a hat, oatmeal all over her head. She was giggling hysterically. Aiden had to stifle a laugh.
‘Oh, you can laugh,’ Isla said angrily as she removed the bowl and began mopping up the stone-coloured gloop. ‘You are not the one who has to clean this mess up! I’ve already washed her once this morning!’
Meegan was still giggling away.
‘No, Meegan. Bad girl!’ her mother scolded. Still the giggles refused to subside. Isla looked over to Aiden for support.
‘Breakfast is for eating, Meegs. Not wearing.’
At her father’s stern words the little girl’s face scrunched up into a ball and her skin began to turn crimson.
‘Now look what you have done!’ Isla moaned as Aiden braced himself for what was coming next. Meegan let out a huge scream and began wailing at the top of her lungs. Aiden was relieved to be leaving for work, baffled at how something so small could make a sound so immense. Her wails vibrated throughout his body, making his very bones shake.
‘I’m sorry, honey, but I have to go now else I’ll be late.’ Isla just waved her hand at him, not even turning her head as she continued to clean up the mess surrounding Meegan.
‘Are you sure you areOK?’ he yelled over the screaming.
‘I’m fine, just go!’ She still didn’t look at him.
Aiden lingered in the doorway, knowing from experience that when a woman said she was feeling fine, more often than not she meant the complete opposite. On not hearing the door slam to announce his departure, Isla looked up.
‘Go!’ she cried again, getting more and more agitated by Meegan’s frantic cries. Her eyes said stay but she was telling him to go. Confused, Aiden went with the vocal direction and left. He could still hear Meegan as he got into his car and felt a pang of guilt at driving away when she was so distressed. He hoped that everything would be calmer when he got home. He turned out of the driveway and headed back towards Eastham. He was going to visit Brandy again and had a few questions that he wanted answers to.
After the straightforward drive and the maze of corridors and gates, Aiden found himself once again sat before the Perspex pane of glass, looking into the amber eyes of Brandy White. She seemed even smaller than he remembered, and her skin was so pale it was almost translucent. Her eyes seemed so dark and sunken , it was as if her spirit was finally crushed and that her body was just fading away.
‘How are you doing?’ he asked softly.
‘Did you manage to see Father West?’
Aiden shook his head.
‘Oh, please, Mr. Connelly. I am so, so worried about my soul. I need to see him to make things right.’
‘So, you are feeling remorse about your husband’s death?’ This was good, she was finally beginning to show more normal emotions which would help the case flow more easily.
‘No,’ she replied flatly.
‘I just thought…’
‘I want to see Father West because I have always gone and made my peace with God every Sunday since I can remember. Call it comfort or whatever, but feeling like I do not have a connection to him, well, I feel truly dreadful.’
Aiden had to admit that she did look dreadful. Today the orange jumpsuit drowned her tiny frame and she seemed to shiver in her seat even though the room, at least on his side, felt far from cold.
‘Would you describe yourself as religious, Brandy?’
‘Most definitely.’
‘Do you not think that God will be angered by what you did to your husband?’ He was eager for answers and saw her faith as a way in.
‘No, I think he will understand.’
Aiden frowned, bemused by her response.
‘Brandy?’ He locked eyes with her, but not before double-checking that the Dictaphone was recording on the table beside him. ‘Why did you kill your husband?’
She smiled, not a cynical, wry smile, but a sweet, warm one, as if she were impressed by Aiden’s question.
‘Mr. Connelly, you are the first person to ask me that. Isn’t that strange?’
‘That is strange,’ he agreed, baffled at why he had failed to ask her that sooner himself.
‘When the police came, everybody was shouting, it was chaos. They put the handcuffs on me and just sent me straight here. I was put in a cell on my own; I suppose they think I am dangerous maybe. No one has been to see me. I hear people talking as they walk by, but no one has asked me why. Even when the police took my statement, they asked me what happened and that was that. They didn’t want to know why.’
‘So why did you do it?’
‘Well…it…’ Brandy suddenly became extremely agitated. Tears welled up in her eyes and her lips began quivering. She wrung her hands together in an attempt to alleviate her anxiety but it did no good. Her body shook like she was sobbing deep within her soul but she barely made a sound.
‘Hey, it’sOK,’ Aiden tried to calm her. Without really knowing what he was doing, he placed his palm upon the glass. The guards watched him intently, unsure of what he was doing.
Brandy understood and placed her hand against his; the glass was cool to the touch but no longer seemed such a huge barrier.
‘I am here,’ he almost whispered, ‘to help you. I know this is hard.’
She began to calm down.
‘I need to know what happened, and why it happened. Take as long as you need, but you must tell me everything.’
She nodded slowly with understanding.
‘I remember hearing somebody say once that the beginning is a very good place to start, so that is what I’ll do.’
She withdrew into herself for a moment, then taking a deep breath, she began.
‘I have lived in Avalon all my life. You couldn’t find a nicer town. The sun seems to always shine and most people greet you with a smile and a kind word, at least they used to… ‘I was raised by my Ma. My Pa had took off long before I was even born. I don’t even know his name. Sometimes I wonder if she even knew who he was for sure. We lived in a trailer, out on Clapham Way. I know what you must be thinking, trash, right?’
Aiden shook his head. Brandy bit her lip, unsure whether to carry on.
‘Please, continue,’ he urged.
‘See, lots of folk live in trailers at some point, when times get hard. Without a steady man and a kid in town, it was all my Ma could afford. I had a nice childhood for the most part. I played with friends; some lived in nice, fancy houses and had nice things. I never brought anybody home, I wasn’t ashamed as such, I just didn’t want to be judged. Every Sunday Ma dressed me up real nice and we went to church and we fitted in with everyone else. I was happiest there. Life felt normal when we were at church and Ma seemed happy. But I noticed something was wrong when I was around eight. She had just broken up with, I think his name was Jamie, and it had hit her hard. I’m pretty sure she loved him but I think he had a wife as he wasn’t around too much but was always talking about one day making us all a real family. When he left she just seemed to give up. At first it was just drinking, but then she turned to drugs.’
Brandy appeared pained by the memories, but seemed determined to carry on.
‘Trailer parks don’t attract the best people so it was easy for her to get drugs. I’m not sure what she took. She smoked it, used needles, anything. I lost count of the times I would come home from school to find her passed out. I’d have to run to the doctor’s house, no matter what time it was, to get help. It got so bad he gave me his home number to call in an emergency, but since we didn’t have a phone I never used it. Things got worse