‘Satisfied?’
‘Satisfied that you’ve lied to me? No way. You’re living in my house; I deserve the truth.’
But rather than argue back, she looked about to burst and stormed out. He heard the front door slam.
He ate his overdone toast, made another coffee. He wasn’t going to go looking for her. He thought about calling Marco but Marco would sayI told you so. And he’d be right.
Gio was surprised when he heard the front door open less than ten minutes later and rather than sneak off upstairs to avoid him, Marianne came into the kitchen and sat down opposite him at the table.
‘I promised myself that if we argued, I wouldn’t walk away.’ She looked up at him through eyes that were dry now but the red rims suggested she may have been crying before. ‘Can I explain?’
He shrugged, tired of the same old routine.
‘It turns out I couldn’t stomach the smell of stale booze in that pub. I got there on the first day, opened the door and I almost threw up. I left, I called them when I got a couple of streets away, I told them that my accommodation had fallen through, that I had nowhere to stay. I apologised; they said it was regrettable. That was it.’
Was it believable? Yes. Was it true? He had no idea.
‘Gio, I swear that’s the truth.’
‘Then why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because… I had a job and then I jacked it in. I knew how disappointed you’d be.’
‘And I am… but not when I know the reason.’
‘I guess it was silly to have even taken the position in the firstplace but it was near you, I wanted a chance to see at least one of my boys and start trying to make amends.’
He wondered, was that the wording they used at AA? Did that mean she really did go to those meetings?
‘What have you been doing every day, Mum?’
‘I’ve been wandering around town, keeping a low profile in case, you know…’
‘In case I found out.’ He ran a hand across his jaw. ‘Didn’t you realise that sooner or later, you’d have had to tell me? Without any money coming in?—’
‘I know, you’d have found out. But I’m looking for alternative work, I promise. And if in a couple of weeks, I don’t find any, then I’ll move on.’
He let the words settle. She was shivering and he realised she had a coat but it wasn’t thick enough to stand up to late autumn temperatures, never mind the winter chill once it arrived.
Without asking, he got the carton of soup from the fridge, tipped it into a saucepan and warmed it up for her. She sat there in silence, letting him digest her revelations.
As he served the soup with a bread roll on the side, he watched her. It was as though she’d removed a mask and now he could see vulnerability, the fear she’d likely kept hidden once upon a time behind laughs and smiles conjured up by the evils of alcohol. And instead of making her talk any more, he let her be, let her eat, let her feel as though she was safe.
He watched as she used the last of the bread roll to mop up the remnants of soup in her bowl. As she’d eaten, he’d thought about telling her to leave, to go back up north and find work there. It would get him off the hook, let him go back to the way things were; it would be easier. But watching her, he was sure she was telling the truth, that she was doing her best to get herself together. In all the times she’d claimed it before, he’d never seenher quite so determined. Or was it his wishful thinking making him view her that way?
Whatever one it was, he knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t see this through. If she messed it up and eventually left then that would be it. He wasn’t sure even he had it in him after this to give her yet another chance. There was being kind and then there was self-preservation and sometimes looking after yourself became the only way to survive.
She put her bowl onto her plate and took it over to the sink without looking at him. He heard the plate clatter against the draining board as she misjudged the distance.
‘Gio, I promise I am trying.’
He said nothing.
‘I’m looking for more work; I’m doing my best.’ She turned around when she heard him push his chair back from the table. ‘Where are you going?’
‘I need to get us some dinner. I’ll grab takeaway, save either of us cooking.’ He paused in the doorway. ‘Will you be here when I get back?’
‘Do you want me to be?’
