The Last Lost Girl

by Maria Hoey

  Eddie shook his head.

  “But you found out,” said Jacqueline.

  “Someone told me they’d seen her down at the river. She was with that guy from the carnival and they were kissing. I went and saw for myself.” Eddie’s hand crossed his face, briefly obscuring his eyes. “So I drove over to your house to have it out with Lilly. She denied it, but I could tell she didn’t really care that I’d found out. All she cared about was if I was still going to call for her so she could go to that dance. She wanted to be in that Beauty Queen Final thing, be with that guy. She said if I didn’t take her, your father wouldn’t let her go. Needless to say, I told her that was her problem not mine. I said I wouldn’t be calling for her because I wasn’t going to the dance, that I wasn’t going to be made a fool of any longer. I think I threatened to tell your father about the carnival guy too. And then I drove off and left her standing there.”

  “And almost ran me over while you were at it,” she said.

  “Were you there?” Eddie seemed only mildly surprised. “I don’t remember that. Anyway I ended up going to the dance after all. I wasn’t planning to, but I found some booze at home and the more I drank the sorrier I felt for myself. I started thinking about Lilly and that guy together and it made me feel angry. I decided to go after all, so I got in the car and drove down to the club grounds. It was pretty late at that stage though, about midnight, and things were starting to wind down. I had a look inside the marquee tent but Lilly wasn’t there and I couldn’t see the carnival guy either but –”

  “Luca,” said Jacqueline, “his name was Luca.”

  “Right, well, he was outside in the carnival part of the field with a gang of women hanging off his arms but none of them was Lilly. So I decided she probably hadn’t been allowed to go to the dance after all and I decided to head off home again. I was pulling out into the road when I saw Mick Conroy. I stopped and asked him if he’d seen Lilly around and he told me he’d seen her about an hour before, walking toward the estuary.” Eddie sat back in his chair again. “But you know all this already, Jacqueline – it was in my witness statement.”

  “I was eleven years old, remember? In any case, no-one saw your statement, because it never went to court.”

  “Because there was no charge, Jacqueline, and a lot of people gave statements. But I made no secret of what was in mine. And I’m sure the Gardaí told your father what I had said – so you would have heard him talk about it.” He looked at her. “Seems to me you were pretty much always there, listening, weren’t you, Jacqueline?”

  Jacqueline held his gaze but did not reply.

  “But I get it,” said Eddie. “I get that you would want to ask me face to face, adult to adult. The only thing that surprises me is that it took you this long. I’ll finish the story, will I?”

  He didn’t wait for a reply. “I drove down toward the estuary and I met Lilly coming toward me. She was alone. She was walking in the middle of the road but she moved over to the side as I drove up. She bent down and peered in. She said, ‘Go away, Sexy Sexton, I don’t want you.’” Eddie smiled wanly.

  “And then what?” said Jacqueline.

  “Then I asked her what she’d been doing down at the estuary – it was pretty obvious she’d been drinking and I couldn’t help wondering who’d given her the drink, who she’d been with. Lilly said it was none of my business, that maybe she’d been planning to run away to sea, something silly like that, I could never remember exactly. And then she said, ‘Anyway, don’t speak to me like that – I’m a Beauty Queen now, you know.’ She seemed to think that was very funny. She started laughing and then she began walking again. I drove a bit down the road until I found somewhere to turn the car and then I caught her up. I slowed down again and asked her if she wanted a lift home – by this time I was actually worried about her – she kept wandering into the middle of the road – she really was drunk.”

  “You’d been drinking yourself,” said Jacqueline. “You said so.”

  “I know that, but I’d never seen Lilly drunk before that. I tried to tell her that she shouldn’t be walking by herself in that state, that she’d get herself knocked over. And that was when she said, ‘You know, you are really a very nice boy, Sexy Sexton – much too nice for me.’” Eddie was silent for a moment and sat staring at the ceiling. “So then I offered her a lift again and she said no again and that was when I drove off and left her there. I left her there and I have to live with that, because maybe if I hadn’t … I thought about stopping the car just past the entrance to the club grounds and waiting to see if she went back to the carnival. Back to,” he met Jacqueline’s eye, “to Luca, but then I decided I was better off not knowing. I saw Mick Conroy along the road again and I stopped and picked him up and ended up going back to his gaff and crashing there for the night.”

