Chapter 64
CHAPTER 64
Maura
I’m following the others outside when I feel a firm hand on my shoulder.
“If you wouldn’t mind coming with me, Mrs. Davenport,” a garda says. He’s an older man, with a round belly and a salt-and-pepper moustache.
My body stiffens, instantly guarded, and suddenly I need the bathroom.
“Let her go,” Bernie shouts from across the station carpark. “Get your hands off her.”
The garda is smiling and there’s a kindness in his eyes that throws me. “Mrs. Davenport, please, if you could step this way.”
Bernie hurries closer.
“If you arrest her, you’ll have to take us all. Do you want to do that? Do you really want to arrest us all?”
The fear in Bernie’s eyes stabs me in the chest. I feel it like a blade burrowing into my skin.
“I’m all right,” I say, and the lie tastes bitter on my tongue. “Everything will be okay.”
I’m not sure if I’m telling Bernie or myself. And it’s quite obvious from the look on Bernie’s face that she believes it as little as I do. But she backs away.
The garda tilts his head toward a quieter area of the carpark, less congested with celebration. I notice he has a colleague by his side. A younger, silent man.
The two men stand facing me and I feel my insides churn.
“Mrs. Davenport, I’m afraid I have some distressing news.”
I don’t have words.
“Your husband, Dr. Davenport, passed away this afternoon.”
My hand covers my mouth.
“I can imagine this is very hard to hear.”
“Where? When? Are you sure it’s him?”
“Very sure, I’m afraid. He was discovered in his car outside the hospital by one of his colleagues.”
“He works at the hospital; he’s a doctor,” I say, forgetting that they already introduced Christy as Dr. Davenport.
“I’m sorry. I know this must be terribly upsetting.”
I swallow. It is. In spite of everything he did, and my fear that he would one day come home, it is a shock to know my husband is no longer part of this world.
“Your husband had some papers with him at the time of his passing.”
“Papers?”
“It seems they are in relation to the sale of your house. Number eleven The Gardens, Rathmines.”
“Oh.”
“Dr. Davenport passed before he had a chance to sign them, I’m afraid. But I’m sure if you contact your solicitor, they will be able to help with the legal side of that.”
“Is the house sold?” I say, struggling to take everything in.
“Not as of this time. But as I said, your solicitor should be able to advise. I’m sorry. I’m sure that is the last thing on your mind right now.”
I exhale slowly and sharply, making myself lightheaded.
“Is there anything we can do? Anywhere we can drop you? A lift home, perhaps?” the younger garda says, finding his voice at last.
“I, eh…” I glance around at the hustle and bustle. The sounds of triumph reach me now as if I am under water.
“I’m okay,” I say. “I will be okay.”
And this time, I mean it.