One Night Only (169 page)

H
e
hate
d
he
r
.
H
e
reall
y
di
d
an
d
sh
e
ha
d
mad
e
n
o
bones abou
t
ho
w
sh
e
fel
t
abou
t
hi
m
too
.

He
r
brothe
r
ha
d
greete
d
he
r
a
t
th
e
doo
r
wit
h
a
light hug
.
Bria
n
wa
s
alway
s
th
e
peacemake
r
.
A
gentl
e
sou
l
who ha
d
waste
d
fa
r
to
o
muc
h
o
f
hi
s
lif
e
playin
g
refere
e
t
o
the wome
n
i
n
hi
s
life
.
Whe
n
h
e
marrie
d
Fiona
,
a
countr
y
girl
wh
o
wa
s
a
s
easygoin
g
a
s
h
e
was
,
h
e
though
t
hi
s
day
s
of argument
s
wer
e
ove
r
,
bu
t
ther
e
woul
d
neve
r
b
e
an argumen
t
lik
e
ther
e
wa
s
th
e
da
y
o
f
Raymond
’
s
funeral
.

“Mum
’
s
inside,
”
h
e
ha
d
tol
d
he
r
i
n
hi
s
soft
,
gentl
e
tone tha
t
reminde
d
Rut
h
s
o
muc
h
o
f
he
r
dad
.
Sh
e
misse
d
her dad
.
Sh
e
wa
s
alway
s
a
daddy
’
s
girl
.

Rut
h
woul
d
neve
r
forge
t
th
e
loo
k
o
f
scor
n
o
n
her mother
’
s
fac
e
whe
n
sh
e
greete
d
he
r
.
Th
e
hous
e
ha
d
been packe
d
wit
h
visitor
s
–
a
traditiona
l
Iris
h
wak
e
with neighbours
,
friend
s
an
d
relative
s
rallyin
g
roun
d
t
o
look afte
r
th
e
grievin
g
wido
w
an
d
he
r
neares
t
an
d
dearest
.

“
Y
o
u
mus
t
b
e
Ruth,
”
sai
d
a
voic
e
whic
h
wa
s
laced
wit
h
aci
d
an
d
venom
.

Th
e
roo
m
wen
t
silent
.
Rut
h
looke
d
t
o
wher
e
a
gir
l
not fa
r
fro
m
he
r
ow
n
ag
e
stood
,
he
r
eye
s
bloodsho
t
an
d
her
fac
e
puff
y
fro
m
crying
.

“
Y
es,
”
sai
d
Ruth
.
“Samantha?
”

Rut
h
extende
d
a
han
d
bu
t
th
e
girl
,
a
chubb
y
blonde wh
o
grippe
d
a
se
t
o
f
rosar
y
bead
s
tightl
y
i
n
he
r
hands,
didn
’
t
retur
n
th
e
gesture
.
Instead
,
sh
e
glare
d
a
t
Rut
h
with
glass
y
gree
n
eye
s
an
d
the
n
sh
e
spoke
.

“Wh
y
ar
e
yo
u
here?
”
sh
e
asked
.

Rut
h
wa
s
stunne
d
an
d
sh
e
looke
d
t
o
he
r
mothe
r
for help
.
Sh
e
coul
d
fee
l
al
l
eye
s
o
n
he
r
a
s
sh
e
stoo
d
adjacent t
o
th
e
coffi
n
o
f
a
ma
n
sh
e
deteste
d
wit
h
al
l
he
r
might
.
She
shouldn
’
t
hav
e
come
.
I
t
wa
s
n
o
secre
t
tha
t
sh
e
blamed Raymon
d
Dillo
n
fo
r
th
e
break-u
p
o
f
he
r
happ
y
home
.
But
he
r
mothe
r
wa
s
he
r
mothe
r
,
wasn
’
t
she
?
Sh
e
wasn
’
t
here fo
r
Raymond
.
Sh
e
wa
s
her
e
fo
r
he
r
mothe
r
.

“
I
–
I
wante
d
t
o
pa
y
m
y
respect
s
t
o
th
e
dead,
”
sh
e
lied
an
d
Samanth
a
gav
e
a
fak
e
laugh
.

“Respect?
”
sh
e
said
.
“
Y
o
u
wouldn
’
t
kno
w
th
e
meaning o
f
th
e
word
!
Y
o
u
ha
d
n
o
respec
t
fo
r
m
y
fathe
r
whe
n
he wa
s
aliv
e
s
o
wh
y
woul
d
yo
u
clai
m
t
o
respec
t
hi
m
when
he
’
s
dead
?
Y
ou’r
e
to
o
late
,
Ruth
.
H
e
tol
d
m
e
al
l
about
you
!
Wh
y
don
’
t
yo
u
g
o
bac
k
an
d
craw
l
int
o
whateve
r
sewer
y
o
u
cam
e
ou
t
of?
”