Obediently, Sammie got up and followed her into the hallway.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah. Like, I’m sorry, Nell, I didn’t encoura–’
‘Stop. You did nothing wrong.’
The kitchen door opened and Nell tensed. If Liam came out – But, no, it was Ferdia. He made for Sammie, touched her arm and, fluidly, pulled her against him. ‘You okay?’ he whispered to her. He turned to Nell. ‘Are you okay?’
Probably not, but this wasn’t about her. ‘Good. You?’
‘Yeah.’ He cradled the back of Sammie’s head as she pressed her face against his chest. They were young and beautiful and clearly loved each other. Watching them, Nell felt bereft.
FIFTY-TWO
‘I love dogs,’ Johnny slurred, slightly. ‘Dogs are just pure … goodness. I’m serious, Jessie, I’m going to be a dog-minder.’
‘Okay, Johnny, but now go to sleep.’ She was sitting up in bed beside him, trying to read tomorrow’s papers on her iPad.
‘You think I’m drunk. I’m not drunk,’ he stated bleakly.
Maybe he wasn’t. Neither was she, despite all the drinking they’d done at that terrible dinner.
‘I’ll be fifty next year. Fifty years old.’ He was lying flat on his back, addressing his remarks to the bedroom ceiling. ‘And I’ve done nothing of worth.’
‘That’s crap.’ She didn’t look up from her screen. ‘What about our girls?’
‘They think I’m a joke. And they’re right. There’s nothing to me, Jessie. Surface all the way down, that’s me. Surface all the way down. No wisdom, no substance, that’s why I wanted you, Jessie. You were so sure of everything, but I can’t keep mooching off you. I’ve got to find my own worth.’
‘Babes, stop. It’s just being around your parents –’
‘Rory, he was another one. He had worth as a person, like. Me and him were a great team. I had the – the charm,’ he almost spat the word, ‘but Rory was the substance.’
‘Johnny, you’ll feel differently in the morning.’
‘I’ve felt like this for a while now. I’m hollow. There’s nothing to me. Jessie, do you love me?’
‘Of course I love you. Sweetie, what is it?’
‘Are we real? Or are we just colleagues who got married? To halve the hotel costs when we’re travelling for work?’
‘Johnny!’ This was so unlike him that she struggled for the right words. ‘Has something happened? To upset you?’
‘Ah, no, don’t mind me. I’ll go to sleep now. Turn off the light.’
‘It’s off.’
‘But it’s bright. Is it the sun? Even the sun is laughing at me.’
Within seconds he was snoring heavily.
She carried on reading, now and again giving him curious, anxious looks. Poor Johnny. Having Canice Casey as a father would dent the most robust of personalities. Was it any wonder that Johnny had become so attached to Rory’s dad, Michael Kinsella? He’d been such a lovely man: calm, wise, kind …
Well, until Johnny and Jessie had fallen for each other and all of that calm, wise kindness had been turned off like a tap.
Sometimes she wondered if Johnny still missed him. On weekends like this, she was sure that he did. But Johnny had been presented with a choice: Jessie or the Kinsellas. He’d picked Jessie. Occasionally Jessie marvelled that they’d ended up together at all. After Rory’s death, she had seen Johnny non-stop, but she’d never considered him as a man: she’d been allotted one love and he’d died. Her work was what had kept her going.
At the time the pressure to keep expanding was relentless. Her big focus was Limerick but premises there were few and far between. Naturally enough, the day a suitable site came free, she’d been up several times in the night with Saoirse. She didn’t trust herself to drive.
‘Wait until tomorrow,’ Rionna had advised.
But it was Spring 2007, boom time, and premises went fast.
Johnny, as he often did, offered to drive her.
It was early evening when they arrived in Limerick. The site looked good. The next step was for the architect to take a look. But Clellia couldn’t come until the next day.
‘Johnny?’ Jessie asked. ‘I don’t know if I could handle a seven-hour round trip home and back for tomorrow morning. If I can get the nanny to stay over with the kids, could you stay the night?’
They’d gone for a sandwich, Jessie peppering Johnny with questions. ‘You don’t think the economy is top-heavy?’ And ‘You don’t think I’m opening shops too quickly?’ And ‘You don’t think people have stopped cooking?’
When they went to the hotel – one of a chain, clean and cheap – Johnny saw her into her room to