Page 45 of The Chief
“And they believed you?”
“I’m a very convincing actress.”
No doubt she put those skills to work in her nightly job too, gotta satisfy the customer.
“And the mysterious new boyfriend? They never tried to track him down?”
“Of course they did, but he’d already been dead for eight years.”
My eyes widened as I realized what she was saying. “You gave them da’s name?”
“He said he’d always protect us, and I still believe it to this day.”
My mother’s will to survive shouldn’t astound me. I’d inherited some of her grit myself. But to lie to the Garda like that, and to be so confident in doing so, made me look at her in a different light.
“Why’d you do it, Caitria?”
Her soft question made me recoil. “You know why.”
“Brian looked after you like you were his own daughter. Few men would take on a widowed woman and her young daughter, especially not one so young.”
“He abused me!” I finally let my voice rise. “He sexually abused me for years.”
Her complete lack of reaction stunned me. She knew. She’d known all the time and hadn’t stopped it.
“We’re the weaker sex, Caitria. You learned the lesson sooner than most, and I think you’re stronger for it.”
I blinked, the bitter words I wanted to hurl at her sat on the edge of my tongue. As I opened my mouth to tell her exactly how she had failed as a mother, Keir swept back into the room like a thundercloud. His mood was dark, but the smile he’d plastered on his face was unusually bright. He smelled strongly of Turkish tobacco, like he’d been chain smoking outside.
To my mother, he said, “I must apologize for leaving to make that phone call.” Turning to me, he added, “We have to go.”
“Go?” my mother asked, rising from the couch and tightening the sash on her robe. “But you only just got here.” She was back to the doting mother, and I hated her for the deception.
“My apologies, Nora. We came here on business. It’s quite pressing.”
“All right. Will you come back for dinner? Orla will be so happy to see you. Both of you.”
I glanced at Keir, only to find him already looking at me. He was letting me decide.
Turning back to my mam, I replied, “Dinner sounds okay.”
She nodded. “Good. Come by around six?”
“Okay.”
She walked us to the door, where we said our goodbyes and moved to the car.
“You look like her,” Keir said when we were tucked back inside.
“I have the same hair,” I replied.
“And the same eyes.”
I shook my head. “I have my da’s eyes. Where are we going?”
“To see Gael and Owen O’Mahony.”
“Should I know who they are?”