  “Why didn’t you go home to your own house?” said Jacqueline.

  “My folks were away. I didn’t fancy the idea of being on my own in an empty house and Mick asked me, so I went.”

  “Eddie Sexton,” said Jacqueline, “did you harm my sister Lilly?”

  “Jesus Christ, no, Jacqueline!” He straightened up. “I swear to God I never laid a hand on her. Do you actually, really believe I did?”

  “So why did you lie to begin with? When my dad called to your house that day?”

  “You mean the day after the dance? But I didn’t know anything had happened to Lilly then, did I? And when it came down to it, I didn’t want to get her into trouble. And, I’ll admit it, I didn’t particularly want to tell your father I’d left his daughter alone on the estuary road in the middle of the night. I should have told him straight off, I knew I should, just like I should have given the police my statement right away. But, in the end, I told them everything.”

  “You certainly took your time about doing it,” said Jacqueline.

  “I know I did,” said Eddie, “but you know how it is. You keep shtum about something you shouldn’t have, then time passes and the longer it goes the harder it is to tell the truth.” He got up suddenly and walked to the window. “I didn’t have to tell anyone, you know – nobody saw me with Lilly on the estuary road. Or if they did, they never came forward.”

  “You couldn’t be sure of that,” said Jacqueline. “And what about Mick Conroy?”

  Eddie turned back to her. “Mick had gone when I decided to drive down to the estuary to see if Lilly was there.”

  “And you never told him about it?”

  “No, I didn’t. We didn’t talk about Lilly at all that night. We talked about football and snooker and anything at all except your sister. Mick was a pal – he could see I was upset and he asked no questions. We just got drunk together – his folks were away too – and then we crashed in the sitting room. But that wasn’t the reason I gave the statement, Jacqueline. It wasn’t because I was afraid that someone had seen me and would say something. I did it because it was on my mind the whole time, eating me up. And so I told my old man and –”

  “And he kindly accompanied you to the Garda station,” said Jacqueline. “Did they lock you up for two nights and knock you around, by any chance?”

  Eddie looked at her in obvious bemusement. “No, of course they didn’t. You’ve lost me, Jacqueline – what are you on about?”

  “Nothing,” said Jacqueline. “Forget it.”

  Eddie came back and sat down. “Jacqueline, I am guilty of leaving Lilly on that road that night and I take full responsibility for that – but that’s it.” He put his hands to his thinning hair. “Look, what’s the point of going over all of this again anyway? I nearly drove myself into a madhouse trying to make sense of it back then.”

  “You went off to England pretty quickly afterwards,” said Jacqueline, “and you gave up medicine – why was that?”

  “I went to England to finish my studies. I’d never really wanted to be a doctor – that was my grandfather’s dream not mine. He hadn’t managed to force my father to be a doctor and now he was tr
ying it with me, but I’d decided I wanted to be a pharmacist. He was putting the pressure on so I went to England to get away from that. And yes, I’ll admit it, I wanted to get away from the memory of what had happened with Lilly too, but –”

  There was a gentle tap on the door. “Eddie, Jacqueline,” said Gayle, “I don’t like to disturb you, but Eddie needs to be going if Alison is to get home at a reasonable hour tonight.”

  “Okay, sweetheart,” said Eddie, “I’ll be right out.” He looked at Jacqueline. “I’m sorry but I’ll have to go. And I don’t know what else I can tell you anyway.”

  “You’d better go,” said Jacqueline. “Alison will be waiting for you.

  Chapter 45

  1976

  Detective Gerry’s car is parked in front of the house when Jacqueline comes home from school. In the kitchen Detective Gerry and the Other One are sitting at the table drinking tea and eating Rich Tea biscuits.

  “Detective O’Sullivan has some more questions he needs to ask you,” says Jacqueline’s mother. “Sit down there now like a good girl.”

  Jacqueline sits down.

