My eyes roll into my head. Clearly I had it wrong when I said Barry doesn’t like rugby because from the god-like appraisal he awards my brother with, he’s in no way confused about who’s standing in front of him. Entirely used to evoking this type of reaction, Eddie flashes Barry a hundred megawatt smile and extends a powerful hand. I don’t need to look to know his grip on Barry will be ferocious – he does the same to any man within touching distance of me.
‘Eddie Harrington, pleased to meet you.’ His tone doesn’t match his smile.
‘The pleasure’s all mine.’ Barry eventually manages to find his tongue, thirty minutes too late. If I was any way unsure about the decision I made only a couple of minutes earlier, this completely reinforces it.
‘So, you’re having some treatment with my little sister?’ Eddie glances between Barry and me, sizing the situation up.
Strolling purposefully across the kitchen, I head for the freezer rather than the kettle. A girl has to get her kicks somewhere, and Ben & Jerry’s is my go-to for kicks. Over my shoulder I call, ‘He has been, but I think we’re finished now. I’ve done about as much as I can, in all honesty.’
Relief washes over me as I realise I won’t have to do my own dirty work and bluntly tell Barry I don’t want to see him again. It’s a cop out and probably completely unfair of me, but it can’t seriously be a surprise. Sleeping sloths have more chemistry than we do.
‘Really?’ Barry pushes his square-framed glasses up onto his nose, barely glancing at me before returning his attention to the national hero in front of him. I’m used to it. Number two on my personal intimate list openly salivated over my brother, casting me aside any time Eddie was within a mile radius. It’s one of the reasons I never admit to anyone who I am, what my brother does. It’s why I loved living in London. The anonymity provided freedom, excitement and a chance to be myself, rather than a liability, living in the shadow of the sporting legend I’m related to.
Pouring myself a generous glass of orange juice, I don’t bother offering either of the men in the room any. Eddie has his tea, and Barry’s not staying – tonight or any other night.
Taking a large mouthful, I sashay down the narrow corridor towards the woodchipped front door and open it pointedly with a clipped smile. Barry pauses for a second, struggling to tear himself from the magnetic charm of Eddie’s oversized physique.
A layer of thick white frost has settled on the ground and I can see my breath before my face as I speak. ‘It’s fresh out tonight.’ My hint is received as well as the earlier ones.
Thankfully, Eddie places a hand on Barry’s shoulder and guides him along to corridor to take the final step out the front door.
Shuffling from one foot to the other, rubbing his hands together, Barry tries one more time. ‘So, no more, ahem, treatment required?’
‘No, I think the sessions we’ve had have been sufficient. Besides, I’m really busy with appointments at the minute.’ I glance at Eddie, silently urging him to back me up from where he hovers behind me.
‘Yes, there’s a vacancy for a physiotherapist on the rugby team, we’re currently recruiting and as you know, Amy’s the best there is.’
Barry nods a little too enthusiastically. Running a hand through his hair, he clears his throat again. I wish he’d leave, his hesitation’s only making things worse.
For the first time since he realised who my brother is, he turns his attention back to me. ‘Perhaps, we could…’
I shoot him an apologetic look, discreetly shaking my straying curls, still unable to say the N word out loud. Eddie doesn’t suffer with the same problem, cutting him off before he can continue down a very slippery slope.
‘No, buddy, don’t go there. That’s my sister, have a little respect.’
Eddie bangs the front door closed before Barry can utter another word. A frown creases the skin of his tanned face. ‘That was a close call, sis. I don’t know why you put yourself in these situations. You really shouldn’t have men over in the evening for treatments. They get the wrong idea.’ I know what he’s alluding to but that was a long time ago. I’ve learned a lot since.
‘I knew him, knew he was harmless. Besides, I’ve seen more threatening teddy bears than that fella.’
‘Hmm. It’s always the quiet ones though. I don’t like you being one-on-one with male clients like that. Now he knows where you live.’
‘He also knows I have an enormous, overpowering rugby-playing brother, with fourteen other equally sizeable players at his disposal, not to mention the replacements. I’m pretty sure I won’t be hearing from Barry again.’
‘Seriously though, please, stop the evening appointments.’ A pleading look exudes from his huge eyes, eyes that aren’t a million shades from my own. Where his are a dark cocoa, mine are a lighter hazelly chocolate colour.
‘Fine. Though it’s not like there’s much else to do in this place other than work.’ Since returning to Ireland fourteen months ago, I’ve found Dublin distinctly lacking in excitement.
Each weekend in London I used to try somewhere new to eat or drink. College friends were ten a penny, and so were eligible dates. I kissed a few, but rarely took it further. Casual hook-ups have never done anything for me. Mind you, neither have the longer term hook-ups either.
Part of me wants to give up looking for love completely. Dublin feels claustrophobic, the nightlife drab and predictable, and so far, every man I’ve met has been completely uninspiring. The main reason I came home was because my mother pleaded with me until she wore me down asking, knowing full well I can’t say no. But the optimist inside drives me on in my quest. Sunday lunches have become a huge family affair and as I’m the only single sibling left I’m made to sit with the kids. To the rest of my family, I guess I still am one.
‘It’s a good job I have a key to this place.’ Eddie glances round my humble abode thoughtfully.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to stop letting himself into my house anytime he feels like it, but the obedient little sister in me just can’t say the words. I have considered changing the locks, but there’s no point. Besides, there have been times even before tonight where I’ve been grateful for his intrusion. It actually saved me from a serious situation once. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I force away the memory. As time has passed, it’s faded and his protectiveness has grown to be a little overbearing. I’m grateful to have him and the rest of my family looking out for me, but it’s hard to evolve when I’m stuck so tightly under their wings.
‘I hate you living here on your own. I wish you’d moved back in with Mam and Dad.’
‘Don’t! It’s bad enough Mam is in here every day, “sprucing the place up” she calls it. I like it the way it is. You should see the curtains she hung in the sitting room earlier. They’re horrific, like something out of a nineteen fifties nursing home.’
