‘I’m not an alcoholic,’ she snapped.
Gloria shrugged. ‘It’s not my place to judge.’
‘Oh you judge, all right,’ hissed Lillian. ‘Don’t give me that crap. You’ve always judged me.’
‘What you mean is that youfeltjudged,’ Gloria replied with steel in her voice, ‘and you are not the sort of person to feel that unless you know you’ve done something wrong. There are people who hold themselves to very high standards, like darling Lou. Then there are people like you who never feel responsible for anything. So if you feel judged, Lillian, then you are fully aware of your ...’ she paused, searching for the word, ‘misdemeanours.’
‘Misdemeanours!’ Lillian took a giant gulp of her drink. ‘Livingis a misdemeanour in your prissy little copybook. Having sex, having a life, having friends: they’re all misdemeanours!’
Gloria felt the beginnings of a headache.
She had handled this all wrong. Lillian did that to her – made her lash out in a way she never did with other people.
‘I came to ask you to talk to Lou and to try to fix things. Your outburst at her party was very painful for her. She needs you. You’re her mother.’
‘You wish you were her mother!’ shouted Lillian.
Gloria was in full control of herself now.
‘I don’t,’ she said truthfully. ‘I’m her aunt and I love her. This is a pivotal moment in her life. She needs you, Lillian.’
‘If she needs me, why did she leave?’
‘Because you broke her heart.’
Lillian glared at her sister-in-law but took a large glug of her drink just the same. ‘Lou’s too soft,’ she snapped. ‘Not like Toni.’
‘That’s because Toni can see through you and doesn’t take any of your shit,’ Gloria said and was amused to see Lillian’s eyes widen momentarily.
‘Yes, I can swear,’ Gloria said. ‘I’m flesh and blood, Lillian, even though you like to think I’m an old crone with no feelings. Thinking that makes it easier for you, doesn’t it? It made it easier for you fifty years ago. I let you get away with it then but not now. If you don’t fix this with Lou, you will lose her. I can’t say I care for your feelings, Lillian, but I care about my niece. She needs you. If you can drag yourself out of gazing into the mirror of self-obsession for long enough.’
Lillian glared at her and was about to launch into something, but Gloria had had enough.
‘I’ll go,’ she said now, and swept out of the room, letting herself out of a house for the second time that evening. Peacekeeping was a tough mission, no doubt about it.
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning brought another blisteringly hot Sicilian day and, armed with an ice-filled glass of water, Trinity lay on her back in the small single bedroom and checked her messages. Nothing from Pete. Her aunt Dara and new husband Marc had sent a chatty email of the round robin variety to all their friends detailing their honeymoon trip.
They were staying three nights in a resort in the Son Tra peninsula and then, would head to Ho Chi Minh city and stay near what Dara called the ‘historic Saigon post office’. Trinity wasn’t sure why it was historic but didn’t want to ask.
Dara had also included some early photos from the wedding photographer.
‘We all look fabulous! You should see us now – I live in my old khaki shorts and T-shirt. Travelling light is hard!’
Trinity stared at the shots of Dara and Marc’s wedding three weeks previously.
Dara, red-haired like Trinity, also petite and slim in a silk column dress with Trinity on one side in fern-coloured satin, and Marc on the other side, tall and beaming with pride. Pete had been roaming around too, delighted to be at the party, having brought his acoustic guitar along in case there was a session.
Trinity had known then and she’d desperately wanted to tell Dara because her aunt had taken care of her all her life.
Mum and Dad had always been hopeless. Sweet but immature. Trinity no longer got angry over the way they’d behaved – the careless way they’d brought her into the world and dragged her around in their untethered, immature life without thinking for one minute if this was right for a small child. Things had changed when she’d gone to live with her aunt Dara in Limerick. Dara was her mother’s sister and was everything Trinity’s mother was not. Focused, organised, prepared to do anything for her small niece.
Trinity got off the bed and peered out her window at the city spread behind her. This was lovely, an unexpected holiday, but there was no escaping the reality. Her desire to run away made her think she was more her mother’s daughter than she’d ever believed before. But she had to decide what to do at some point. Soon.
Downstairs, Toni seemed eager to make progress with finding Angelo Mulraney.
‘It’s why we came here after all,’ she said.
