‘It will be great to have you so close again.’ Connie nodded enthusiastically.
Fin switched his attention to Connie. He could see she was genuinely happy for her bestie, but if he wasn’t mistaken he could see a sheen of moisture in her eyes. He smiled at her because he realised it must be hard for her, knowing—owning—that her debilitating grief had played a role in driving Sweeney away.
‘I’m applying to do teaching at Monash University,’ he continued, his gaze returning to meet his mother’s. ‘I want to teach non-hearing and non-verbal kids.’
Even saying it out loud, it fit like a second skin. Signing with Winnie and teaching the other kids on the team to sign had sparked a passion he’d let go when his granny died, but when he’d woken this morning with this fully formed plan in his head, he’d known this was where his entire life had been leading. He’d been able to sign before he could properly talk.
Frankly, he couldn’t believe this epiphany hadn’t happened earlier.
‘Oh, Fin.’ His mother sat forward in the chair, her eyes glassy now. ‘Your dad would be so proud.’
‘Yeah.’ Fin nodded. He would.
But he wasn’t doing it for his dad. He wasn’t even doing it for his granny. He was doing it for himself because it spoke to him. It slotted into some place deep inside he hadn’t known was empty until now.
Doing this would fill his soul.
‘So I’m heading back to Dublin. Today. I have to give a month’s notice so I expect it’ll take me maybe six weeks to wind everything up there. I’m sorry—’ He reached across the gap between them and squeezed his mother’s hand. ‘I know I was supposed to stay for another two days.’
She squeezed back and shook her head. ‘It’s fine. Go.’ She grinned. ‘The sooner you get there, the sooner you’ll be home.’
Fin returned the grin. He hadn’t thought his mother would object too much.
‘But… here’s the deal. You need to tell everyone’—he glanced between his mother and Connie and back again—‘before I come back that Feeney is over. I’m not stepping foot back in Ballyshannon unless everyone knows the engagement is off.’
That stopped the grin dead in its tracks and the two women exchanged glances again. Fin withdrew his hand as a veritable dictionary of words was telepathically communicated between them, before, as if they’drehearsedit, they turned pleading gazes on him.
He shook his head before either could speak. ‘Nope. That was the deal,’ he reiterated. ‘After we left, you were going to tell the town we’d split.’
‘Well, yes,’ his mother blustered. ‘But we thought we’d be able to leave it for a few months at least.’
‘Six months would be ideal,’ Connie added.
Fin almost rolled his eyes as he wondered how many more cake tastings they’d set up. ‘You’ve got six weeks,’ he said, his tone brooking no argument.
‘But…’ Connie’s brow scrunched. ‘How does Sweeney feel about this?’
‘Sweeney feels exactly the same.’
Okay, they hadn’t talked about it specifically, but he didn’t have to ask her to know she wanted this farce over, too. And he wasn’t going to let either of the mothers divide and conquer. They had to know he and Sweeney were simpatico on this point.
‘Oh dear.’ His mother sighed as she reached out and took Connie’s hand. ‘What are we going to tell them, Con?’
Findidroll his eyes this time at his mother’s sudden feebleness. He wasn’t picking up what she was putting down. ‘I think you both have a track record in telling whoppers. I’m sure you’ll think of something.’
Although perhaps that wasn’t such a good idea. Knowing their sudden penchant for drama, he and Sweeney could well end up with a debilitating illness or fuckingconsumption. ‘Tell them we realised we should never have made the leap from friends to lovers.’
Because god knew that was the truth. A good night’s sleep might have done wonders for his occupational clarity but, given his invitation to the FRG had not been accepted, he was feeling less positive about his and Sweeney’s ability to come out of this with anything close to the friendship they had a month ago.
And that might have been on them, but the mothers had set the wheels in motion.
‘God.’ Connie’s hand fluttered over her chest. ‘The wave of sympathy, the pitying looks.’ She sighed. ‘Marjorie Weaver.It’ll be unbearable.’
‘Indeed,’ his mother agreed. ‘Quite inconvenient.’
Fin snorted. Good. Maybe they deserved a little discomfort for their part in the charade. ‘Be that as it may.’ He stood and fished the ring out of his pocket, placing it on the arm of his mother’s chair. ‘Do it before I’m back, orI’lltell everyone the truth. Thewholetruth and nothing but the truth.’
His mother picked up the ring and she and Connie stared at it as though it was one of their chickens come home to roost.
