“You just did.”
“Did you honestly come here just to tell me all this? To play the ‘big brother’ role and give me a talking-to?”
Ryan’s face falls, suddenly serious. He reaches his hand across the bar to mine. “No, Nick. That’s not why.”
I shake my head, confused.
“You need to come home.”
“I’ll be home in a few days. Five at most.”
“You need to come back tonight, with me. I’ve already bought you a ticket.”
He gets to his feet and leans over to pay the barman.
“Why the hurry? I don’t get it…”
“We’re running out of time, Nick,” he says, smiling sadly at me. “And we need you.”
65
Nick
We arrive at Dublin airport in the afternoon. We left overnight, flew for almost twelve hours, and didn’t sleep a wink. Ryan must really hate me: he’s done two long-haul flights, back-to-back; his eyes are elsewhere, framed by dark circles, and he looks like he could break into a fight at any moment.
We head straight for our parents’ house, where Ian’s been staying the night to keep Mum company. We get out of the taxi and Ryan unlocks the door, trying not to disturb anyone who might be sleeping. From what I can understand, no one has slept much in the past few days.
When we get inside, Evan appears from the kitchen. “Oh fuck, you’re back!” He flies towards us and throws himself into Ryan’s arms.
“It’s okay, kid. We’re home,” Ryan says, trying to comfort him.
“It was a fucking terrible night, Ryan,” Evan says, his eyes leaking with tiredness and his voice with concern. “Your mum didn’t sleep at all. She’s napping on the sofa.”
“How’s Dad?” Ryan asks, his voice contorted.
“He’s in his room. He didn’t want to come out.”
Ryan sighs heavily, before following Evan into the kitchen. When we step through the doorway, Ian jumps to his feet.
“Jesus, Ryan. What the fuck have you done?”
“Hi to you, too.”
“You could’ve at least stayed for one day. Did you take two flights back-to-back?”
Ryan shrugs.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Mum came over early this morning,” Evan says. “She’ll be back later.”
“What about you? Did you stay here all night?” Ryan asks, his tone accusing.
Ian places a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “We both stayed here.”
Ryan nods, serious: but I know that, inside, he’s close to tears.
My dad’s not well. He got suddenly worse. Depression, everyone’s saying. He won’t leave his room, doesn’t want anyone around; he won’t eat, barely sleeps, and speaks even less than usual. The whole family has come together, trying to help him through it. Everyone was here: apart from yours truly, because I was busy. Doing what? Oh, yeah: a photo shoot on a stupid fucking beach. And my brother had to do a twelve-hour flight just to come and tell me this in person, because he knew I wouldn’t answer my phone, that I couldn’t have done that journey alone. That I wouldn’t have had the courage to set foot in this house after abandoning everyone again.
