The funeral was over, and the wake was in full swing at the Rovers. I was trying to keep the peace, but it wasn’t easy. Steve was still raw from burying his dad, and the tension was thick enough to cut. “Are these your mates, darling?
” I asked, nodding at the two blokes he’d brought back from the service. “Yeah, Declan and Davey,” he said, his voice flat. I tried to make small talk, but my mind was elsewhere. That video.
The one I’d filmed of some bloke leaving dog mess on a car bonnet. It had blown up on the Weatherfield community page, and now I couldn’t shake the fear that my ex would see it and find me. “You’re not still stressing about that video, are you? ” Glenda asked, catching my eye.
“It’s not the comments,” I said. “I couldn’t care less what people think. It’s my ex. If he sees that footage, he’ll know where I am.
”
“He’s not going to see it,” she said, trying to reassure me. “Unless he’s on the Weatherfield community page, and that’s hardly the go-to for psychopaths. ”
“I guess when you’ve been through that kind of trauma, you get paranoid. ”
“I could text Adam, ask him to take it down,” she offered.
“Would you? ”
“Yeah, I’ll ask him now. ”
I thanked her, but the knot in my stomach didn’t loosen. I’d been running from my ex for months, and now I’d gone and put myself right in his line of sight.
Meanwhile, the wake was turning into a circus. Steve’s mates were drinking the place dry, and I was trying to keep an eye on the till. Then I spotted her—a woman in a ridiculous coat, hovering near the bar. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her.
“Who’s that? ” I asked Steve. “Oh, that’s Margaret,” he said. “She knew my dad years ago.
”
Something about the way he said it made me uneasy. But I let it go. I had enough on my plate. Later, I overheard Steve’s son, Ben, talking to his girlfriend, Amy.
They were arguing about something, and it was getting heated. Steve stepped in, his voice sharp. “You won’t go near my daughter again,” he said to Ben. “What?
” Ben looked stunned. “You heard me. You’ve been leading her up the garden path. ”
“Steve, they’re just kids,” I said, trying to calm him down.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Steve said, his jaw tight. “Why do you want me to leave? ” Ben asked, his voice cracking. “How would you like it if I talked to your son like that?
”
Steve’s face went pale. “My son’s dead, isn’t he? ”
I felt the air leave the room. “That’s not what I meant,” Ben stammered.
“But have some respect for the living. ”
“Excuse me? ” Steve’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no actual wrong to it,” I said, trying to mediate.
“But come on, this is my pub. That’s my boy. ”
Steve turned and walked away, and I could see the hurt in his eyes. I wanted to go after him, but I had a pub to run.
Later, I found myself talking to Margaret again. She was standing by the window, looking out at the street. “You’re familiar,” she said, turning to me. “Older, but familiar.
”
“I have one of those faces, maybe,” I said. “I get it a lot. ”
“How long have you been here? ” she asked.
“Months. ”
“And before that? ”
“Other places. Belfast.
”
She nodded slowly. “You weren’t at the funeral. ”
“I didn’t know the man. His son is a regular, that’s all.
”
“Jim McDonald,” she said, and I felt a chill run down my spine. “You must have me confused. ”
“Margaret,” she said. “May we, Maggie, he’d say.
”
“I don’t know what you mean. ”
“The big secret,” she said, her voice low. “A married man. You knew that.
With two young boys. ”
I felt my heart stop. “I think I’d like you to leave. ”
“Awful lucky nobody caught on,” she said, a thin smile on her lips.
“I’m assuming they didn’t. ”
“Go,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’ll not cause you any bother. The past is the past.
”
“And isn’t that plenty of it? ” I said. “Yeah,” she said, turning to leave. “You’re right about that.
”
I watched her go, my mind racing. She knew. She knew about me and Jim, all those years ago.
And if she knew, who else might?
