Shooting in the Dark

kosher?’
    ‘What are you going to do with it?’
    ‘I’m a journalist. What do you think I’m going to do with it?’
    ‘It won’t help catch the guy,’ Sam told her. ‘If you publish now, we’ll never hear from him again.’
    Lorna shrugged. ‘You just answered the first question. Number two: Ms Falco is not at home. Is there anything to the rumour that she’s living at your house?’
    His eyes reflected red. You could see the violence building up inside him.
    Lorna smiled. ‘Or is she more than a house guest?’
    Sam finished his coffee and put the cup down. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking you to keep this under wraps?’
    ‘None at all, darling. It’ll be in the paper tomorrow.’
    Sam got to his feet. ‘You’re not a journalist, Lorna. You’re a fuckin’ menace.’
    She let the malice boil out through her pores, didn’t mind at all that it disfigured her. ‘And you don’t have to rely on good looks alone, Sam. You’ve got the blarney and you’re gracious too.’
     

38
     
    She watched Geordie come down the stairs with his hair uncombed, sleep still clinging to him. Barney got out of his basket, shook himself and went over to lick Geordie’s hand. Venus and Orchid both ignored him. He came over and put his arm around her shoulder and nuzzled into her neck.
    ‘Echo’s still sleeping,’ he said. ‘Did you feed her?’
    ‘Yes, I think so. I seemed to be feeding her all night. Every time I woke up she was rooting for more.’
    ‘It’s a design flaw,’ Geordie said, ‘that blokes can’t feed them as well. It’d be easier if we could take it in turns. One day on mum’s milk, next day on dad’s.’
    ‘It’d take some of the pressure off me,’ Janet agreed. ‘As it is I’m gonna have to think about giving her a supplement.’
    ‘You said breast was best,’ Geordie said. ‘The classes we went to, everybody said it was.’
    ‘I’m not changing my mind, Geordie. But I don’t have enough milk. That’s why she’s hungry all the time. We’ll have to do something.’
    He scooped muesli into a bowl and mixed in the milk. He’d started off saying he’d never use skimmed milk if he lived to be a hundred, and there he was, still in his twenties. Now, if Janet got a pint of whole-milk from the supermarket, he’d refuse to use it. Said it felt like raw fat in his mouth.
    ‘The best thing,’ he said with a mouthful of cereal, ‘would be if everybody had tits and everybody could feed babies on demand. Then Celia or Sam could have a go as well; she’d get more milk than she needed.’
    Janet laughed at the thought of Sam Turner suckling Echo. She had a mental picture of him lifting his shirt and finding the nipple, slipping it between the baby’s lips and settling back with a contented smile on his face. ‘I think she’d get more than she needed with you and me, Geordie.’
    ‘Yeah, I suppose we should keep it in the family; just you and me and Ralph.’
    ‘Not Ralph,’ Janet said. She turned away from Geordie. She opened the knife drawer and shut it again without taking anything out.
    ‘Me and you,’ Geordie said. ‘Not Ralph. It’d be great if I could feed her.’
    ‘I wouldn’t let Ralph feed her a bottle,’ Janet said. ‘I don’t want him touching her.’
    Geordie took a mouthful of muesli. He glanced across at Janet a couple of times, but she didn’t want to meet his eyes. She could feel her heart pounding away, the blood rushing around her brain. She didn’t want to say or do anything she might regret, but her self-control was tenuous.
    ‘Where is Uncle Ralph?’ Geordie said, trying to sound casual.
    ‘Where do you think? He never gets out of bed before midday.’
    ‘Yeah.’ Geordie took his bowl to the sink and rinsed it, stood it upside-down on the draining board. ‘Why don’t you have a lay down,’ he said. ‘Catch up a bit while Echo’s asleep.’
    ‘Because I don’t bloody want to. I want to do something for myself.’
    He fell quiet again. She wanted to shut him up. She wanted him to take the huff and stalk out of the house, go and talk to Sam or Marie or one of his other mates. If he stayed with her, continued to be sympathetic, accommodating, she’d spill it all, tell him about his precious brother trying to get into her pants.
    Geordie came over to her again, reached out to touch her arm, but she shrugged him off. His frustration and lack of understanding filtered into the room like mist. ‘What are you going to