She picked a twenty-four-hour locksmith out of the Yellow Pages and dialed the number. They said that there would be a twenty-quid bonus charge because it was Sunday but she didn't care. The man on the phone took her address in Garnethill and said he'd send someone over at twelve with a new bolt and Yale.
She was drinking a coffee and packing her answer phone into a plastic bag when the phone rang out. "Hello," said Una. "I phoned Benny's but he said you were at Liam's."
"Well," said Maureen, "here I am."
She was intent on meeting Maureen to tell her some good news.
"I can't see you, Una," Maureen said, mindful of Liam's warning. "I'm moving back home today."
But Una was determined. She'd come over to Liam's, she said, and drive Maureen and her answerphone home. Una had driven since she was seventeen and refused to believe that anyone would rather walk anywhere.
"Well, okay, but I'm leaving now and Liam's still asleep. He's exhausted, so just knock, okay? Don't ring the bell."
When the knock came on Liam's front door Maureen threw on her coat and scarf and picked up the bag. She opened the door and stepped outside, pecked Una briskly on the cheek and turned away to lock the front door behind her.
"Aren't we going to have a cup of tea?" asked Una, sensing a strained atmosphere and preparing to be offended on the slightest pretext.
"Well, I need to get on, really," said Maureen.
Una looked aggrieved. "All right, then," she said magnanimously. "If you're in such a big hurry."
They walked down the front steps to Una's company car. It was a big green Rover with a walnut dashboard and electric windows and everything. It was Una's pride and joy. She started the engine and told Maureen the good news: Marie was coming up for a visit the day after next and the girls were all meeting up at Winnie's for a lovely lunch on Thursday.
Maureen thought about the three of them together, sitting around the kitchen table, waiting for her to arrive. Why were they having a lunch and not a dinner, like they usually did when Marie came home, and why wasn't Liam invited? He would stand up for her if he was there. They must be planning something: they were going to confront her, tell her everything she remembered was a lie and she was mental.
As they drove down the Maryhill Road Maureen noticed Una's eyes flicking to the side when she dared, checking on her wee sister, making sure she wasn't doing anything crazy. Maureen couldn't think of anything to say. They'd call Louisa Wishart if she got upset, that would be the first thing they'd do.
She was hot with worry by the time they got halfway down the Maryhill Road. Una asked why she was so quiet and she pretended she hadn't slept well. "Mum's angry with me for taking my photos away."
"I know," said Una, drawing her lips tight together and clenching her jaw.
"But they were mine and she was selling them to the newspapers."
"No, Maureen," said Una, holding her hand up. "Mum didn't sell them."
"Well, she gave them away, then."
"Yes, which is different," said Una.
They fell into an uneasy silence. The car's engine hummed quietly as they drew up to the traffic lights and stopped.
"Did Liam tell you about Mum at the police station?" said Maureen.
"Oh, dear me, yes," said Una, wrinkling her nose. "She was a bit excited."
"He told me she was screaming her fucking face off," said Maureen loudly, her voice quivering with misplaced indignation. Una didn't like swearing or screeching or untoward emotional reactions of any kind. Maureen could tell she was freaking her out.
Una pulled the car into the curb and stopped the engine. "Are you sure you're okay?" she said carefully. "D'you think you should be going home today?"
Maureen thought about confronting Una now, weighing up the pros and cons. Not yet. Not just now. She didn't want to go ballistic. "I'm fine," she said. "I'm a bit frightened about going home again, that's all."
Una leaned across and pulled her over, hugging her and pressing the gear stick into Maureen's ribs. She let go. "We all love you very much," she said kindly.
"I know that, Una," said Maureen, crying with fury.
"We all want the best for you," she said.
Maureen turned her face away, angrily swatting the tears off her face. "I know," she said, "I know."
Una had meant to suggest that Maureen go back to hospital but she seemed so unstable that it might not be a good idea. She'd phone Dr. Wishart when she got back to the office and ask her about readmission. She started the car again. "You could come and stay with us if you want," she said, pulling out into the traffic.
It would be Una's worst nightmare, herself moping around their ordered house, smoking fags all over the place and watching old movies. "You're such a sweetheart, Una," Maureen said, controlling her voice to make it sound normal. "I don't know how you do it. We're all crazy and it just seems to roll off your back."
Una smiled, pleased at being differentiated from the rest of them. "Let's have some music," she said, and clicked the radio on.
They sang along to a jolly pop song all the way up the road, guessing the words and humming the hard parts so they wouldn't have to speak to each other.
Maureen looked out of the window and told herself that very, very soon, as soon as the Douglas thing was over, she would tell Una and the rest of them what she thought of them.
UNA PARKED THE CAR outside the close, pulled on the hand brake, turned off the ignition and undid her seat belt.
"No," said Maureen. "You can't come up with me."
She was desperate to get away from her sister. If Una came upstairs and saw as much as a drop of blood she'd start crying and need to be tended and comforted. She'd phone Alistair and get him to come over, she might even call Winnie and George. She'd be there for fucking hours.
Una stared at her. "Why not?"
"Urn, the police won't let you in, only me."
"Why are the police up there?"
"They want me to show them around the house, so you can't come in."
"But I'm your sister."
"I know that, Una, but they can't let just anyone in."
"I'm not just anyone," said Una, taking the key out of the ignition and pocketing it. "I'm your sister." She opened her door and put one foot on the pavement.
"Una," said Maureen, as firmly as she could without shouting, "you cannot come upstairs."
Una brought her foot back into the car and turned to face her wee sister. "Maureen," she said solemnly, "I am not letting you go into that house without anyone to support you."
"Una," said Maureen, copying her sister's sanctimonious tone, "I am not letting you come upstairs with me. The police are there, they already dislike our family because Mum was drunk and shouted at them and because our brother is a drug dealer, and I am not going to jeopardize what small relationship I have with them by demanding that they grant you access to the house."
Una sighed heavily and shook her head. "Why on earth wouldn't the police want me up there?"
"It's in case you interfere with some evidence they haven't collected yet."
"But I'm your sister. I don't think you should go in there alone."
"I won't be alone, the police'll be there with me."
Una rolled her eyes heavenward and muttered "Pete's sake" before shutting her door.
"It's all right," said Maureen, pulling the polyethylene bag with her answer phone in it out of the backseat. "The police are in there."
They kissed and arranged to meet at Winnie's for lunch on Thursday, when Marie would be home.
Una watched Maureen walk up the close carrying the poly bag. It was dark inside the door; Maureen's small shadow jogged up the first flight of stairs, around the corner and disappeared. She sat for a moment before picking up the car phone and dialing Dr. Wishart's number at the Albert Hospital. It was engaged. She hung up and pressed the redial button. Still engaged. She replaced the phone and looked back up the close, weighing up the pros and cons of going after Maureen. She fitted the key in the ignition, started the engine, lifted off the hand brake and pulled the car out into the steep street.