The Triumph of Katie Byrne (6 page)

Maureen Byrne glanced around the family kitchen, trying to draw a measure of comfort and reassurance from the familiar.

Everything was in its given place, as it had always been here. The old brass clock ticked away on the mantelpiece, the Victorian lamps cast pools of warming light, and the fire burned brightly in the great stone hearth.

Even the air was redolent with the delicious, mingled smells of the food she had cooked this afternoon…Irish stew, breadcakes and a big apple tart. Only this afternoon, she repeated under her breath, but it seems eons away now, so much has happened in the last few hours.

For all its familiarity, the kitchen was no longer the same to her. It had changed, and it was different because pain and heartache, and so many other emotions, hung heavily on the air, dimming somehow its warm glow, cosiness and rustic beauty.

Sighing to herself, Maureen looked at each member
of her family grouped around the table, saying little, keeping their troubling thoughts to themselves, their faces etched in sadness. Worry and concern clouded her clear blue eyes. None of them was bothering to eat, not touching the stew she had served, not even Fin, and she understood the reason why. Not a morsel had passed her own mouth, and she had put her fork down a moment ago, knowing she had no appetite whatsoever.

The events of this terrible day had overwhelmed Maureen, overwhelmed all of the Byrnes. They had become submerged in the violence of Denise’s murder and the vicious attack on Carly, and by the tragedy and sorrow of such horrendous events. These had been stunning and frightening in their suddenness, their unexpectedness, and shock still lingered in their eyes. Chaos had invaded their ordinary, uneventful, protected lives and turned them upside down. Nothing would ever be the same again, none of
them
would be the same, Maureen was absolutely convinced of that.

Her keen, perceptive eyes settled on her daughter. Katie concerned her the most, because she was so intimately tied to Carly and Denise, her friends since childhood, and her boon companions growing up. Katie’s eyes were red-rimmed from crying and her face was puffy and swollen. How to help her, Maureen wondered desperately, how to help her get through this awful
tragedy, how to get Niall and Fin through it. And Michael and herself, for they were as deeply affected and disturbed by it as their children were.

Suddenly, Maureen’s nostrils were assailed by the fragrant scent of the coffee which had finally brewed. And instantly, she stood up, lifted her plate, and said to them briskly, ‘Let’s have a quick mug of coffee and then get off to the hospital. Nobody’s going to eat supper tonight, none of us are hungry, and I for one can’t swallow a mouthful. I’m sure you’re all feeling the same. Come on, Katie, Fin, help me to clear the table. Many hands make light work.’

‘Yes, we should get going,’ Michael agreed, looking at his watch. ‘It’s ten to nine already.’

Katie rose, took her plate and Niall’s, and walked over to the counter at the other end of the kitchen. The garbage pail was concealed in a cupboard under the counter, and once she had opened the door and pulled the pail out, she and Fin scraped the plates clean. Then Katie went back to fetch her father’s plate, and the bread basket; Maureen poured steaming hot coffee into five mugs, and Fin and Katie helped her carry them back to the table.

But after only a few sips of coffee, Katie stood up again. ‘I’m going to wash my hands and face, and get my coat, Mom,’ she muttered, ‘if you don’t mind.’

‘You’re excused, Katie,’ Maureen replied.

‘We’d also better go and get ready, too,’ Niall said,
looking down at Finian, and then rising himself. ‘If you’ll excuse us, Mom.’

Maureen inclined her head.

Niall hurried out, Finian close on his heels. ‘I’ll get the jeep out of the garage, Dad,’ Niall said over his shoulder, and then stepped through into the back hall.

‘Thanks, son, I’ll be there in a minute,’ Michael answered, and turned to Maureen. ‘We’ll clean up everything else later, when we get back. But we should get off now. I’m worried about Carly’s mother. Janet must be beside herself, and I’m sure she’s all alone at the hospital.’

‘She probably is,’ Maureen responded and rose. Looking at his drawn face, shadowed by worry, she felt a fleeting pang of guilt. When Michael had arrived home with Katie and Niall in tow, a short while ago, she had insisted they eat before going to the hospital, and would brook no argument. ‘You need something warm inside you, some food to keep up your strength,’ she had pointed out, immediately serving the stew.

