Still Midnight

It had a button for pushing warm water through coffee grinds and a nozzle for frothing milk. Crystyl pressed buttons, trying to decipher the symbols. Getting nervous she opened a small door in the machine and took out the water tub, yellowed because it had never been used. ‘Do the beans go in here?’

As Alex watched Crystyl a burst of compassion for the silly woman came from nowhere. ‘Look, never mind coffee, I’ll have a cup of tea if you’re having one.’

‘But I’m not.’ Crystyl looked up, over Alex’s shoulder and her face brightened. ‘Hi, darlin’.’

Alex hadn’t heard Da

‘What you doing here?’ he said, trying not to smile.

‘Visiting,’ she replied, chewing her cheek so that she didn’t either.

‘At seven thirty in the morning?’

‘I’m on nights, on my way home. Wanted to see you before ye set off for the day.’

He pursed his mouth. ‘Easy to miss each other.’

‘It is.’ They nodded away from each other, both wishing in their separate ways that this was easier.

‘Baby?’ he asked.

‘Not recently,’ she answered quickly, making a joke to deflect the question. She reminded herself to breathe in. They smiled away from each other. ‘Nah, he’s fine. Good. Brought ye this.’

She set the bottle of single malt on the kitchen counter and he sniggered at it, touching the lid lightly with a finger. ‘Thoughtful.’

Confused, Crystyl looked from one to the other. Da

Alex smiled away from him. ‘I’m always that. Happy birthday, Da

‘I missed yours.’

‘Don’t care,’ she said honestly.

Crystyl gasped and brushed past Alex to Da

Da

‘Aye.’

He understood why and it hurt him a little, she could tell.

Crystyl trotted out to the lift door on her tiptoes, ponytail swishing ahead as they followed her. She stopped in the same place she had been in when Alex had arrived, and let them pass her. She must think she was well lit there, that whoever was looking out from the lift would get the best view of her from this angle and would perhaps remember her fondly while he was shutting a car door on someone’s fingers during the day.

‘Bye, da’lin’.’ She blew a kiss.

Seeming rather tired Da

Mirrors on all four walls threw their reflections back at them: both tall, blonde, both thirty-four, both with their father’s baby dimpled cheeks. They looked sweet on both of them now, babyish, but they knew from their father that ageing dimples sagged into gashes. Their father looked as if he’d been in a fight with a knifeman plagued by a need for symmetry. Apart from that they didn’t look alike: Alex took after her mother’s side for eyes and chin, and Da

Three months between them. Their father was a charmer in his day, and had all of his many families concurrently. Alex’s mother was naive and loved him with a passion that congealed when the baby arrived. Da

Alex and Da

People didn’t move schools in those days. Da

She was glad when Da

She was lucky never to have had the McGrath name, she realised later. Her mother always wanted it for her but her father wouldn’t admit she was his. Somehow that mattered then. If she’d had his name the police admissions board might have worked out where she was from, who she belonged to and not let her into the force.

Neither spoke until they were three floors down.

‘I came to ask ye about someone,’ said Alex, taking out her mobile. She flicked through the pictures until she reached the photo she had taken in the road the night before. Standing behind police tape was Omar Anwar, as clear as she could get him, smoking and looking sorry. She showed it to Da

Da

‘No.’

‘Lan Gallagher go’ married last month.’

Morrow smiled. ‘Who in the name of God’d marry her?’

‘Well, ye know,’ he shrugged, ‘for every ugly there’s a bugly.’

She smiled. Charm that sagged into gashes. That’s how the McGrath men got you.

Before the doors were open properly Da

The door led into a bare concrete corridor radiating damp with cold, brutal strip lights. She turned the corner and found Da

Disappointed at having to acknowledge who Da

Alex found it strange, standing so close together but not touching. She could feel Da

Da

‘I know. Is he… you know…’ To another policeman she’d say ‘dirty’ but she could hardly say that to Da

He helped her out. ‘Into anything?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Nut, good family, Daddy runs a twenty-four-hour shop. Two boys went to St Als, both done degrees I think.’

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘The young one did law.’

‘Right?’

Watching him make a mental note, she wished she hadn’t been so specific. Da

‘Used tae run with the Young Shields when he was a wee guy. Got out of it, haven’t seen him about for years.’