What about those not in their right minds? a small, chill voice in the back of her mind asked her, What if it’s a maniac waiting to rape and murder you? She pushed that thought away and remained standing where she was for what seemed a very long minute but still she could hear no signs of life. Refusing to consciously wish that Peter or any man was there to do it for her she cautiously proceeded to search the rest of her apartment, still nervous but not as frightened as she had been; she knew in her mind, if not her heart, that any burglar would have run from that scream.
‘Let’s just hope the bastard’s not deaf,’ she said loudly, and then gave a giggle that was a little too close to hysteria for comfort. But she searched the entire flat nonetheless. And found nothing but the same indescribable mess everywhere.
She returned to the living room, shaking now from nervous reaction and with the first seeds of angry horror forming. The dirty, rotten, vicious bastards! How dared they? How dared they?
And she understood for the first time why so many people compared burglary to rape. She wasn’t physically hurt but she felt violated and dirty and unsafe. And as if some gyroscope inside her was broken, leaving her disorientated and confused and close to tears. The dirty, rotten bastards! Invading her privacy, pawing through her things, stealing or smashing everything they came across. The insolence, the sheer effrontery of them! As if they had the right to do this to her, to force their way into her home! At that moment she would quite happily have voted for the death penalty for burglars. She might even have volunteered to carry out the executions.
A furtive movement in the hall made her jump and a squeak of fear escaped her suddenly tight throat, but fortunately she instantly recognized the elderly, balding man who entered the room as Brendan Kelly, one of her neighbors above. He was wearing pyjamas and a bathrobe, and he was blinking uncertainly in the bright light as he entered the living room. ‘Er, is everything all right? We thought we heard... Oh my God!’
Kate gave him a lop-sided, slightly teary smile, ‘No, I don’t think it was Him, but yes, I have had an unexpected visitor. Quite a mess, eh?’
Kelly gazed around in shocked but also fascinated horror, his eyes enormous behind his thick glasses, ‘The state of the place... Have you phoned the police?’
Kate shook her head, ‘I haven’t had time, I only just got in.’ She felt closer to tears than ever and bit her lip in anger; she was not going to cry. But a tear crept down her cheek in spite of her resolution.
The tear galvanized her neighbor into action, very much the man on the scene taking charge now that womanly weakness had been evinced.
‘I’ll call them for you,’ he said in a firm, authoritative voice, ‘And then I’m taking you upstairs for a cup of tea while we wait for them to arrive.’ He gave her a shy, timid smile at odds with his bossy manner, ‘And I’ll get the wife to make up the spare bed for you. You won’t want to stay here tonight.’
Kate shook her head, wanting to protest. Wanting to say that staying elsewhere would mean giving in to the bastards, would mean losing more than just possessions to them. But she said nothing as she immediately realized that she really didn’t want to stay there that night. And in any case it might not be safe; the bastards could come back.
She almost stopped Kelly as he went into the hall to the phone but then realized she was being foolish; if it had to be done it was best to get it over and done with. Besides, if the culprit was still in the area the Garda might even catch him. Possibly burgling someone else in the neighborhood; from her liaison with the Oxford police she knew that burglars would often hit several properties in the one night, to ensure a good haul. And let’s face it, he or they were unlikely to have gathered much loot from her.
Knowing that she should be checking to see what was missing but unable to face it just then, Kate dragged her favorite armchair upright and sank dejectedly into it. She looked around at the devastation with rising fury and, for the first time in her life, wished that she smoked; a cigarette might have helped calm her jangling nerves and shaking hands. No, on second thoughts perhaps it was just as well she didn’t smoke; if she had matches in her hand at that moment the temptation to simply torch the place and walk away might prove too strong. And it wouldn’t have been any great loss; she had not yet lived there long enough for the flat to become truly a home to her, and after this she doubted it ever would.
She shook her head slowly, in disgust and rage, but shed no more tears; they might not be there to see it but she still wouldn’t give the bastards the satisfaction of making her cry.
