‘Ugh, I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you’re getting at.’
His eyes bulged. She’d shocked him. Shocked several people, she realized, to go by the sudden lull.
‘Young lady, I beg your pardon,’ Canice blustered.
She smiled and repeated, ‘A fizzy water, please.’
It was produced in jig-time by a nervous-seeming boy. He reminded her of a bar-keep in a Western, poised to duck down behind the counter just before the shooting started. She took her drink, smiled again at Canice, at Rose, at Liam, then pushed away from the bar, feeling their eyes on her back.
Being stone-cold sober was hard when everyone else was knocking them back – and everyone really was. Johnny was in the thick of things, regaling a crowd with funny story after funny story but his energy was fractured, almost glinting from him, like flint sparks. Jessie, her eyes too bright, was flitting around, being everywhere at once.
Cara grabbed Nell’s arm and locked her into a strange, dark conversation where she insisted over and over that Nell didn’t know how beautiful she was. ‘Don’t let anyone ever body-shame you, Nell. Do you promise me? Promise me!’
Even Ed, normally calm and upbeat, was sculling pints with a quiet desperation.
It was quite mad how scared everyone was of Canice and Rose. Yes, they were terrible people, but Johnny was ancient, heading for fifty. Far too old to be scared of his dad!
It was also hard having to yell to be heard and answering the same questions again and again. After an hour of shouty, repetitious shite, she struggled through the crowd to Liam. ‘Have you the key?’
‘Why’d you say that to my dad?’
‘What? Oh? About being pregnant? Because I’m not.’
‘You shouldn’t have. He’s furious.’
He was always furious. ‘Key?’
‘That little fuck Ferdia took it.’
She had to push hard through the dense knots of people until she reached Ferdia and his gang clustered in a corner, down near the back. ‘I need the key.’
‘Why are you leaving?’
‘Work. I’ve a big-deal presentation on Monday.’
‘Woo-hoo for you.’
Steadily she looked at him. ‘Key?’
‘I was trying to be funny.’ He was sheepish and clearly drunk. ‘Epic fail.’
‘You’re gas,’ she said, with polite sarcasm. ‘Key.’
He handed it over. ‘How will we get in?’
‘Knock. I’ll open the door.’
‘What if you’re asleep? Oh, but you won’t be, right? You have your big-deal presentation on Monday to prepare for.’
She rolled her eyes, fought her way back down the pub, then slipped out into the mild night, exhaling with relief.
FORTY-SIX
Ferdia opened his eyes into darkness. He felt he’d been asleep for a long time during which the world had altered irreversibly, but it was only 1.43 a.m., less than an hour since he and Sammie had gone to bed. Now he was wide awake with so much of the night still to get through.
The reality of losing Sammie had settled in him, like a ball on a lottery wheel coming to a final rest. It was too hard to stay here with these thoughts. Sliding from the bed, he located some sweats and a T-shirt on the floor, grabbed his phone and slipped out onto the deck. Listening to the rush and hush of the waves, he lay on a lounger and his eyes began to adjust to the dark. The white foam of the wave caps became visible and – What the fu–! A noise! Behind him! A rat?
A woman’s voice – Nell’s – said, ‘Who’s that? Ferdia? You gave me a fright!’
‘You gave me a fright!’ His heart was pounding hard.
‘What are you doing out here?’
‘Having a fucking heart attack, thank you very much! Why are you here?’
‘I’m stuck. On my work thing.’ She took the lounger next to him. ‘I came out to ring my friend.’
‘Work away.’
‘Ah, no, I’ll wait.’
They sat without speaking, the only sound that of the sea roaring and pulling. When his heartbeat slowed down, he said, ‘Nice parents-in-law you’ve got.’
Her clothes rustled as she shrugged. ‘They’ll be dead soon.’
He snorted with involuntary laughter. ‘Did you really say that?’
‘I dunno. Did I? So, what are you doing, sitting out here on your own?’
The darkness made it easier to admit things. ‘Sammie’s going away on Tuesday. We’re officially done, and I feel, you know …’ He felt rather than saw her nod. ‘Aren’t you going to hit me up with some patronizing shizz about young love?’ he asked.
‘I’m only thirty. I’m young.’
‘To me, you’re old.’
Quickly she sat up and swivelled her body so she was on the edge of her lounger, much