At first, Michael demurred. He had wanted to drive them over to New Milford at once, without further delay, and Katie had agreed; Maureen had managed to persuade them to eat first. But he was right, she acknowledged to herself now. The food hadn’t interested anyone, least of all herself, and in the end they had wasted valuable time hanging around the kitchen looking morose.

‘I’m sorry, Michael, I was wrong. I should have listened to you earlier,’ Maureen murmured. ‘Forcing food on all of you was silly, was of no purpose. And if I hadn’t done so we could have been there by now.’

Michael got to his feet, and his response was a quick, warm smile. Then gently he led her out to the back hall to get her coat.

Maureen sniffed the cold air, walking along with Michael to the jeep, which Niall had parked outside the garage. She lifted her head and looked up at the ink-black sky, sparsely littered with but a few misty stars tonight, and felt the first drops of cold rain on her upturned face.

Michael helped her into the back seat, where she usually sat with Katie and Fin, and just as he was closing the door a flash of bright white lightning streaked through the sky, and thunder rumbled far away, like distant cannons poised in the heavens.

‘There’s a storm brewing,’ she said to Michael, once he was settled in the driver’s seat, and she shivered and drew her quilted coat around her slender body.

Looking at her over his shoulder, Michael replied, ‘I guess so, honey. But we must stop by the Matthewses’ after we’ve been to the hospital, storm or no storm. They must be devastated, and I’m only sorry I couldn’t get them on the phone earlier.’ He wanted to help them in whatever way he could.

‘Perhaps Peter and Lois are at Ted’s, you know how
close they are,’ Maureen ventured, and then she stopped abruptly as the door opened and first Katie, and then Fin, scrambled into the jeep. Maureen slid along the seat to make room for them, and once Niall had jumped inside next to his father in the front, Michael turned on the ignition and backed out of the drive.

Katie immediately bunched up to her mother, and put her arm through hers, wanting the comfort and security of her closeness.

Maureen was well aware of Katie’s neediness tonight, and it was understandable. All of the girl’s defences were down, and she was still in shock, vulnerable and hurting, and wanting to be with her parents, her mother in particular.

No one spoke.

Michael drove towards New Preston and lovely little Lake Waramaug, heading for Route 202 which would take them directly to New Milford and the hospital.

Usually when they were in the jeep together they chattered and laughed, told silly jokes, and sometimes they sang their favourite songs, for they were all musically talented. Niall, in particular, had a wonderful voice that made every one of them stop singing the instant he opened his mouth, so they could listen to him. Fin said Niall had missed his way and ought to be in musicals, or a pop star, but they just laughed at Fin, most especially Niall.

But this evening the jeep was quiet and sad, the baleful silence engendered by shock and worry. And fear, of course, on Maureen’s part. She knew, deep down within herself, that she was terribly afraid for Katie’s safety, although she had not voiced this to Michael, nor to Katie herself, as yet.

Maureen Byrne was nobody’s fool, and she knew there was a deadly killer out there, on the loose. Perhaps he was some kind of madman, a psycho.

And how did they know that this psycho wouldn’t seek out Katie next? Perhaps he had intended to kill all three girls, but had been cheated out of one. Yes, there was still one left to kill. Her Katie. Her beloved only daughter. Maureen’s mouth went dry and there was a hollowness in the pit of her stomach as she contemplated the horrendous possibilities.

Such dire and troubling thoughts appalled Maureen, but she knew she must not push them to one side. Common sense told her she must deal with the situation in a direct manner, discussing it with Katie, as well as her husband. Despite her daughter’s feyness, her artistic turn of mind, her innocence, and lack of experience of life, she did happen to have a practical side to her nature. This trait had always pleased Maureen, reassured her that her daughter had good judgement, and that this would help her to make the right choices in life.

It now struck Maureen that Katie would be the first
one to understand that she must be careful, that she must be street-smart, and not put herself at risk. Instantly, this realization brought a bit of relief, but she would have a proper talk with her about everything later, that was essential. At this moment, though, Carly’s condition, and the seriousness of her injuries were uppermost in everyone’s minds, and to discuss anything else would appear horribly selfish.

As if zeroing in on her mother’s thoughts, Katie leaned closer to Maureen, and said, in such a low voice it was almost a whisper, ‘Do you think Carly’s going to die, Momma?’

Maureen turned to look at Katie, and then she put an arm around her daughter’s shoulder and brought her closer.