Chapter Six
Kate woke up slowly and reluctantly, dragging herself from the depths of sleep only with an effort. She lay and stared with unseeing eyes at the white ceiling above her head for two or three confused seconds, her mind a blank, until she realized that this was not her bed. It wasn’t even her apartment, and that thought brought the full memory of the previous night’s events crashing into her mind, bringing her fully awake and causing her to sit up abruptly.
Feeling as though she was suffering from the mother of all hangovers, she looked around at the Kelly’s blue-painted, sparsely furnished spare room as every detail of the previous night crawled through her mind with a clarity she could have lived without. So it had really happened then; it wasn’t all just a bad dream. Shit.
She slowly got out of the lumpy old double bed and looked at her watch; God Almighty, it was almost eleven o’clock! It wasn’t like her to sleep in on a school day but then, she wasn’t burgled every night either. Nor did she commonly have to sit up until almost seven in the morning trying to answer routine questions from clearly disinterested policemen. Make that bored policemen, who clearly felt that they had more important things to do, and that chasing random burglars was a waste of time and effort. The two Gardai who had eventually turned up, a good two hours after being called, hadn’t even pretended there was any hope of catching the perpetrators, or recovering her stuff.
She put on the same flimsy black dress she had been wearing the previous evening, thinking to herself; what stuff? She hadn’t hung around her apartment to wait for the police, hadn’t even thought of changing her clothes, but instead had immediately accompanied Mr. Kelly upstairs to await them on neutral ground. So she didn’t even know what was missing yet, apart from a couple of obvious absentees like her laptop and the DVD player. And she wasn’t keen to go back down there and start finding out, even though she had agreed to ring the Garda Station in Blackrock before lunch with a list of the missing items.
She opened the door and went out into the hall, where Lucy Kelly was just putting away the vacuum cleaner that had probably been the cause of her waking up. Her neighbor was a heavy, gray-haired woman in her sixties who strongly favored tweeds and sensible shoes, with whom Kate had never got beyond the “nodding and smiling in the street” stage. Until now, of course; being the victim of a crime like burglary could change your life in many unexpected ways.
‘Oh dear,’ fluttered Lucy when Kate appeared, her faded brown eyes concerned, ‘I didn’t wake you, did I?’
Kate managed a smile in spite of her mood, ‘No, of course not. It’s past time I was up anyway. I have so much to do today.’
‘Of course. But you’re not doing anything until you’ve had a nice cup of tea and something to eat. It’s like the old Royal Navy; they never sent men into battle on an empty stomach. You’re not going into battle, of course, but the principle holds true for any unpleasant duty. Once you’ve had breakfast we’ll start sorting things out together.’
Kate didn’t much care for her neighbor’s unctuous, instant sympathy and had a sudden, repellent image of Mrs. Kelly gossiping about all this with her friends, showing them all how caring and generous she was, and so ready to rise to any occasion and help out a neighbor in distress. Then she realized that she was being an ungrateful bitch, taking her frustration out on the nearest available candidate since she couldn’t reach those who truly deserved it. So she gave another, more he
art-felt smile and said, ‘That would be great, thank you. But I have a lecture at half-eleven that I’m going to miss and I really should ring the University and tell them. Could I possibly use your phone? I forgot to charge my mobile last night and the battery’s dead.’
Lucy waved a hand towards the phone mounted on the hall wall, ‘Of course! Go right ahead, I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re finished.’
She bustled off, a heavy, matronly woman who in truth did seem to be enjoying the drama just a little, leaving Kate to dial the administration office in Trinity. After several delays she finally got through to the Bursar’s secretary, a less than pleasant woman with whom Kate had clashed several times before. Kate briefly told her that she wasn’t going to be in that morning, and why, whereupon the secretary sucked in her breath and said glacially, ‘You really should give us more warning if you’re going to miss a day, you know, Ms. Bennett! There are strict procedures for unscheduled days off, as you’re perfectly aware.’