  Detective Gerry smiles at her over the top of his blue-and-white striped mug and pushes the plate of biscuits towards her. “Want one?”

  Jacqueline takes one and Detective Gerry puts his mug down and opens his notebook. He takes out his pen.

  “Jacqueline, did Lilly ever seem unhappy to you?”

  Jacqueline nods her head – her mouth is full of biscuit.

  “Don’t nod, Jacqueline,” says her mother.

  Detective Gerry leans in a little closer. “She did seem unhappy?”

  The hairs on the back of his hand are red but golden too and Jacqueline wonders whether, if he grew a beard, he would look like Henry the Eighth. She is reading Murder Most Foul and right now she wishes she could go upstairs and bury her head in it instead of answering questions about Lilly.

  “Only about not being allowed to go to the marquee dances,” she says.

  “And did Lilly ever talk about running away from home or anything like that?”

  Jacqueline nods her head again quickly and her mother looks up from the cup she is holding in both hands.

  “When – when did she say that?” she asks.

  “When Daddy wouldn’t let her go to the marquee dances, Lilly said she was going to run away.”

  Detective Gerry nods his head now and smiles, but he does not write anything down. He’s disappointed, Jacqueline thinks, and she wishes she could tell him something that would please him.

  “Was Lilly frightened of anybody, Jacqueline?” asks Detective Gerry.

  “I don’t think so.” Jacqueline looks down at her shoes. There are scuffs and scratches on them now and they don’t look so new. “Only … maybe …”

  “Maybe what, Jacqueline?” Detective Gerry is leaning in closer again.

  “Speak up, Jacqueline,” says her mother.

  “Slinky Quinn gave her the creeps,” says Jacqueline.

  Detective Gerry and the Other One look at each other.

  Jacqueline’s mother says, “Jacqueline, do you mean Regina’s daddy?”

  Jacqueline nods her head.

  “She’s talking about Tommy Quinn.” Jacqueline’s mother puts her cup on the table next to the tea-caddy.

  The tea-caddy once belonged to Jacqueline’s granny: it is black and red and gold and it has a picture on it of a fat man with a ponytail. He is lying on a pile of cushions with a row of girls dressed in kimonos walking toward him. The girls are carrying trays of things for making tea and, every time Jacqueline looks at it, she thinks he will never get his tea.

  Detective Gerry is writing something down in his notebook. “Good girl, Jacqueline,” he says. “Now, do you have any idea why Slinky – why Mr Quinn gave Lilly the creeps?”

  “Because of the way he looked at her.”

  “Is that what Lilly said? That it was because of the way he looked at her?”

  Jacqueline nods her head.

  “What way did he look at Lilly, Jacqueline?”

  Jacqueline shrugs her shoulders, “Weird,” she says.

  “Was there any other reason?” asks Detective Gerry.

  Jacqueline nods again.

  Her mother shouts, “Jacqueline Brennan, will you answer the questions and stop nodding your head!”

  Jacqueline shouts back, “I don’t know! Ask Gayle, why don’t you?”

  “Why, Jacqueline?” asks Detective Gerry. “What does Gayle know?”

  “I don’t know, she wouldn’t tell me,” says Jacqueline. “She would only tell Lilly. All I know is that Slinky Quinn made her cry.”

  Jacqueline’s mother gets up from her chair and goes out of the kitchen.

  Jacqueline can hear her in the hall loudly calling up to Gayle.

  “Gayle, come down here now, please!”

  Detective O’Sullivan says, “Good girl, Jacqueline – you did the right thing in telling us about this.”

  Jacqueline’s mother comes back with Gayle. Jacqueline sees that her arm is around Gayle’s shoulders.

  “Gayle, I want you to tell Detective O’Sullivan how Mr Quinn made you cry,” she says.

  “I don’t want to tell,” says Gayle, and she starts to cry.

  “There’s no need to get upset, Gayle,” says Detective Gerry. “Just tell me in your own words.”

  Gayle looks down at the floor. “It’s disgusting. He said, he said I was to let him know if … if I was ever stuck for a bit of sex or anything.”

  Jacqueline’s mother puts her hand to her mouth.

