Pat and Lina arrived at the offices of Owens Solicitors in Chapel Street shortly after nine thirty on Friday morning. Rebecca Grant was waiting for them at reception. Pat noticed the sparkling blue eyes behind her face covering, a black cloth mask sporting a colourful indigenous design, and felt them probing his soul.
‘This is probably the safest place,’ said Rebecca.
‘Fair enough,’ said Pat.
They sat in the chairs arranged in the waiting space in front of the desk, with Rebecca staying behind the reception desk. ‘Are you making any progress? John doesn’t think you have much of a chance of getting a breakthrough after all this time.’
‘He could be right,’ said Pat, ‘but that won’t stop us trying. What do you remember about that weekend?’
Rebecca leant back in her chair. ‘I couldn’t bel
