She didn’t look at me either. And as we followed Gallagher along the corridors and down the stairs, I wondered what she was thinking. Was she angry with me? Was she concerned? Was she shocked? Disappointed? There was no way of telling from the look on her face, but I didn’t think I’d have to wait very long to find out. Before we’d left the interview room, DI Barry had started arranging for someone to drive us home, but Mum had told him not to bother. ‘Thanks all the same,’ she’d told him, ‘but we’ll make our own way back. We’ve got a few things to do first anyway.’ And I was pretty sure that those ‘things to do’ consisted mostly of talking to me. As we passed through the security doors into reception, Gallagher stopped by the open door and nodded towards the exit. ‘If you go through those glass doors and turn right,’ he told us, ‘that’ll take you out on to Westway.’ I glanced at him, surprised at the squeakiness of his voice, and I suddenly realized that I hadn’t actually heard him speak until now.
