Despite the Angels - By Madeline A Stringer Page 0,148
work. And Alison. Actually, that’s quite a lot really. And all those people that we know as a couple, but they don’t count in this tally because Martin knows them too and he has loads of friends I never get to see. Which is crazy, because I like going to matches too, but I never seem to get the chance. Could have gone today, though, if I’d known about it; we could all have gone and been a family again. And we could have come home together at a better time for Robbie’s bedtime. Lucy looked at her watch, it was nine o’clock. She felt so trapped, sitting at home waiting, unable to do anything, until she remembered the car. Her freedom was sitting in the drive waiting for her.
“Aisling, come on, we’re going to Donnybrook to get Robbie.” Aisling grumbled about having to go out again, but complied. She waited in the car on double yellow lines outside O’Bs, to explain to curious policemen or irate motorists that her mother was rescuing her six year old brother from the pub. Inside the pub it was crowded and smoky and Lucy had to push through the groups of men, as she looked for Martin. Eventually she saw Robbie, slumped back on a seat, his eyes shut. Martin was a few yards away, gesticulating excitedly with his friends, but he glanced over at Lucy.
“Hi guys,” Lucy raised her voice to be heard, “I’m taking Robbie home now.”
“Hi Lucy, have a drink, help us celebrate! Ah, come on, what’ll it be?”
“No, Martin, he should be in bed.”
“Don’t ruin the party, sit down.” Martin pushed a hand into Lucy’s chest and she staggered back a pace. Colm, one of Martin’s friends, put out a hand to steady her and Martin came closer.
“You are making a show of me, Lucy. Now have a bloody drink,” Martin spat the words into her ear. She shook her head. Martin took a ten pound note out of his pocket and thrust it at her. “You always say I don’t pay,” he muttered, “so now buy yourself a gin and stop being ridiculous.” He turned away and was soon shouting about the winning try. Lucy reached for Robbie and pulled him up.
“Come on, sausage,” she whispered to him, as she put her arm round his drooping shoulders. Colm made a space for her through the crowd and she smiled at him.
“Thanks. Tell Martin I’ve gone when he stops talking, will you?”
Robbie, when he came out with Lucy, was tired and fractious. He protested several times that it was not his fault.
“Was too. You were meant to come home with Marge after school,” Aisling was smug. It was good not to be in trouble.
“I was waiting for her, but Dad came, and I went with him. But we didn’t come home, we went to the match.”
“You should have come home first and told me, then I could have told Mum. Then I wouldn’t be out again looking for you.”
“That’s enough, Aisling. It’s not Robbie’s fault. I’m sorry for being so cross, Rob. I was just worried.”
“Okay. Whose car is this?” When Robbie found out that the car was here to stay he perked up and started planning trips. He fell silent, thinking, and by the time they reached home he was asleep. Lucy carried him up to bed and put him under his duvet. Then, after remembering to phone the Garda station to let them know Robbie was safe, she went to bed herself, feeling that the day had been long enough.
Someone was shining a light in her eyes, shouting at her ‘where is your son? Where is he? Where did you leave him?’ She began to protest that it was not her fault and then she woke up. Martin was in the room and had turned on the light.
“I was asleep.”
“I’m not. And I can’t see in the dark,” Martin lurched towards the bed, “and I’d like to see my wife, because I’m feeling good and a man needs a wife when he’sh feeling good.” Martin sat down heavily onto Lucy’s feet and put a hand on the curve of her hip.
“Well, I’m not feeling good, Martin. Actually, I’m feeling about as bad as I can. I’m very angry with you.”
“Why? Did nothing wrong. Good guy. Try hard, gave you ten quid. Good father, had a good time. Won match.”
“You are not a good father. And you are a lousy husband. You took Robbie from school without telling