‘I hope not, mavourneen. But we must be honest with ourselves, accept the seriousness of her injuries, not push them under the rug because they frighten us. ‘Tis important we face them. Head injuries of this nature can be fatal. On the other hand, they may be superficial, not as serious as we’ve been led to believe. The best thing is to be positive, and believe that Carly is going to get better. We’re also going to pray that she’s as good as new, not impaired in any way.’

Katie sat bolt-upright. ‘Mom, I hadn’t thought about that! Oh God,
brain damage.
Carly could end up…a vegetable.’ An involuntary shiver shot through the seventeen-year-old girl, and she squeezed her eyes tightly
shut, suddenly more than ever afraid for her dearest friend.

Maureen took hold of Katie’s hand, and said, ‘Try not to worry, Katie, darlin’. And don’t forget what I’ve forever drummed into you…there’s nothing worse than anticipatory despair, ‘tis debilitating, for one thing, and a waste of precious time for another. So let’s not start anticipating anything. Let’s hold positive thoughts, and hope that Carly’s going to be her old self in no time at all. And we must be there for her as much as we can.’

‘Yes, Mom, we must. We’ll all rally round for Carly,’ Katie swiftly asserted, her natural courage coming to the fore.

‘She could end up in a coma like that woman Sunny von Bulow,’ Finian said, leaning forward around Katie, so he could look at his mother through his thick glasses. ‘And
she’s
never going to come out of it.’

‘Be quiet!’ Maureen hissed, waving her finger reprovingly at her youngest child. She never knew what he was going to come out with.

‘There are a few press people over by the door,’ Michael said to them as he drove up to New Milford Hospital and parked the jeep at the kerb. ‘But they don’t know who we are, or our involvement, so we’ll just walk in quietly. Don’t look at them, especially you, Fin. And all of you, stick close to me.’

‘We will, Dad,’ Finian promised, sounding excited.

‘Come on then, let’s go!’ Maureen said. Quickly taking charge, she opened the door, got out, then waited for Fin and Katie to alight from the jeep. She immediately took hold of Fin’s hand, even though he wasn’t too happy about this, considering it babyish. He struggled; she held him.

The Byrne family, huddled together, went through the front door of the hospital in a tight-knit little group. Once inside, Michael walked over to the desk where a nurse was on duty; the others trailed along, stood waiting patiently behind him.

‘Good evening,’ Michael said.

The nurse glanced up at him, half smiled, nodded.

‘We’re friends of Mrs Smith,’ he explained. ‘Mrs Janet Smith. She’s here because of her daughter, Carly, who’s in intensive care.’

‘Yes,’ the nurse replied, and shuffled some papers on the desk.

‘How is Carly? Do you know?’

‘About the same, so I understand.’

‘We’d like to see Mrs Smith, and Carly, if that’s at all possible.’

‘Can I have your name, please?’

‘I’m Michael Byrne. From Malvern. This is Mrs Byrne…’ As he spoke, Michael turned, took hold of Maureen’s arm and brought her forward. ‘And my children,’ he added, indicating the trio alongside.

The nurse peered at them all over her spectacles, and then she looked down at one of the pieces of paper on the desk, as if she were checking something out.

After a few more minutes without any kind of response, Michael, growing impatient, said, ‘Can we go and find Mrs Smith?’

‘You don’t have to
find
her,’ the nurse replied. ‘She’s in the second waiting room, down that corridor.’ She spoke somewhat grudgingly and looked ill at ease.

Katie at once noticed this and stepped forward, saying as she did, ‘Hi, Mrs Appleby! Don’t you remember me? Katie Byrne. I go to school with Florence.’

The nurse studied Katie for a moment, and when recognition finally dawned she knew exactly who Katie was, and exclaimed, ‘You’re that good little actress I’ve seen in the school plays and concerts! The friend of Carly and Denise.’ Nurse Appleby leaned over the desk, and dropping her voice, added, ‘Terrible thing about the murder, wasn’t it?’

Katie drew back, turning cold inside, and said nothing.

Michael took hold of Katie’s arm and, regarding the nurse, he smiled at her with great cordiality, and said in his most charming voice, ‘Thanks very much, Nurse Appleby. We’ll go and see Mrs Smith.’

They found their way to the second waiting room, halfway down the very long corridor.