Almost immediately Tom saw the leg. It was sticking out as though whoever it belonged to was having a sleep on the floor. He gave another tiny push. There was a second leg. Of course there was a second leg. Jesus, thought Tom, am I drunk? Am I seeing things that aren’t there? The owner of the legs was slumped against a cupboard. Finally, he saw the head. He couldn’t see the face, but that didn’t matter. He knew the black curly hair. He’d know it anywhere. It was Father Galvin. The priest’s head lolled, as if he wasn’t just asleep. As if he was hurt or worse. Oh, hell. There was definitely something wrong. What had happened to Father Galvin? Tom didn’t want to see any more. Quickly, he pulled the door shut and, falling over himself like the maddest drunk ever, scrambled to the side of the house and leaned against the wall. Salty liquid climbed up his throat. He swallowed.

Father Galvin. There was an odd sound in Tom’s head, like being underwater in the swimming pool. He breathed in. And again. And again. The gulps of cold air hit his lungs and made his chest hurt. The person he’d seen leaving the room, surely they’d gone for help. That must be it. They’d gone to fetch somebody else. Shit. When they came back, they’d spot him. He didn’t want his folks to see him. Out here. Half jarred. In search of more beer. With Conor and the two girls in the shed and Father Galvin on the floor.

He took another breath and told himself to calm down. As long as neither his mam nor his dad went upstairs to check on him, he’d be okay. He’d have to get back into the house later but he’d wait until the fuss – there was bound to be fuss – had died down. In the meantime, he’d return to the others. He wouldn’t tell them what he’d seen. There’d be too many questions; questions he couldn’t answer. They’d all want to know what Father Galvin looked like, and the girls might get upset. No, he’d say the door was locked and leave it at that.

First, he needed to stop shaking.

Chapter 2

Tess took a couple of minutes to adjust to the light. It glittered through the curtains, as if this was high summer rather than the depths of January. Then she remembered the snow. The snow made everything shine. She stretched out her legs until her feet reached the bottom of the bed. The sheets were freezing. Quickly, she curled back into a comma and thought about the night before.