A New Ulster issue 74

“He saved a little girl’s life.”

“Why doesn’t that make me feel better?” she asked. “He should be here. He promised me.

Then he was never very good at keeping his promises.”

“He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have been any of us.”

“No it couldn’t,” she replied. “It was preordained. He was always meant to die this way.

I’ve seen it a thousand times in my mind, over and over and over. I tried to stop it. Tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, till the Chief Inspector said, “It was very quick, he couldn’t have felt anything.” Then after the briefest of pauses, “ He’ll get an award for gallantry.”

“That’s right,” Heather said, “give him a medal. Give him a bloody big medal. Have it inscribed with the words I should have listened to the wife, why don’t you?” She glared at him and then turned to Terry. “For Christ sake get him out of here. Whether Luke felt much or not is neither here nor there, the result’s the same; he’s still dead. Still lying on a mortuary slab when he should be safe at home with me.”

Terry wished she would cry, the mood swings from resignation to anger worried him, he didn’t know what she’d do after they left. “Are you going to be all right on your own?”

“I’m not on my own,” Heather replied, “I still have Suzie and Tim has a father again, perhaps that’s how it should be.