Part 41 (2/2)

Laughter. Mulrooney glared across the rows in front of him. *What's that?' he growled.

*He has a point though,' said a man close to the door. *I can't leave the farm the way it is. Not now. I've been there all my life, Frank. Can we not just forget about all this madness? We got caught up in it, that's all. Now we know what to watch for, won't we be okay?'

Flynn shook his head. *My point is, Francis, that we just don't know how it's going to affect us next.'

Moira, about six seats up from White in the front row, stood up. *Father, everything you say is right. But it could also be wrong.' She nodded round the audience. *What I think he's saying is that we just don't know what's going on because everything we say and do is affected by this gas. We could all be talking nonsense now. Christine could still be the Messiah. We'll only really be in a position to know if we get off the island, away from its influence.'

Flynn nodded enthusiastically. *Exactly, Moira. We need to get our people off, and those who do know something about radon on. Then maybe one day we can come back. When it's safe.'

Jack McGettigan, to Flynn's left at the Council table, shook his head. *You know as well as I do that once people leave they'll never come back. It has always been like that.'

*Didn't I come back, Jack?'

*Aye. And look what happened. Maybe it was that Protestant heart.'

*Now, Jack,' said Flynn, and waved a finger in jovial admonishment, *don't be saying that.'

As I stood in the garden, I flashed back to Duncan's head exploding. To the taste of him on my lips. The stench of piled bodies remained trapped in my nose. Flynn was right. There was madness in the air.

It was still before seven when we locked Snow Cottage up. There were no goodbyes. It had never felt like home. I'd written three words of a novel, and two of them I wasn't sure about. I'd come within a moment of having my head blown off and once again been saved by a woman. Women, in fact. It almost hurt to think it. Patricia, Moira, the women of the parish, had all along been more on the ball than their menfolk, had all along expressed their misgivings to each other but agreed to stand by their men until things got really out of hand. Oh, they'd believed in Christine okay, but they'd preserved a certain detachment. They'd allowed their menfolk free range on the decisions, and in the process proved that they were the real decision-makers. Moira and Patricia had spread word of the bodies, and the revulsion had inspired insurrection and suddenly the McCooeys were no more. It was a triumph for womankind.

Mind you, they'd needed Dr Finlay to start the tractor.

Patricia hummed gently as we drove. She didn't look back. Little Stevie was happy in her lap. The hedgehog box was wedged into the boot.

When we reached town I asked Patricia if she would miss the old place.

*Of course. Like a hole in the head.'

*We thought it might be a little paradise.'

*You thought it might be a little paradise.'

*I thought it might bring us closer together.'

*And do you think it did?'

I shrugged. *I suppose so. What do you think?'

She shrugged too. Little Stevie opened his eyes briefly. *I don't know if we were ever that far apart,' Patricia said.

I drove up the Main Street and stopped outside Dr Finlay's house.

*What now?' Patricia said.

*We should say goodbye.'

*We'll miss the ferry.'

*There's no shortage of ferries today, love,' I said.

*You don't understand. I want on the first one.'

*We'll get on the first one.'

I rattled the door. Dr Finlay's housekeeper was already up. She kept me waiting at the door. Several minutes later Finlay arrived, yawning, still tying his dressing gown.

*We're off,' I said.

He didn't look especially heartbroken. *Oh. Right. Good luck, then.'

*You're staying?'

*Of course. I'm a doctor.'

*And doctors don't get sick.'

*Something like that.'

*Most people will leave, though, won't they?'

He nodded solemnly. *They've been looking for an excuse for years. Christine stopped the rot. But now she's gone . . . not gone a what would you say a diminished?' I shrugged. *Well, there'll be no stopping them.'

*Will I send you some whiskey across?'

He cracked a smile. *That would be nice. I can't see Jackie opening the pub again.'

*I wonder if he ever did bury that drink.'

He yawned again. *It would have aged better than what did get buried.'

*What about Duncan? There'll need to be a funeral.'

*Aye. I suppose. Same for the others. Don't worry about it. Go on home. You're well out of it.'

*And Willie Nutt? Did he ever show up?'

Finlay shook his head. *Probably still running. Nah, he'll turn up. Bad pennies always do.'

For several moments we looked silently back down the hill to the harbour, and then on across the sea. The mainland was hidden by cloud and mist. *All these deaths,' I said, *do you think . . .?'

*We'll get away with it?'

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