Set in Stone by Catherine Dunne

Author:Catherine Dunne [Dunne, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780330532877
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK

‘I don’t understand it,’ Robert was saying.

He was standing with her in the kitchen, watching as Jon and Ciarán gathered up the shrubs and placed them into black plastic sacks. In the early morning light, the garden looked like a moonscape: pockmarked, mysterious, eerie. All the life had left it. ‘I don’t understand how the light didn’t go on. It always wakes you, doesn’t it?’

Lynda nodded. ‘Always.’ She felt a physical pull, as acute as pain, as she watched the boys toss her plants and shrubs into refuse sacks.

‘But you could always plant them again,’ Jon had said. ‘Look . . .’ He pointed at the roots eagerly. ‘They’re not damaged, are they? Ciarán and I can help – you just tell us what to do.’

But Lynda had shaken her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘They make me sick even to look at them. Danny has touched them. I don’t want them – don’t want anything he has touched in my life.’

Jon had looked at her then, his gaze half-curious, half-bashful. ‘I don’t mean to pry, but who is Danny?’

‘My brother,’ Robert had said, sharply, walking up the two steps to the deck, wiping his hands on his jeans. He’d attempted to re-position the tortoise, had persuaded Lynda to direct him. She’d done so, reluctantly. But she knew that it would never be the same again. Robert had been insistent, and she’d been too weary to argue. Her tortoise was damaged beyond repair. Even if she could clean the paint off its back. And she’d been adamant about the plants and shrubs. ‘In the bin,’ she’d repeated. ‘Straight away. No discussion.’

Robert had handed the roll of black refuse sacks to the two boys. ‘Off you go,’ he said. ‘Come on, Lynda. Let’s go back inside and leave the lads to it. You don’t need to be standing out here in the cold, looking at this.’

Now, he made her coffee, insisted she have a shot of brandy to go with it. ‘Sit down. You’re like a ghost,’ he said. ‘Take it. It’ll help settle your stomach.’

‘The deck,’ she said, remembering. ‘I was sick . . .’

‘It’s okay,’ Robert said. ‘Jon and Ciarán hosed it down. I saw them do it.’

Lynda poured the glass of brandy into the steaming coffee. Without lifting her head, she said, ‘What are we going to do, Robert?’

He glanced at her, his face already beginning to close. He poured himself more coffee. The spoon chinked against the china as he stirred.

‘Don’t shut me out,’ she said. ‘And don’t make me beg. This is Danny’s handiwork. You must see that.’ She kept looking at him. Her eyes demanded that he respond. Please don’t pretend this isn’t happening, she thought. The only way out of this is together. Please don’t fight me any longer.

He sighed. ‘I know. I know it is. You’re right.’

Lynda felt relief wash over her. At last. ‘Can we call the Guards? We have to do something.’

‘And tell them what?’ asked Robert. She watched as frustration clouded his face.

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