She fussed Maureen back down the hall and put her in Benny's bed. The room smelled strongly of Benny's Brylcreem. Una pulled the curtains against the ferocious sunlight and shut the door quietly.

When Maureen woke up again the radio in the kitchen had been tuned to a pop station and was making an irritating, upbeat noise. Testing her head, she slowly pulled herself upright and opened her eyes. She wouldn't be able to eat for a while but her stomach felt strong enough to take a cup of tea.

Una and Alistair were sitting with their coats on drinking tea in the kitchen. They had cleared a space on the table.

"Sit down," said Una, and turned off the radio. She made Maureen a cup of tea. "Have you been to the doctor?"

Una lived an ordered life, she believed in medicine; doctors were the lieutenants of absolute good. When Maureen was found in the cupboard she had had a terrible shock and wanted her put away immediately and for a very long time.

"I went on Friday," said Maureen. "I'm off work but she said I'm coping wonderfully. She's given me some medication." This didn't seem to be enough to assuage Una's fears. "And she's scheduled extra sessions for me."

"Good. Have you seen Mum?"

"Aye, I saw her on Friday."

"Did she say anything?"

"Anything about what?"

Una blushed.

"Look," said Maureen wearily, "if Mum's starting fights with me behind my back I don't want to know about it. Rope me in later, okay, Una?"

"Okay, then," said Una. "The police came to see me."

"Did they ask about Liam?"

"No, just you."

"That's good. I don't want him involved."

Una shifted in her chair. She knew what Liam did for a living but she didn't like to hear it said out loud. "The papers have been phoning everyone about you."

"I know. They came to my work."

"Oh dear."

"Mum actually asked me whether I'd done it," said Maureen. "I couldn't believe it."

Una stood up suddenly. "We'd better be going now," she said.

"Oh, come on, Una," said Maureen, as emphatically as she could manage, "what has Mum been saying about me?"

"She said she's your mum," said Una, and sat down, "and she'll stand by you, whatever you've done."

"But I didn't do it, I told her I didn't."

Una coughed, politely.

"Una, what did she say?"

Una spoke quietly, like a child caught in a lie and made to finger her co-conspirators. "She said you might not remember properly." She paused awkwardly, waiting for Maureen to lose her temper.

Maureen thought about it with the tired, apathetic calm of a bad hangover. "Mum's nuts," she said.

Una laughed loud and high with relief.

By the time Una and Alistair left it was six o'clock. Maureen phoned Liam.

"Mauri? What the fuck's going on? I came looking for you and Benny let me in and you were crashed out on the settee with an empty half bottle on the floor."

"Have you tidied up?"

"Yeah, totally. Are you all right?"

"God, aye, I suppose. I'm hung over."

"What was the message about?"

"I saw Carol Brady yesterday. She said the police called our family unsavory and I just thought… you know, it might be about you. I might have panicked but she was pretty scary."

"No, it was good thinking."

"She asked me to go for lunch yesterday. She thinks I killed him."

"You?"

"I don't feel too good, Liam," said Maureen. Her voice was trembling.

"I'll come over. I'll get videos out and you can forget about it for tonight."

Benny came back just in time to catch Liam skinning up on the coffee table while Maureen watched the trailers to Hard Boiled, a kung-fu movie with lots of shooting in it. He had his good brown leather jacket on, the one he wore when he went to clubs looking for a lumber. They teased him about it for a while but he wasn't up for it. He was fractious and worried about his exams. He said he'd seen the paper and Liz could sue for defamation because they'd called her by Maureen's name.

"Yeah?" said Maureen. "Why's that defamatory?"

"Because you're a notorious character," said Benny.

Benny wasn't allowed any mood-altering substances because he was in AA. He insisted that he didn't mind them smoking hash in the house but he kept waving the smoke away from his face. Liam told him not to be such a tight-arse and his tense mood deepened.

When the films were over Liam went home and Benny hurried off to bed. Maureen sat in the dark on the edge of the settee and tried to cry but her eyes just stung and burned.

The next morning they were puffy and sore. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked mad. Anyone with an ounce of wit would think she had killed Douglas. She washed her face, splashing cold water on her eyes, hoping to soothe them. She wanted to go to work, she was missing Liz, but she comforted herself with the thought that it was Tuesday and she'd be seeing Leslie later.

She phoned Liz to tell her she could sue for defamation. Liz said that the booth was besieged by journalists and sensation seekers coming for a peek at her. Mr. Scobie kept trying to shoo them away but the minute he went inside they came back. He told her to shut the ticket office until he could find someone to take her place. So she was sitting alone in the dark booth, answering the single daily call for the hypnotist-show tickets because he wouldn't let her go home without docking her pay. She said that the photograph in the paper made her look as if she had a double chin. "He's dead pissed off with you, Maureen."

"Yeah, well, he's gonnae be more pissed off, because I'm taking a couple of days off."

Liz inhaled sharply. "Shall I tell him?"

"Yeah, go on. I'll see ye later, yeah?"

"See ye, Maureen."

Chapter 11

It seemed to be overcast and raining every time Maureen went to the Rainbow Clinic. She got off the bus and crossed the empty dual carriageway, following the ten-foot-high wall around to the driveway.

The clinic operated out of a converted creamery, built as part of the Levanglen Lunatic Asylum estate. It consisted of a long, single-story building with Portakabins at the back, where the admin was done. Maureen walked in the front door, went straight past the pay phones, through the main foyer and down the short corridor to the waiting room. The walls were painted yellow and covered in posters of puppies and kittens and monkeys. When it was full of patients the maniacally cheerful room looked like a sarcastic joke.

Straight across from the entry door, beyond Shirley's desk, a set of fire doors led through to the corridor where Angus, Douglas and Dr. Murray's offices were. Douglas had spoken of Murray often, usually in a less than loving manner. They had had a fight over extending the Rainbow's client group to include patients being moved back into the community from a long-term hospital to the east of the city. Douglas thought that they didn't have the resources to deliver the service but Murray was determined to spearhead the development and get his name on all the letters. Douglas said he was disgustingly self-promoting.

The waiting room was empty except for a young girl sitting in the corner, pretending to read a battered copy of Good Housekeeping. She was wearing a leather jacket, combat trousers and big boots. She seemed to have cut her hair herself: it was chewed short and uneven with long lumps sticking up at the back. Her left jacket sleeve was deliberately pushed back to display an angry grid of slash scars on her inner wrist. Visible scars are a good way to stop casual approaches from the happy and content. Maureen turned away and sat down in a plastic chair against the other wall.