“And where do you think I learned them all from, Mother Callaghan? Where’s your memories of the time you were called in to see Mrs May after school?”
“That was all your brothers’ fault. And Claire’s,” Mum said, wafting the tea towel in the air. I had a feeling Callum was about to get another strike.
He shook his head, clearly happy to poke the wasps’ nest that was Marie Callaghan. “And if it was, where did they learn it from?”
“Learn what from?” My father walked into the kitchen carrying his newspaper. He’d lost a lot of weight since his mini-stroke and looked a lot healthier.
“Swearing,” I said. “Mum’s trying to wash Callum’s mouth out with soap and water,”
Dad laughed. “That’s unfortunate. I remember Callum watching you shouting at me for something when you first moved over here. Then he repeated what you said and wagged his finger at me, just like you did.” He was speaking directly to Mum.
“I don’t remember!” Mum said, clearly lying.
“I do,” Dad said, his smile broad. He was barely containing his laughter. “The words were ‘you fucking eejit’. Cal even got your accent right!”
This time it was Dad getting hit with the towel as Mum chased him round the kitchen, swearing profusely.
Chapter Thirteen
Elijah
September
“I was reallyhappy when you messaged me yesterday.”
Andrea sat down opposite me at a table in Roast, the restaurant above Borough Market. The last time I had been here had been with Ava. We’d spent the evening talking about places we’d visited and where we wanted to go. She was desperate to see New Orleans, I wanted to go to Reykjavik. We hadn’t made plans but we’d almost made plans about making plans, as if both of us were too afraid to actually say this was something more than the temporary state we’d created.
“I wanted to speak with you anyway,” Andrea said, giving me a nervous smile. It was half two in the afternoon and I’d escaped a stressed out Payton and infuriated Max to meet her for a late lunch. She was in London again, for the second time in less than a week and she’d been messaging me several times a day: nothing full on, just chatty texts about her day and how dismal Leeds was at the moment. “Shall we order something to drink?”
“I’ll just have a lime and soda,” I said to the waiter who had materialised beside us.
She raised her brows. “I’ll have a glass of prosecco,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me for a glass of something sparkly?”
I shook my head. “I’ve got rugby practice later. I’ll have a drink with the lads after.”
“Oh,” she said. “How often do you have practice?”
“Three times a week and usually a game or a practice match on a Sunday,” I said, checking out the menu. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and I was famished. Seph had brought in a huge box of donuts which I’d managed to stay away from, especially when Payton was guarding the last two, looking like a bulldog chewing a wasp at anyone who came close enough to grab one.
“That’s a big commitment,” she said. “Did you replace me with rugby?” There was a laugh, a nervous one and I felt sorry for her.
“I was doing pretty much the same when we were together,” I said. “It wasn’t that often you managed to get up here, so when you did, I skipped the Saturday practice and left you to sleep in on Sunday.”
“I remember that,” she said. “Your man time. It was sweet.”
I was torn between annoyance that she had never thought to come and watch me play a sport I’d loved from being a kid and pity for her as I knew where her conversation was leading. I was also infuriated that she called rugby ‘man time’ and thought it was ‘sweet’.
Ava watched most weeks and sometimes had turned up towards the end of practice, even when her sisters and Vanessa and Victoria weren’t there. Granted, she had more connections with over half her siblings playing too, but she’d never been before we’d been a thing and I’d held on to that.
“I’m not sure rugby’s been described as sweet before,” I said. “Have you chosen what you want to eat?”
I needed to order. I was starving.
“I’ll have what you’re having,” she said, biting her lips together.
“I’m having the steak,” I said. “Are you sure you want that? Why don’t you have the monkfish instead?”
“You’re right. You know me too well.”
