Chapter 23

It had been the longest day of Michael Malone’s life and he told Rosie so as he undressed for bed. ‘I’ve just checked in on her, and Finn too. I’ve never felt the need to do that before, but I’m putting a lock on the back door tomorrow. Dana Brogan is on the mattress you put on the floor next to her.’ He dropped his trousers to the ground and sat on the side of the bed, hands on his knees, trousers around his ankles.

Rosie’s heart constricted as she looked at the man she knew had stared through the windows of hell for all the hours his daughter had been missing. ‘She’s safe,’ she said as she sat down beside him and placed a hand on his knee. ‘It was nice of Dana to come rushing over when she heard what had happened. She and Mary Kate seem to have a bit of a bond, don’t you think?’

‘I do. I must send a bottle of whiskey over to the daddy. He was a great help with his van, and bringing their farmhands too.’

‘People were arriving from all over to the post office, the news spread fast.’

Michael rubbed his hands across his face. ‘Thank the Lord those two are behind bars. No harm will come to anyone now.’

‘That’s true. And just think, McGuffey would be dead if Dr Gaskell and the matron hadn’t been in the village. Wasn’t that a strange thing.’

‘How can such an evil bastard have luck like that?’ The anger spilt from Michael in his voice. ‘I wish they hadn’t come. I wish he was dead.’

‘Shh, neither of them will ever get out of prison. Father Jerry told me that kidnap is a very serious crime. They will be in Galway jail for life, is that not good enough?’

They both stopped talking as they heard a van pull up outside Paddy’s and then a clamour of excited voices as the door opened and closed.

‘Jesus, Tarabeg has suddenly become the centre of the feckin’ earth,’ said Michael.

‘’Tis true. And that’s enough to take in as it is, without everything else that’s happened.’ Rosie bent down and pulled Michael’s trousers over his feet.

He removed his cap and hung it on the bedpost, then fell back against the feather-stuffed pillow. ‘I feel as though the world has turned upside down, Rosie. Nothing feels the same. It’s as if the days when Angela was murdered have returned and, God knows, they were dark enough.’

Rosie pulled back the pink candlewick bedspread and slipped between the sheets. They were cool to the touch, chilled by the air from the Taramore river outside their open window. She switched off the lamp, propped herself up on one elbow and stared at his profile. His still black, wavy hair contrasted with the whiteness of the pillow in the moonlight and as he turned his face towards her his eyes reflected the starlight back to her.