This wasn’t the morning for listening to rubbish like this but Kate managed to keep her temper. Rather than scarifying the officious hag, as was her first instinct, she instead said, in her sweetest voice, ‘I couldn’t give any notice because the bastards who broke in and destroyed my apartment didn’t give me any warning! If I had known a week ago that I was going to be burgled I could have given you plenty of notice, but unfortunately burglars don’t give a shit about you or your procedures, and they weren’t so obliging as to inform me that they were coming! Thank you so much for your sympathy and concern!’
She hung up the phone, fuming but also feeling a little better for having vented some steam. And unlike Lucy, the bursar’s secretary didn’t count as an innocent bystander. Kate was used to those close to positions of authority acting as if the authority was theirs, and out-Heroding Herod in the thrill of their proximity to power, and she had never much cared for that sort of petty bullying.
As she didn’t know where the bathroom was, and in any case disliked using other people’s facilities, she made her way into the kitchen and sat down to a cup of tea with the sympathetic Lucy. Kate would have preferred coffee but she had to admit that the hot, sweet brew was welcome on that particular morning, especially as it was accompanied by slices of hot toast covered with real butter and masses of chunky marmalade. Butter and marmalade were just two of the treats that Kate had long ago forced out of her own diet but today, she decided, was a special occasion, and as such the eating of just one of these delicious slices was justified. Perhaps even two. Dozen.
‘What are you going to do first this morning, Kate? I mean, there’s the insurance and’ -here Lucy waved one hand vaguely- ‘all sorts of things to be seen to.’
Guessing that her hostess generally left such tasks to her husband, Kate shrugged and said, ‘I suppose so, but the first thing I have to do is tidy up a bit so I can make a list of what’s missing for the police. Otherwise it won’t be easy because they really wrecked the place.’
‘Bastards!’ spat Lucy with unexpected venom, her face contorted with anger and loathing. ‘They should be horse-whipped!’
Kate felt herself warming to her even more than she had the night before, when Lucy had earned her eternal gratitude by unhesitatingly welcoming her into her home, and she replied feelingly, ‘You can say that again. I’d like to throttle the rotten shits who did it.’ She shook her head and said weakly, ‘I mean, all my stuff...’
Lucy’s sympathy was instant and genuine, ‘Oh, I know. The thought of those animals rummaging through your private things, pawing at stuff that might not be valuable but which means something to you, is enough to make you sick. To say nothing of rummaging through your knicker drawer. Smashing your furniture and bits and pieces, and messing the whole place up. Somehow that’s even worse than the stealing. Though that’s bad enough. The cheek of them, just taking your possessions as if they had a right to them, as if they weren’t yours. As if they didn’t mean anything to you. They could be presents from your family or…well, anything. And those scumbags think they can just smash their way in and ruin your home, take anything of yours they want. They should be flogged, they really should!’ She grimaced, ‘I’d never feel safe again...’
She trailed off and looked guiltily at Kate, who gave a short laugh and replied, ‘Don’t worry, you won’t upset me. I’ve already thought of all that, believe me. It probably will take a while before I feel safe on my own again, but I’ve got nowhere else to go.’
‘You can stay here,’ said Lucy instantly and firmly, nodding her head and evidently meaning every word, ‘And don’t give me any nonsense about imposing on us, either! We have no children and you can stay here as long as you want without disturbing anyone.’ Surprisingly, she winked, ‘Between you and me, I get a bit sick of looking at just Brendan’s face every night; the change will do me good. Him too, no doubt. A pretty girl about the place might make him smarten himself up a bit. When it’s just the two of you living together men become can such pigs, my dear. Lazy slobs, the lot of them, given half a chance.’
