Quirke 06 - Holy Orders

she had guessed what Phoebe had been thinking. “James and I always liked the same people.”
    “Did you miss him, when you went to England?” Phoebe asked.
    Sally pondered the question. “At the start I was so miserable I couldn’t sort out who or what I missed the most. But yes, I could have done with him being around, to talk to. He always listened to me, to things I was enthusiastic about or that were worrying me, and he never preached, even though he was the older one.” She frowned, and Phoebe wondered if there were tears in her eyes or if it was just the effect of the gaslight. “Have you got any brothers or sisters?” Sally asked. Her voice did not seem teary.
    “No,” Phoebe said. “I’m an only child.” It sounded strange, put like that. Why did she speak of herself as a child? But how else was she to put it? She could not have said she was an “only person” or an “only woman.” There could only be only children, it seemed. For a long time after she had found out who her real parents were—Quirke and his dead wife—she had thought of herself as an orphan; she had felt like an orphan. That had been the loneliest time of her life, but that time had passed. And now? Was she less lonely now, or more so, in a different way?
    Sally gave a little laugh. “It’s funny,” she said. “I always wanted to be an only child. I used to think it would be romantic, that I’d be like—oh, I don’t know—Jane Eyre or someone.” She paused. “ Y ou always think everyone else is having a wonderful life, don’t you. That’s one of the reasons, maybe the reason, I found out where you worked and followed you for days around the city. From the way James talked about you, you seemed the most amazing person, leading the most amazing life.”
    Phoebe laughed. “And now you’ve discovered the sad and disappointing truth, is that it?”
    But Sally’s attention had strayed, and she did not reply. Instead she asked, “Have you got a boyfriend?”
    “Yes,” Phoebe said. “His name is David, David Sinclair. He works with my father.” She heard how her voice had become solemn, as if the subject of David Sinclair warranted a certain gravity. Why was that? So many things about David puzzled her, the first one being her feelings for him.
    “Is he a doctor too?” Sally asked.
    “A pathologist, yes. Y ou must”—now she sounded to herself like a debutante or something, all breathy and bright—“you must meet him.”
    Once again Sally’s thoughts had wandered. “I keep seeing it in my mind,” she said. “Somebody hitting him and kicking him.” She turned to Phoebe with eyes that were suddenly fevered. “Why would they do such a thing? Who would want to harm poor James?” She looked at the fire again, the hissing flames. “He never hurt anyone in his life.”
    They were silent for a time. The rain had stopped, and outside too all was silent, as if the entire city were deserted. Phoebe thought of Jimmy, his little pinched, pale face, his nicotine-stained fingers, his way of pushing his hat to the back of his head like the newsmen did in the films that they had often gone to together. “ Y ou didn’t come back in time for the funeral,” she said.
    Sally gave a sad shrug. “I couldn’t face—I couldn’t face them . Mam and Dad are all right, but my brother … He’s so full of anger and outrage. I think he thinks the world was set up specially to annoy him.”
    Phoebe hesitated. “What is it that—I mean, how did you come to be so distant from them, from your family?”
    Sally put her mug on the floor beside herself and drew up her legs and put her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. The gaslight gave her face a bluish cast. “Oh, they never forgave me for going to England. I think they thought I must be pregnant. They couldn’t understand anyone wanting to leave, to get away. I don’t really blame them—they can’t see beyond the little world they grew up in.”
    “Wouldn’t you—wouldn’t you think of contacting them, now, of telling them you’re here, that you’ve come home?”
    “But I haven’t ‘come home’!” Sally said. “If they knew I was here they’d assume I was staying. But I’ll be going back. My life is there now.”
    “But if you could make peace with them? Y our parents must be brokenhearted, having lost Jimmy. Surely they’d be glad to hear from you?”
    “I considered trying to get in touch with Daddy—he was always the one I got