Let Them Lie, page 21
Irish Times March 1986
It has been a year since Anna Halliburton, 20, disappeared while travelling to the family home in Boyle, Co. Roscommon. Anna and her twin sister, Susan, were studying law at UCG and made plans to return to their family home in Boyle. The sisters had plans to meet up with friends over the weekend. At the last minute, Susan decided not to go. An overdue essay necessitated that she stay and work over the weekend. Susan explained that Anna was the more organised and diligent twin. She had worked hard to finish her essay so she could get home for the weekend and catch up with old school friends. Susan bitterly regretted the decision to stay in Galway. ‘If I had been with her, Anna would be here today,’ she told our reporter. ‘I’ll never forgive myself.’
On the 8th of March 1985, Anna went missing. The Garda believe she missed her bus and tried to hitch a lift home. There were sightings of Anna on the outskirts of Galway town at 4:30 pm, dressed in jeans and a brown jacket. Susan described the anguish of being involved in the reconstruction of Anna’s last movements. The Garda hadn’t wanted her to take part, but Susan believed it was the right thing to do. The reconstruction resulted in the identification of Anna by a woman who was driving out the Sligo Road to get petrol. This lady offered Anna a lift as far as the petrol station, saying it might be easier to get a lift there, but Anna declined and said that she’d be sure to get a lift soon. There were lots of cars heading toward Sligo so she felt confident about getting a lift to Boyle. Anna’s parents became concerned when she didn’t arrive home and they reported her missing. They insist that Anna would never harm herself. They believe someone is responsible for her disappearance.
Anna enjoyed her studies and planned to train as a solicitor. She had everything to live for. Susan has since received her law degree from UCG and is currently applying to Blackhall Place to train as a solicitor. She said it was traumatic to receive her degree without Anna by her side. Her parents were too upset to attend the conferring ceremony. Susan described her sister as a bright, bubbly personality, a keen cross-country runner, with a desire to travel and see the world. The Halliburton family are heartbroken and continue to spend time and money trying to find leads to their daughter’s whereabouts. They refuse to give up hope. A repeat of the reconstruction of Anna’s last movements will feature on Garda Patrol this Wednesday evening.
Aoife searched for the reconstruction in the RTÉ archives and eventually found grainy footage from 1985. It began with the image of a young woman arriving at a bus depot and a voiceover declared Anna had missed her bus. The young woman was next seen hitching a lift on the Sligo to Galway Road. The reconstruction showed a middle-aged woman pulling over to speak to Anna/Susan. This woman offered her a ride to a filling station, suggesting she might have a better chance of getting a lift there. Anna/Susan refused the offer and is next seen standing by the side of the road thumbing a lift. The last sighting of Anna was at 4:45 pm, by a man on a motorbike. Aoife watched, fascinated by the slight figure of the girl. At one point the face is visible: Susan, the mirror image of her sister, stands on the road, her thin face bravely hiding anguish.
Aoife’s eyes swelled with tears, her throat ached and yet she was compelled to watch.
She bookmarked the page and searched for Susan Haliburton on Facebook. It didn’t take long because either she never married or hadn’t changed her name. Like a lot of older people, Susan wasn’t too careful with privacy settings and had posted an upcoming event – her 50th birthday celebration in Dwyer’s pub in Galway. Aoife’s heart thudded. It was tomorrow night. This party looked like a sign, perhaps the universe was telling her to go and make living flesh of the words etched on the pages of the notebook. She was going to seek out this woman whose life was despoiled by Manus. It felt like penance or masochism, but either way she felt compelled to do what sanity counselled against. At least it would distract her from the missing girl and avoid a confrontation with Sam.
CHAPTER 34
On Saturday morning she worked out a plan. At breakfast, she mentioned a college friend had got in touch and wanted to meet up.
‘We’ll likely have a meal and go for drinks later so I’m going to stay over.’
Agnes looked pleased. ‘Ah, that’s great, love. I was thinking you were looking a bit peaky and meeting up with old pals is just what’s needed to lift your spirits.’
