so he told her anyway. ‘All that money. It’s wrong. Every one of us has a roof over our head.’
‘Ferd,’ Barty muttered.
‘Yet we’re spending money – okay, not me, I admit – to stay under another roof while there’s a housing crisis in this country.’
‘Mmm.’ Her eyes met his in the rear-view.
‘You don’t agree?’
‘Ferdia, here’s the sitch: when your sister-in-law takes you away for an all-expenses-paid weekend, her son throws shade and wants you to pile on?’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Awkward.’
‘So? With four nights’ bed and breakfast, and as much chocolate as you can eat, she bought your complicity. Okaaaay.’
Their eyes met once again, hers blank, his fierce, and the rest of the short journey passed in silence.
Ferdia’s hopes were to avoid his family for as long as possible. But Jessie and Johnny were milling about in the lobby with the four kids, obviously just back from an outing.
‘Perfect timing,’ Saoirse called.
Jessie lit up. ‘Bunny, you’re here!’ She grabbed him in a hug.
‘Mum, don’t call me that.’ He was embarrassed that Nell was hearing this.
‘You’ll always be my bunny. Bunny number one.’ She smiled at his jacket, his hat, his heavy boots. ‘You look like you’re off to the waterfront to unload cargo from a ship.
‘And so do you, love.’ Jessie had moved on to Barty. ‘Thank you for coming. We’re all so happy you’re here.’ Next she hugged Nell. ‘Thank you for picking them up.’
Dilly flung herself at Ferdia and he lifted her into his arms. ‘Hello, missus!’
‘We went on a jaunting car! Daddy hated it!’
‘Daddy did hate it,’ Johnny said.
‘He said it was the worst day of his life.’ TJ leant against Ferdia.
‘It was cold,’ Bridey said. ‘And soooooo boring.’
‘Any safety lapses to report?’ Ferdia asked.
‘No seatbelts in the jaunting car. But,’ Bridey conceded, ‘we weren’t going fast enough to do any real damage.’
‘That’s what I like about you, Bridey, you’re fair. She calls it as she sees it but gives credit when it’s due.’
Bridey pinkened. ‘Thanks.’
‘Nice work, “missing” yesterday’s train,’ Johnny said. ‘You were spared the day from Hell.’
‘Ah, stop.’ Jessie was laughing. ‘It wasn’t so bad – and what’s that they say about life? We only regret the things we don’t do.’
Ferdia noticed Nell hovering awkwardly on the edge of the group, excluded from their well-worn familiarity. Just leave, he thought. What are you waiting for?
Jessie clasped Nell around her waist. ‘Look how handsome Ferdia is. Once he fills out, he’ll be lethal. And isn’t his little beard lovely?’
‘Mum.’ Ferdia didn’t know who was more embarrassed, him or Nell.
‘Speaking of which, Mr Lethal,’ Saoirse said, ‘your girlfriend is here.’
Sammie was here? His heart leapt. Had she decided they weren’t breaking up after all? But how did she get here before he had?
‘The fake-ass one from last year,’ Saoirse said. ‘With the bougie accent.’
Ferdia looked at Barty and together they said, ‘Phoebe?’
Phoebe had been both the high and low spots of last Easter. She’d been in the thick of a big family group. A few years older than the other kids with her, she was obviously at the hotel under sufferance, just like Ferdia.
At the family dinner on the first evening, she was at a similarly long, rowdy table. She looked up, did a second take, and held Ferdia’s stare long enough to make her intentions clear. An hour later, when he was taking Dilly to the movie at the kids’ club, Phoebe was removing a small boy, who was wailing his head off. Another long, loaded look was shared.
Ferdia and Sammie were on yet another of their breaks so, heartsore and defiant, he’d decided he might as well salve his wounds with this girl. Her name had been easy to find out – you had only to listen to what her sisters were calling her. And, yeah, her accent, as she answered them, was slightly affected. But she was cute, with long russet-coloured hair, bold brown eyes and, as Barty kept saying, ‘A rocking bod.’
After bribing TJ to ask one of the younger members of Phoebe’s group their surname, Ferdia found her on Instagram. But the account was private. Nor could he find her on Snapchat, not without her username.
He requested a follow on Instagram, but despite the electricity that snapped between them, nothing happened.
‘Maybe she’ll show up later at the boat-house.’
It was traditionally the place where teenagers congregated for furtive late-night drinking sessions. Ferdia and Barty had emptied their mini-bar of alcohol and taken it to the lake. Though they’d stayed there until