  Detective Gerry says, “Who said this to you, Gayle?”

  “Slinky Quinn did.” There are tears running down Gayle’s face.

  “This is Mr Thomas Quinn of Beechlawns Estate?” Detective Gerry is writing in his notebook.

  “Yes, Slinky Quinn – Tommy Quinn,” says Gayle.

  “Was there a witness to this incident, Gayle?”

  “No, I was on my own.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me or your daddy about this, Gayle?” says Jacqueline’s mother.

  “I told Lilly and she said it was nothing. She said that I wasn’t to mind him, that Slinky Quinn was always saying things like that to her.”

  “Filthy little man,” says Jacqueline’s mother. “Frank was right about him.”

  “Right about what?” said Detective Gerry.

  “Frank has always said there was something not right about Tommy Quinn.”

  “He says he’s a weasel,” says Jacqueline. “And Slinky Quinn was hiding in the bushes when I was swimming in the river – I only saw him when I came out of the water.”

  “When was this?” says Detective Gerry.

  “The day of the Festival Queen Dance,” says Jacqueline.

  “Why did you never tell me that?” says her mother.

  Jacqueline shakes her head. “I don’t know, but I told you now.”

  “You should have told me when it happened,” says her mother.

  Jacqueline thinks that it is just one more thing she has done wrong, one more thing to make her feel sad. Sad and bad.

  “What happened after you saw Tommy Quinn in the bushes, Jacqueline?” says Detective Gerry.

  “Nothing happened,” says Jacqueline. “He just went away and then I went home too.”

  “Did anything like that ever happen before or since,” says Detective Gerry. “I mean did you ever notice Mr Quinn watching you? Did he ever say anything to you, anything inappropriate – that is to say, anything he should not have said to you, Jacqueline?”

  “No, just that I’m getting as good-looking as my sister,” says Jacqueline. She looks at Gayle. “I think he meant Lilly.”

  “Can I go now, please?” says Gayle.

  “Just one more thing, Gayle,” says Detective Gerry. “Are you aware that Tommy Quinn ever watched Lilly, followed her, accosted her, anything of that nature?”

  “He said things to her,” says Gayle. “She told me he did but I
don’t think he ever followed her or watched her. She never said so if he did. But I don’t think Lilly minded Slinky Quinn, very much. She told me just to ignore him. But I don’t think it’s that easy. Maybe it was for Lilly but not for me.”

  Detective Gerry tells Gayle she can go and Jacqueline watches her leave the room with their mother’s arm around her shoulders.

  Detective Gerry smiles at Jacqueline and tells her again that she is a good girl. The Other One smiles at her too but he says nothing.

  “Did you not wonder why she’d go baby-sitting in her new shoes and her blue dress?”

  “Leave the child alone, Stella,” says Daddy. “How many times does she have to tell you? She had her head in a book – it’s not her fault.”

  “I know whose fault it is,” says Jacqueline’s mother.

  Daddy puts the paper down. He gets up slowly and goes out of the room. Gayle slips her hand into her mother’s. Jacqueline looks at them sitting side by side on the sofa, then she gets up and goes into the kitchen.

  Through the window, she can see Daddy walking down the garden. She wishes she could go after him and ask him to take her up the fields. She thinks about all those mornings long ago when they would set out: her, Daddy, Lilly and Gayle walking single file under the trees in the orchard and out through the gap into the meadow. Sometimes the mist was so thick it was easy for her to pretend that they were walking in the clouds. By the time they reached the wooden bridge, the mist would have lifted and the sun come out and beaded the grass so that it sparkled under their feet. Then they followed the river up to Beech Row where the trees were twisted giants and the woods smelled of wild garlic. Once, they startled a heron on the bend of the river and the great bird took to the sky, faster than seemed possible, its long neck stretched, its legs sticking out behind and its wings beating the sound of its panic. But Daddy likes to go up the fields alone now. Jacqueline keeps watch until he has disappeared among the branchless apple trees.

  Chapter 46

  Afterwards

  Shortly after Eddie left, Gayle came in with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Jacqueline noticed her face was flushed and that one glass already contained wine.