47
Christmas came and went and I stayed sober. By New Year, I was off the cigarettes. Twice a week, I went to visit my mother and swore I’d get her moved.
I didn’t.
She had shifted to another place in her head, a place where she was a young girl again and I’d no idea what she was talking about. My relationship with the matron continued to be cold and combative. My investigation into the students’ deaths came to a complete stop. I spoke to Stewart on the phone, told him I was getting nowhere. He said,
“Keep searching.”
And hung up.
The cheques continued to arrive and I continued to cash them. Ronan Wall rang me less and less often, his interest in play waning. Margaret and I were still “doing our line” and my life was as normal as it gets. My knee had improved but a slight limp was go
