Page 23 of The Last Bench

She watched her son rush towards his father and leap on to Hinges’s back. They all toppled to the ground in one crashing heap. Anne crawled towards them, terror filling every part of her, as they tussled on the floor, Michael fighting to gain control of the knife that Hinges was now aiming in his direction.

John moved first of all, rolling to his right. He yanked Hinges off Michael, who lay motionless underneath him.

‘Michael!’ Anne screamed, when she saw blood pool into a puddle on her shiny white floor tiles.

‘He . . . didn’t . . . get me,’ Michael said, his voice shaking with shock.

Anne scrambled towards Michael and John on all fours, prepared to stand between them and Hinges. Ready to fight.

But Hinges didn’t move.

Hinges would never move again.

Nineteen

John

26 August 1998

‘He’s dead,’ John said, moving his hand away from Hinge’s non-existent pulse.

Anne and Michael rocked together on the floor a couple of metres away.

‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ Anne whispered.

‘I was at the girls’ flat when you called last night. I’ve been back in Ireland for a few days. I borrowed a friend’s car, decided to surprise you,’ Michael said, his voice still trembling. He stood up, then reached down to offer his mother a hand. ‘What the hell is that man doing in our kitchen?’ he asked.

‘You need to leave here,’ John said, trying to push him towards the door.

‘Are you kidding me? I’m not going anywhere,’ Michael stated firmly. ‘Thank God I arrived when I did! He would have killed you, Dad. You too, Mam. He’s a madman, coming here to attack you. We need to call the Gardaí.’

Anne and John exchanged a worried look.

‘There’s a little more to this,’ Anne said.

John placed an arm round Anne’s trembling shoulders as she filled in an astonished Michael on the events of the previous day.

‘Jesus, Mam,’ Michael said, shaking his head in disbelief, his face white with shock. He moved closer and looked down at Hinges’s body. ‘If you knew how many times I dreamed of killing him . . .’

‘You can’t say that to the Gardaí!’ Anne said in horror.

‘I killed him – not you. You didn’t do this, son,’ John stated firmly.

‘No, Dad. I twisted his arm round and pushed the knife into him,’ Michael argued.

‘That was self-defence – either way, I won’t let you or your dad take the blame for this,’ Anne said tearfully. ‘This is on me. I lured him here. I killed him. Both of you need to leave. I’ll call the Gardaí to confess.’

Both John and Michael gave Anne a look that clearly showed her suggestion wasn’t open to discussion.

John stood up, pacing the floor as he ran through the scenarios open to them. ‘If we call the Gardaí and tell them Hinges called here out of the blue to attack us, the full story would come out – Anne’s plan, her buying the chloroform. Nobody will believe us that it was self-defence. They will say it’s premeditated.’

‘That’s why I have to confess,’ Anne repeated tearfully.

‘No!’ both John and Michael said at once.

An hour passed as the three of them went round in circles, trying to work out their next move. Each was willing to take the blame to save the others, but none of them was willing to allow it.

‘I’ve lost one daughter because of that man. I’ll be damned if I’ll let him take one more thing from me,’ John said eventually, his face drawn and pale. ‘We can’t report this. We have to bury the body.’