So, Aoife packed an overnight bag and headed for Galway after supper. The roads were quiet, and she should make Galway around eight, giving her plenty of time to suss out the party venue. From her experiences in Dublin, she knew how to crash a party. Hungry students didn’t embarrass easily, and she had blagged her way into many 21st parties for food and the prospect of meeting talent. It had mortified her law-abiding mother when she owned up to it in an unguarded moment. What she planned to do in Galway was stalking. It was crazy, but the impulse to see this woman overcame rationality.
Galway was quiet apart from a few revellers on the street. She passed a hen party: girls wearing wedding veils tottering down cobbled streets in impossibly high heels, maintaining their balance in a feat worthy of tightrope walkers. Once parked, she pinpointed the location of the pub using Google maps. Fortuitously, it was close by. The pub’s bright, cheerful exterior contrasted with the dark atmospheric interior, which was already full of fun-loving locals and tourists. Music thumped dully in the background, unable to compete with the raucous cacophony of the happy punters. Hung across the stairs was a sign for the Halliburton party with an arrow pointing upwards. Should she book somewhere for the night? Aoife hesitated. Why stay over? She would only stay a short time. She could always tell her mam the craic wasn’t great with her friend, to explain coming home.
Ordering a soft drink, she found an abandoned barstool and sat, and waited. It was too early to check the party out – she’d better wait – at least she had a seat. As Aoife sat her stomach knotted and twisted, forcing her to go to the loo. When she returned to the bar, her seat was gone. To hell with it, she thought, and ordered a gin and tonic and change for the cigarette machine. Going outside to a covered area full of smokers, she bummed a light. The drink was a good idea, it steadied her. The crowd outside were friendly and she chatted with the hen party she saw earlier. They had just arrived from Dublin and were keen to party hard. It felt good to be part of a normal cheery crowd, reminding her of carefree times.
At eight-thirty Aoife noticed a change in the calibre of people coming into the bar – definitely an older crowd, a steady stream heading upstairs to the party room. Shortly afterwards, a large group of glammed-up younger girls followed them, laughing and chatting. Well, at least she wouldn’t stand out in a room full of oldies. Catching the barman’s eye, she ordered another drink and followed them.
The party room was set up with tables arranged around two sides of the room. Seventies and eighties music blared from speakers, but most people were too busy greeting each other to dance. Aoife scanned the room for Susan Halliburton. Close to the door, she spotted a gaggle of people, shouting birthday greetings. Through a gap in the crowd she saw a middle-aged woman whom she thought must be Susan as she was the focus of all the attention. She was wearing black palazzo pants and a tight-fitting black silk top under a long dress-coat, multi-coloured and swirling. Blonde hair cut very short revealed a pale face washed out under the swirling lights that raced rapidly across the floor.
Uncertain whether to stay or go, Aoife finished her drink then went to the bar and ordered another. She moved closer to the ladies’ toilets – in case she needed a quick getaway. Nervousness made her drink too quickly. She stood outside the circle of friends and acquaintances, feeling foolish and exposed.
People were lining up to partake of the food spread out on tables. Aoife was ravenously hungry but couldn’t face joining the queue. She knocked back the gin, slipped into the toilets and locked the door of her cubicle. Sitting on the loo, she googled B&Bs to see if she could find somewhere nearby to make a booking. Everywhere was booked out, and she resorted to checking out nearby hotels for accommodation. The outer door to the toilets opened and her ears pricked when she heard some girls chatting.
‘Your mother looks tired, Julie – this must be a tough night for her.’
‘Yeah, it’s a bit of an ordeal, to be honest. She insists on having these milestone birthday celebrations, as a way of honouring her twin – inviting all of her sister’s friends from school and college.’
‘It’s a lovely thing to do but it must be so hard on her, remembering her dead sister.’
Aoife struggled to hear over the sound of a tap running but could just about make out what was being said.
‘Mum never talks about Anna being dead, she always says she’s disappeared.’
‘But surely she can’t really believe that, after nearly thirty years?’
