Eddie guffaws and returns to the kitchen to finish his cup of tea.
‘You’re the baby. We care about you, that’s all.’ He ruffles my hair in a familiar but patronising manner, and I force back the niggle of irritation that shoots through my core.
‘So, were you serious about the physiotherapist job with the team?’
I’ve spent the last three years specialising in rehabilitation therapy and while it’s been rewarding, my ambition is to gain a permanent place with the rugby team, treating the athletes and travelling the world on tour with them. I’ve been daydreaming about it since Eddie made the team eight years ago. Secretly, it’s one of the reasons I allowed Mam to talk me into coming home.
‘Thereisa job coming up.’ Eddie stares at me, leaning against the wooden kitchen worktop, blowing on his tea noisily. The tone of his voice is cautious, like a warning, but I’m struggling to find the root of it.
‘But?’ I can only assume it’s been filled already. There’s some sort of law that the club has to advertise the position externally, yet they’ve probably already appointed a candidate and the interviews are a nothing but a façade.
‘The club is planning on hiring another physiotherapist. You know yourself, injuries are frequent in this level of contact sport and the Six Nations begins in a couple of weeks. But still, I don’t want you applying for it.’ Eddie takes a mouthful and jumps as the tea scalds his throat. It’s nothing compared to the burning sensation in my gut at his revelation.
‘You don’t think I’m good enough?’ My right hand clutches my empty orange juice glass tight enough to crack it. It drops to the floor, smashing into a thousand dangerous shards along with any hope of a new position.
‘Quite the contrary. You’re the best physiotherapist I’ve ever met. Look what you did for Matthew.’ He refers to our brother who was a wheelchair user for a year following a car accident. Matthew can now walk again following intense therapy, albeit with the support of a stick.
Reaching for the dustpan and brush from under the sink, I begin to sweep the splintered shards from the floor, wondering why exactly my brother doesn’t want me to go for the job, if he does truly think I’m the best physiotherapist he’s ever met.
An opportunity like this would make settling back into Dublin so much sweeter, because I’d be travelling anytime the team did. I’ve already met most of the players and the coach. I know I’m young but I have the qualifications and the connections.
When the last grain of glass is binned, I voice my biggest fear, the one that’s perpetually haunted me since my childhood days. ‘Are you embarrassed of me?’
Eddie lets out another deafening guffaw and sets down his mug. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. But if you think for a second I’m going to let my filthy-minded teammates have daily access to my precious little sister, you can think again. It’s non-negotiable.’
I should have guessed. It’s easy for him to dismiss the prospect when he has his life in perfect order. It might be non-negotiable for him, but I will never get an opportunity like it again. Why should his concerns about his teammates stop me from following my dreams? Surely lightning doesn’t strike twice in real life?
Me being me, not wanting to cause a scene, I don’t voice my opinion and he changes the subject. Yet, I can’t concentrate on anything that comes out of his mouth. The idea of applying for the position consumes me. I love rugby, I love travelling, and I am a good physiotherapist. I know I could do great work with them.
Since I was fifteen, I’ve always done what’s expected of me. I’ve followed every order, met and surpassed every academic expectation. I graduated from the Royal College of London with a Master’s. I saved every month to put a deposit on my own place at the age of only twenty-four. I’ve never broken a rule in my life. Never gotten into an ounce of trouble, and where has that got me?
I’m beginning to think something is going to have to change, because Eddie and the others controlling every aspect of my existence is suffocating me. Maybe it’s time I braved the big bad world without my family’s backing for once?
This job would mean the world to me, literally – I would get to travel it while still having a base in Dublin near my family. It’s win-win. If I don’t apply, I’ll always wonder.
It might be the most rebellious thing I’ve ever done, but my mind is made up. If the job comes up I’m going to apply. If I happen to be successful, I’ll deal with the consequences then.
ChapterTwo
OLLIE
‘We’re getting married.’ Anita thrusts a pale, dainty left hand underneath my face, where a sparkling diamond glints under the brilliant hotel lighting.
Swallowing down the bile rising in my throat, I turn to Luke for confirmation. My own fuckingbrotheris engaged to the only woman I have ever loved. He even has the audacity to smile at me as his head bobs like a nodding duck, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. His fists are clenched at the side of his body, a sure sign he’s anticipating confrontation. Does he think I’ll blow in here? In the lobby of our parents’ five-star hotel? Even though my knuckles burn with an unyielding desire to rearrange his smug face, I have a little more class than that.
When I was summoned back to Westport for a family dinner of all things, I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect to see Anita here, let alone draped all over my only biological brother.
‘Congratulations.’ It’s a struggle, but I just about manage to mimic the type of pleasant tone one might use when discussing the weather with a passing stranger. Well, I suppose Anita is a stranger now, because the girl I once knew – the one I used to run the fields with between our houses, the one I climbed the old oak trees with – is long gone. The girl I awkwardly bumped teeth with the first time we kissed, the girl who used to sneak in my bedroom window after dark. The girl in whom I confided all of my hopes and dreams, she only exists in my memory now, and she knows it. It’s reflected in the emptiness behind her Arctic-blue eyes.
She gave me an ultimatum, and apparently she meant it. The prospect of her becoming my sister-in-law is frankly something that never even occurred to me as a possibility.
We dated on and off for years, but our paths steered us in separate directions. Anita owns a small bakery in town. She is a complete homebird. I’ve always had my own ambitions and playing rugby for my country meant leaving the town where I grew up. Even knowing this, I always thought somehow we’d find our way back together in the end, the same way we’d found ourselves back in each other’s beds more weekends than not in the last ten years. She’s the one woman I hold on a pedestal, my best friend. And she’s thrown it all away with the one person who thrives on undermining me.
Our parents enter the lobby, dressed in their formal evening wear for dinner. My mother greets Anita first, embracing her and kissing each cheek as if she is the prodigal daughter returned home. She is of course, but she returned with the wrong son. As they coo over the ring, Luke slaps me on the back.
‘No hard feelings, brother.’ It’s not exactly a question, but there’s an underlying warning in the delivery of his words. We may have been raised by the same parents but we couldn’t be any more different, from the way we look to our personalities and our respective life choices. It seems the only thing we have in common is our taste in women.
I say what I’m supposed to say. This time I even manage to muster a little more conviction. ‘Anita and I were only kids.’ I don’t mention that even up until four months ago, we spent every free weekend we could scrape together with our limbs entangled. Our relationship was casual, off more often than it was on. Anita has her own struggles, crippled with social anxiety. She couldn’t contemplate the attention dating a professional rugby player would bring.
