I Hear the Sirens in the Street

place, that UDR base. Bit grim.”
    “I wouldn’t know. I never went there.”
    “Like I say, pretty grim. Hard job, too, I expect,” I said.
    She hacksawed off the sheep’s head and put it in a tupper-ware box. She looked at me.
    “What are you getting at, Inspector?”
    “Did Martin ever talk to you about his work?”
    “Sometimes.”
    “He was an intelligence officer. Did you know that?”
    “Of course.”
    “Did he ever talk to you about specific cases?”
    “Hardly ever. He was very discreet.”
    “He ever mention the name Woodbine, or talk about Dunmurry or the DeLorean factory?”
    “Not that I recall.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “If he did, it didn’t make an impression.”
    She finished butchering the aged ewe and I helped her bag the meat. We washed up and went inside the cottage.
    “I was baking today. You want a fifteen while I put the kettle on?”
    “Sounds delicious.”
    “Wait till you taste them. My mother was the baker.”
    “Your mother’s passed on?”
    “Aye, passed on to the Costa del Sol,” she said with a laugh. She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. She caught me looking at her. She held my gaze a second longer than she should have.
    “Its ages since I had a fifteen. How do you make them?”
    She laughed. “Well, when I say baking, that’s a bit of a fib, isn’t it? The flour’s only for rolling them on the board.”
    “What do you do?”
    “They’re so easy. Fifteen digestive biscuits, crushed, fifteen walnuts, finely chopped, fifteen maraschino cherries, fifteen coloured marshmallows, a can of condensed milk. Flour and flaked coconut. Mix everything except the coconut. Roll into a ball. Divide the ball into two and make two log rolls.”
    “And then what?”
    “Scatter a chopping board with flour and the coconut.”
    “Something about a fridge, isn’t there?”
    She smiled. “Roll the sausages in floury coconut and then wrap each log tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate for two hours. Couldn’t be simpler. My secret ingredient is Smarties or, for Harry’s friend, M&Ms, which is the American equivalent.”
    “The fifteens are for Harry too?”
    “You have to keep the landlord happy don’t you?”
    “I suppose so.”
    “They’re for a friend of his. An American lady.”
    “A rich American lady? A potential bride?”
    “I didn’t ask.”
    She handed me a plate of the treats. “I must warn you,” she said. “They’re sweet.”
    I tried one and they were way too sweet for my blood. They made your head hurt. Emma came back a minute later with tea.
    “Delicious,” I said.
    She smiled. Sipped her tea. Didn’t eat.
    She looked at the bag full of Martin’s gear.
    After a pause, she said: “You couldn’t put it in the cupboard under the stairs, could you? I don’t want to deal with it just at the moment.”
    “I forgot that you told me that you threw all Martin’s stuff out. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought this.”
    “It’s okay.”
    I put the bag in the cupboard and stood there awkwardly. “Well, I suppose I’ll head on then.”
    “Yes.”
    I cleared my throat.
    “Are you doing all right?” I asked.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Moneywise, you know?”
    “Yes. I sold a dozen spring lambs and that cleared some ofthe debts and I’m supposed to get the compensation money by the end of the month. Of course, that’s what they’ve been saying since January …”
    “Will you stay here when the money comes?”
    “I can’t afford to go anywhere else, can I?”
    “Your parents in Spain?”
    “That place? It’s the living death down there. No thanks. What would I do with my time?”
    “What do you do with your time here?”
    “That is the question.”
    Silence.
    I watched a drip burrow its way through the thatching onto the living-room floor.
    “All right, well, I suppose this is the …uh …”
    “Yes, Inspector Duffy, I suppose it is,” she said.
    I went outside.
    The Land Rover back to Carrick.
    Sea spray along the lough shore.
    Driving rain.
    Her manner hadn’t been that encouraging. In fact there was a distinct coldness near the end, and yet I couldn’t help but feel that there was something bubbling beneath the surface there.
    Chinese takeaway for dinner. Pot from the shed out back.
    I smoked the joint in the shed with the door open and the rain coming in.
    I went inside, put on Age of Plastic by The Buggles which I snapped up for 2p at a jumble sale. I made myself a pint of vodka and lime juice. I