‘Of course she doesn’t but she can’t let go until they find a body, so she keeps on hoping for some news. It’s eating her up inside. These birthday memorials help somehow, so I go along with them to support her, but I wish we could just celebrate her life and not have a ghost hovering in the background.’
‘Shit, that’s tough!’
‘Yeah, well, it is what it is and anyway let’s talk about something else. Are you in talks with Brian about getting back together, or are you still in unforgiving mode?’
‘Ah, screw him! I don’t want to talk about that eejit. Come on, let’s go out and grab some food.’
Aoife sat in agonised silence as she listened to the girls leave. The conversation she overheard brought home to her with fierce clarity how damaged Susan Halliburton must be. Because her mother was pregnant with her, Manus made this girl, Anna, suffer and die. Thank God those pages were missing from the diary. To have read the description of Anna’s death would have been unbearable.
Eaten up with guilt, she sat on the toilet, trying to stifle her tears. She didn’t want to leave the safe enclosure of the cubicle but eventually forced her leaden legs to move. When she was sure the room was empty, she stepped out, washed her tear-ravished face, reapplied some lipstick and ran damp fingers through her hair – hoping to look less like a survivor from Day of the Dead. She really should go. Someone would notice she didn’t belong here if she waited much longer. Bracing herself, she made her way through the throng towards the stairs and the safety of the pub below. She didn’t get far as the music was turned off and the attention of the partygoers was directed towards the front of the room where Susan stood side by side with a younger woman. Unable to help herself, Aoife manoeuvred her way along the wall towards the front.
The two women stood hand in hand. The young woman, presumably the daughter Aoife eavesdropped on earlier, took the mic, wished her mother a happy birthday and thanked everyone for attending. Then she handed the mic to her mother.
The festive party atmosphere died down, and the silence in the room was respectful. Aoife could hardly breathe.
‘Thank you all for coming here tonight, and thanks to Julie for helping to arrange this evening. Friends, you are all familiar with my marking of these milestone birthdays. Most fiftieth birthday parties are just about celebrating life and survival to date, but this party acknowledges absence too. My beloved sister Anna should be here, marking this half-century with me. I often wonder what her life might have been. Would we have worked together? Would she have travelled the world, married, had children? We will never know. But although Anna has disappeared from our lives, she has not been forgotten as your presence here testifies. It is heartening to see so many of her old friends here celebrating her short time among us. Anna’s memory cannot be wiped away as easily as her physical presence. Her loss has left me feeling like an amputee. Without my beloved twin, I am incomplete. But please don’t let my words here spoil your evening. Anna loved a good party, so please, my friends, have fun, reminisce, and drink the night away. I don’t have a cake for my birthday anymore, but if you will all help yourselves to a glass of champagne being served now by the kind staff of Dwyer’s, I’ll propose a toast.’
She waited patiently until everyone had a drink in their hand and then raised her glass.
‘To Anna!’
The party raised glasses and joined in the chorus of ‘To Anna!’ then Julie stepped forward and led the singing of ‘Happy Birthday’ for Susan.
Aoife stood holding the glass of champagne in hands that trembled uncontrollably. She placed it on a table untasted. Slowly she moved through crowds of dancers towards the bar and ordered a double gin and tonic, drank swiftly, and stood staring with eyes blind with tears.
‘Hi there, I was wondering if you are one of Julie’s friends? I don’t think we’ve met, have we?’
Horrified, Aoife realised that the woman standing beside her was Susan. She froze, unable to think of a coherent sentence, and just stared stupidly at her.
‘Are you OK, love? You look faint. Should I get Julie for you?’
‘I’m fine, please don’t bother Julie. I just have stomach cramps – really, I’m grand – my boyfriend has rung for a taxi, he’ll be here in a minute.’
‘Look, Julie is just over there – I’ll get her for you. What did you say your name was, pet?’
Aoife’s mind raced in circles trying to invent a name while Susan, concern etching lines more deeply in her pale face, waited for her to speak.
‘Joan, my name is Joan,’ she mumbled.
