Cold Eye of Heaven, The by Christine Dwyer Hickey

fact, it could well be a ploy to get him out of the way while the rest of the staff organize a little something before the party; balloons, drinks, all that jazz. But as the minutes tick on, his skin starts to tighten again, the lump expands in his stomach and a dread starts to take shape and blazes into a fully formed notion. That fucker, he thinks, that fucker is going to do me.
    He has to get out for a while. Have a stroll up the quays, maybe wander in through the courts or up to the Deeds, see who he might run into. He feels the need for some sort of diversion, or even acknowledgement on this, his last day. ‘I’m going out for a bit,’ he says to Brendan who gives him a watery look. Farley picks up a file as a mark of purpose and tucks it under his elbow.
    He opens the front door and she’s standing there. Even with the blinding belt of sunlight in his face, he still knows the shape of her.
    â€˜Kathleen?’
    She nods a few times, like she’s answering a question or agreeing with something he hasn’t yet said. Then her hand goes up to her forehead. He sees her mouth open to speak but no words come out of it.
    â€˜What’s the matter, Kathleen?’ He stands back to allow her to step into the hall, but she remains frozen on the doorstep.
    â€˜Are you alright?’
    She shakes her head, looks up at him now and he sees a few small tears squeeze out from the corners of her eyes. For a moment he thinks Slowey has died, there’s been a plane crash, or that his jam tart has packed up on the way from the airport in the back of a taxi. He steps out, reaches down to her and, taking her elbow in the cup of his hand, draws her in.
    In the subdued light of the hall he sees her face.
    â€˜I feel so… so stupid,’ she begins.
    â€˜Why?’ He keeps her elbow in his hand.
    â€˜They mugged me, Farley.’
    â€˜Ah Jaysus, no. That’s terrible.’
    â€˜Just snatched the bag off me shoulder outside Arnott’s. One of them started pulling at me. The other at the bag and—’
    â€˜They didn’t hurt you, did they?’
    â€˜Farley, they were just kids. That’s what’s the worst of it, like children – that size.’ She lifts out her hand to show a height of around four feet.
    â€˜But they didn’t hit you or anything?’
    â€˜No, just frightened me. I feel so stupid. So.’
    â€˜Jesus, if I thought they hurt you,’ Farley says.
    She looks at him then reclaims her elbow, folding her arms.
    â€˜Look, come on into Frank’s office and we’ll sit you down. Get you a nip of brandy for the shock.’
    â€˜I don’t want any—’
    â€˜Tea, then, I’ll get you a cup of tea and after I’ll take you home in a taxi.’
    â€˜No, really, I’ll be alright,’ she says but follows him through the open door anyway. Farley closes it behind them. She sits on one side of her husband’s desk. Farley sits opposite her in Frank’s chair. He picks up the internal phone and calls Noreen. ‘You wouldn’t do us a favour, Nor? Bring a cup of tea into Frank’s office for Mrs Slowey, plenty of sugar. She’s had a bit of a shock.’
    He glances across and sees Kathleen’s eyes filling up again, like she’s remembering. He reaches into his pocket for a hanky but she’s ahead of him, with a tissue pulled out of her own coat pocket.
    â€˜I’d love a smoke,’ Kathleen says.
    â€˜Yea, of course. Go ahead. There should be an ashtray around somewhere.’ He lifts his head to look.
    â€˜They’re in me bag, Farley.’
    â€˜O Christ, yea, sorry.’
    â€˜Have a look there in Frank’s drawer, he might have some old ones lying around.’
    He can’t say he’s already had a look in Frank’s drawer today and knows there’s only cigars in there. ‘Ah, they’d be stale, only make you sick. Hold on there, I’ll get you one