‘She’s getting worse. Look at her eyes. Nothing there but emptiness. Excuse me… I have to go… can’t hack it…’

Not Jessica stays. Perfume… can’t breathe…

‘It’s just like old times. You and I alone together sharing secrets. Remember how we giggled ourselves in hiccups over any silly boy who looked at us? Remember the vows we made. Friends forever. Remember what you did to destroy that friendship? Remember, Nadine? Remember?

‘I saw you with him. You pretended you were looking at stars but I knew what you were doing. I watched how you flattered him. That sideways smile, brushing against him every chance you got. You didn’t even bother pulling the curtains in your bedroom when you were writing those sickening fantasies. I saw everything… do you understand… everything! That day by the river. He called you Alcyone and I knew. You thought you were inviolate. Untouchable. First Jake, than my father. Jake signed my arm that night. He kissed me too. In the little snug in Barney’s before he want on stage. Oh, he was a good kisser then… and now.

‘We were together in Amsterdam. I freed the wildness in him in ways you never could. A conflagration, that’s what it was. Just like the barn. It’s the end game, Nadine. You must know that. He wants you dead. He told me so. Dead and buried like my father.

‘Did you ever feel a moment’s guilt as you trudged through your boring, busy life? Whinging about your marriage and how you never had a chance to decide your future. Did you ever wonder how I managed my broken heart? Drugs dull memory but nothing can destroy the truth. My mind exploded when I saw you at the airport that day. Or did it implode? Implosion crushes, explosion scatters. Can they happen simultaneously?’

‘Did you read your letters when I returned them to you? Of course you did. Were you so far removed from reality that you thought my father was in love with you? He would have laughed if he read them… and he would have…if only…if only…the two of us laughing together at your ridiculous fantasies…

‘How deep are your depths, now? Fathomless, probably. I want to tell you my secret. But not now. Another time. Eoin is waiting for me. Poor man. He doesn’t know what to do with you. His undead daughter. Bye for now. See you soon again.’

Hand on cheek. Cold. Door opens. Door closes. Quiet…not Jessica…no…Karin…Karin…Shivers on skin.

Chapter 67

Jake

Jake was unable to sleep. His eyes felt hot, gritty. He needed sleeping tablets, something powerful enough to switch off his thoughts. Imelda had spoken to him before he visited Nadine today. Her temperature kept spiking. She had vomited twice during the night. Her movements were becoming more persistent, spasmodic. She needed an increasing supply of oxygen to help her breathe. He could no longer ignore the truth. She was deteriorating, the weight falling from her, the lustre gone from her hair.

Suddenly, his senses alert, he sat up and switched on the light. He heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing except the taste of fear in his mouth. Was that how panic attacks began? He sniffed the air, convinced he could smell perfume. Faint, tantalising, as if lightly fanned on currents of air. He was reminded of orchids, not that he knew anything about their scent but he always imagined Karin’s perfume originating from the vulva-like centre of some exotic speckled blossom; oily, spicy, intimate. She could not have been inside Sea Aster. It was physically impossible. He ran downstairs, checked the front and backs doors. No sign of entry, not even a scratch on the paintwork. The windows were still locked. He returned to the bedroom and pressed the pillow to his face. Yes, that was the source. It cloyed his nostrils, reminded him of the musky scent he once sought in the curve behind her ear.

He slept fitfully in the spare room for the rest of the night. The smell had vanished when he returned to his own bedroom in the morning. Last night’s panic seemed dreamlike as he stripped off the bed linen. Phantosmia. He read about it once. Olfactory hallucinations, usually brought about by an illness. Mental or physical? He was unable to remember. Probably mental, he reflected gloomily as he shoved the sheets into the washing machine.

Eoin was already outside, clearing the barn. He had organised two large rubbish skips and was slowly filling them with the burned-out remains of equipment and furniture. When would he return to his wife? Wry comments about the ‘ball and chain’ and overheard snatches of phone conversations when he was talking to Lilian convinced Jake it was marital problems rather than his daughter’s coma that was keeping Eoin in Ireland. The stale smell of cigarette smoke still hung in the air from last night. He must have been smoking indoors when Jake was at band practice and Ali was with Sara.

He was amazed at his granddaughter’s resilience, the strength of her still-tiny kicking feet. She would soon be strong enough to come home from hospital. The thought of her breathing smoke into her delicate lungs enraged him.

He made tea and called Eoin in from the barn. ‘You should go back to Lilian,’ he said. ‘We’ve no idea how long this will go on.’

‘It’d be cruel to leave you at this stage,’ Eoin argued. ‘I can make myself useful, you know. That attic needs a lot of work if you’re serious about turning it into a recording studio. The wiring is shot to hell. I’ll make a start on it.’

‘Don’t touch anything,’ Jake held onto his temper, afraid he would go on a rampage if he lost it. Smash… clatter… bang… it would bring a momentary relief but everything would still be the same afterwards. ‘I’ll do the attic in my own time. Why not stay with Donal for a while? You’ve hardly seen him since you arrived.’

‘To be honest, Jake, me and the brother were never that close. All those frigging choo-choos would drive a man crazy. The last time he visited me and Lilian he overstayed his welcome by four weeks.’

‘How long was he supposed to stay?’

‘A month.’ Eoin slapped his knee and guffawed. ‘Only joking. But seriously, I’ll ring Donal soon. There’s no rush for the moment. I’m needed here. Are you sure you don’t want me to rewire – ’

‘Absolutely.’

‘At least let me move that stack of floorboards from the hall. I don’t know how many times I’ve tripped over them and nearly landed on me arse. You don’t want me ending up in hospital with a broken leg.’

Jake shuddered at this possibility. The floorboards for the attic were stacked behind the hall door and had been delivered to Sea Aster before the accident drove everything else from his mind. Eoin was right. They were a hazard.

The floorboards had been moved to the attic when he returned that night from Mount Veronica. A note from Eoin, along with a manila envelope had been left on the kitchen table.

Gone to visit Donal. Found this envelope behind the floorboards. Looks like it’s been there for a while. Be back tomorrow.

The envelope was covered in dust and smeared with spider webs. No name or address on the front suggested it was junk mail. He opened it, expecting to find a flyer about a supermarket offer or a special deal from a restaurant. Five smaller envelopes were inside. He opened the first one and removed a letter. The page had yellowed with age and been folded so often the creases were beginning to split. Each envelope contained a similar letter. This was Nadine’s writing, a younger, neater hand but still instantly recognisable.

My Darling Max, he read. Shocked, he checked the date. How could she have been writing to Max Moylan that summer… and using such an endearing term? He sat down and began to read.

By the time he finished the five letters he felt like a voyeur, somewhat soiled and guilty. His head pounded, as did his heart. No wonder Nadine had always avoided talking about that summer. How long had the letters been lying in the hall? She must have dropped them by accident when she was clearing out her possessions. By her own admission, she never wanted them to be read by anyone. He would be unable to ask her. The realisation that she might never speak to him again struck him anew and added to his grief.