she walked over to the stairs that she saw Feargal in a dirty brown trench coat sitting next to Megan, with his arm around the back of her chair. Whatever he was saying to her, he was jabbing his finger as if he were making some kind of a threat.

19

The conference room at Anglesea Street was already crowded with reporters and cameramen when Katie walked in with Superintendent Pearse and Detective Inspector Fitzpatrick.

Katie noticed at once that Owen Dineen from the Irish Sun was sitting at the back, manspreading, with his thick-rimmed spectacles perched on the end of his plum-coloured nose and his overcoat undone. Fionnuala Sweeney was there as usual, from RTÉ, as well as Dan Keane from the Examiner and Rionach Barr from the Echo, but there were three or four unfamiliar faces, which told her that this story had aroused more widespread media attention than usual.

Well, she thought, that’s only to be expected. Young Drug Dealer Disembowelled In Disco.