Susan waved at her daughter and Aoife saw Julie moving towards them. Her stomach rolled. God, she was going to throw up. In desperation, she turned and made for the door. Pushing frantically through the crowd, she could see Julie and Susan scanning the floor. She raced downstairs to the pub below. It was packed to bursting and Aoife shoved her way roughly outside. She moved around the corner to the smoking area, gulping in the fresh cold biting air. With shaking hands, she pulled a cigarette from the packet. She left the packet on a nearby table while she searched in her bag for a lighter. A beefy man obliged with a light but then he annoyed her with awkward chat-up lines. It was only when Aoife told him to fuck off that he abandoned his courtship attempt, leaving her if not in peace at least alone.
God, what the hell was she doing? Why hadn’t she the sense to book in somewhere? It was too late now to find anywhere to stay; she’d have to sleep in the car. Were there laws against sleeping in cars? Aoife shuddered at the thought of some garda tapping on her window and hassling her. Feck it, she’d risk it and drive home. It was late, the roads would be empty, why not chance it? OK, she was over the limit, but in the light of all the shit in her life was drunk driving such a big deal? She’d be careful.
Walking briskly to her car, she was encouraged by the speed and accuracy of her footsteps. She was fine to drive. Reaching for her car keys she realised she has left her fags at the pub. Cursing, she debated going back to retrieve them, but there was no point as someone had probably whipped them by now.
In the car, Aoife decided that getting a coffee might be a good idea so she would stop for one when safely outside town. Starting the engine, she drove slowly and carefully. It was going to be OK. Just ahead was a filling station. Aoife pulled in and got a black coffee from the machine. She got in line to pay then her heart thudded in alarm. The man in front of her was wearing a Garda uniform. Shit! Shit! Her stomach lurched and her body broke out in a clammy sweat. He moved off and she paid for her coffee and bought a bag of crisps too. She didn’t want them but at least they would remove the smell of drink from her breath.
She walked to the door. The garda was sitting in his car with a colleague. Shit! Better wait until they drove off. How stupid could she be? If she got done for drunk driving, she would be in serious trouble. Shit! Shit! Aoife moved back into the shop, her hand stinging from the hot coffee. But the pain sharpened her wits. Setting the coffee on a shelf, she pretended to be looking for a magazine. Quaking, she saw the garda re-enter the shop. He went up to the cashier and asked for the toilets. When he re-emerged and left the shop, Aoife took a magazine and went to the counter. The man at the cash desk stared at her and she figured she must look like a petrified fish. She also bought a packet of cigarettes. Out of the shop window, she saw the Garda car pull out and head back in the direction of Galway city.
Aoife hurried to her car and shoved coffee and crisps in her mouth, practically inhaling them. She needed to sober up fast. Gradually her heart returned to normal and, taking a few calming breaths, she began to feel more in control of her body. She struggled with the cellophane wrapper on her cigarettes but eventually liberated one. Why did they make the packets so bloody hard to open? Sucking in the nicotine, she moved off, leaving the window open to rid her car of smoke and hoping the cold would keep her alert.
She drove with great care yet was mindful not to drive too slowly either in case of attracting attention. Cold to the bone from the open car window but alert, she reached Sligo town and drove through without mishap.
She was less than a mile from home when she pulled in. The thought of her mother hearing her arrive and asking fifty questions about why she was back and maybe guessing that she wasn’t sober unnerved her. Why not go to Jack’s? It was late but maybe he would be OK about it. She turned the car and headed there.
CHAPTER 35
It was after two when she pulled up outside the glass cube. The security lights came on as she arrived. Coming here was madness. Jack didn’t deserve to be awoken by a drunken madwoman. Better to face her mother’s disapproval than drag Jack into her mess. Aoife had restarted the engine when she spotted Jack standing at the door in his boxers. He waved to her. It was too late to drive away. Reluctantly, she got out of the car.
‘Sorry, Jack, I shouldn’t have called, I didn’t realise it was so late.’ Jack stared, his face creased with concern, ‘Are you alright?’ ‘Yes, of course, I am. Look, I’ll be on my way.’
