A Dream of Death by Ralph Riegel

Author:Ralph Riegel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gill Books

There are moments I do not believe at all. There is something totally unjust and abnormal about parents surviving their children. I know you will say I am biased because I was her mother, but Sophie really did have all the [best] qualities. She loved life, she was gay and pretty. She loved meeting people and loved nature. She spoke to everyone. In Ireland, the people we met told us, ‘She was like one of us.’ But it is still very difficult to talk about.

There were times it was difficult to witness at close hand the obvious grief and pain etched on the faces of the elderly couple. Over the years, many members of the Cork media had got to know them and were touched by their kindness and generosity. The couple also went to great pains to thank the gardaí locally for the support they had shown them during their various trips, especially Superintendent Liam Horgan of Bantry Garda Station, who invariably met Georges and Marguerite Bouniol each time they visited and ensured they had whatever liaison support they required.

A few years earlier, after a press conference with the family at Cork Airport, I had decided it would be worth attending a special candlelit vigil at Toormore that had been planned by the family. That evening was dark, damp and grim. Standing on the bleak hillside at Toormore, waiting for the event to begin around 8 p.m., I was surprised to be approached by Mr Gazeau, Sophie’s uncle. It was, he said, a cold evening and he asked if I would like to come into the house for a hot drink and a seat by the fire.

I politely declined, not wanting to intrude on a private family gathering, at which point I was told that if I didn’t walk up the hill to the property, the elderly Mrs Bouniol had promised she would walk down to the gate to bring me a hot drink. Accompanied by a photographer who had been shivering beside me in the December cold, I walked up to Sophie’s old house. Inside, we were made to sit by the roaring fire and offered rum and cheese. When we both declined the rum, hot mugs of coffee were then pressed into our hands. Some 30 minutes later, and just a short time before the candlelit ceremony was due to start, we offered our thanks, shook hands with our hosts and left the house. It was a kindness I have never forgotten.

Every time there is a development in the long-running investigation, I remember that, while for those of us in the media it is a news item, for Sophie’s family and her elderly parents the search for justice has effectively become their life. More than once I’ve wondered why such evil befalls the kindest and most decent of people.

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