Pretty girl? God, she wished! Octogenarian, more like! Kate burst into a laugh that made her feel at least one hundred times better. Only a few minutes ago she would have believed laughter impossible, yet there she was braying like a donkey, and feeling very much the better for it. The tight, clenched fist in the pit of her stomach relaxed as she was confronted once again with the great truth that earlier traumas had forced upon her; that life goes on. No matter what. That could have been her life’s motto from childhood on, and it was just as true now as... as when other misfortunes had befallen her. Bad things happened all the time but there was good in the world too, and in people. But that was the story of her life too; no matter how bad things were, sooner or later something -or someone- would crop up to restore the little flicker of hope that made continued existence endurable. Possible, in fact.
‘Would you like some more tea, dear?’
Lucy was looking at her with motherly concern on her pale, lined face and Kate wondered suddenly if she was childless by choice. It would be a shame if she had wanted kids but been unable to have them; she seemed perfect for the role. Not like Kate’s own mother. Her mother had been a wonderful person in many ways, and dearly loved, but she had been a professional, a lawyer, and had brought a sharp, focused approach to problems that had sometimes seemed a little clinical to a distraught little girl in need of a hug. Kate would have given anything to have her mother there with her right then, but she had to admit that Lucy’s more overtly sympathetic approach had a certain comforting appeal.
Lucy repeated the question and, with a slight start, Kate shook her head, ‘Oh! Sorry, I was miles away. Er, no, I’ve had enough, thanks.’
‘Right!’ said Lucy briskly, ‘Then we’ll put on some rubber gloves and go tackle that apartment of yours! Together we’ll soon whip it back into shape.’
Kate tried to protest that she wouldn’t dream of imposing on Lucy for help with the cleaning, but she was soon shushed into silence by the older woman insisting, ‘Don’t be silly, dear, you’ll feel awful if you do it alone and I’ve nothing on for this morning. Come on, let’s get to work!’
Suddenly reluctant to go back down there at all, even accompanied, Kate hesitated before saying feebly, ‘Perhaps in a little while. I’m still pretty tired and really I should get in touch with the insurance people and...’
She trailed off as Lucy looked at her kindly but firmly, her faded brown eyes shrewder and more perceptive than Kate might have expected. ‘Now would be best, dear,’ she said, gently but in a tone that brooked no argument, ‘The longer you leave something like this the harder it’ll be to face in the long run, you know.’
‘Okay.’ Kate, wondering just how she had become ‘dear’, submitted resignedly and not without gratitude. Having Lucy affectionately bossing her around was exactly what she needed just then, and somehow made her feel warm and secure. Silver linings, she thought as they made their way down to her devastated fla
t, perhaps, sometimes, some good really does come from evil. At any rate it would be nice to think so.
Almost two backbreaking hours later the two women were tired but satisfied; the flat looked almost as it had done before the robbery. Almost, the way it had almost been her home. Several framed pictures had been ruined and had had to be thrown out -including a prized photo of Kate’s graduation from UCD, showing her flanked by her aunt and uncle- but much of the destruction was cosmetic; a lot of pictures and vases, and several pieces of Waterford crystal that had been expensive but which had not possessed any great sentimental value.
As she compiled her list for the Garda it became apparent that very little had actually been stolen; a DVD player, her laptop, her camcorder, and her briefcase. And that seemed to be it. The DVD player and camcorder mattered little, and even her MacBook -while expensive- contained only the original computer files of her books. And although it was the oldest and least valuable of her missing possessions, it was the loss of her briefcase that hurt the most. It had been her mother’s lucky case, for use in court, and was therefore a precious memento. Stealing it was a bit like stealing a piece of Kate’s childhood, of one of her few positive associations of that time. More prosaically, it had also contained the file Trevor had given her on Grainne Riordan, the file she should have spent the evening studying rather than merely skimming through before trotting off to meet Michael Riordan. And, of course, sleeping with him.
Kate quickly cut off that line of thought before it filled her mind entirely; she had enough on her plate just then without adding to her problems. However, thinking about Michael brought the realization that she was supposed to be seeing Grainne for the first time that afternoon, and with a stifled curse she looked at her watch; damn, it was almost one o’clock! She wondered briefly if she should ring and cancel but then realized that getting away from the flat for a couple of hours might be exactly what she needed.
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