‘Okaaaay.’ He glances over and smirks. ‘Well, you know, I have some good-looking guy friends too.’
I twist the tea towel. ‘What?’
He shrugs. ‘Just saying. Like, if you’re into fellas it’s totally—’
‘I’m not!’
Cormac lets out a breath. ‘All right, all right, sorry.’
I swallow at the shame caught in my throat. ‘No, I’m sorry.’
‘So, I can introduce you to Meg then?’
Fuck off, Cormac.
‘Sure, whatever.’
‘Sweet.’
My mind is roaring. I’m sick of lying about this. ‘Actually, I’m pretty tired, to be honest. Should probably take it easy after what happened earlier.’
Cormac frowns for a moment then shrugs. ‘Fair enough.’
We wash the rest of the dishes in silence.
Chapter Three
Cormac changes into a shirt and heads out. I turn on the kettle. I know Mum, Tommy and Sheila will want another cup of tea, but I head back to ask for orders anyway. I pause outside the living-room door as Mum raises her voice.
‘Leave it, Tommy!’
I grip the handle.
‘I know, I know. But, Aoife, what’s he playing at?’
‘It’s not my business any more. I can’t deal with him.’
‘There was always something wrong with him. I told you not to marry him. We—’
‘Tommy!’ Sheila snaps. ‘Not the time.’ Her voice softens. ‘Do you even know where he is?’ No reply. Sheila sighs. ‘What happened? Why can’t you tell us?’
There’s a pause. I lean in, pressing my ear against the door. I jump back as it creaks open, but they already know I’m there. Chairs shift. Mum turns away, rubbing her throat, and Sheila’s smile is way too big.
I force my mouth to work. ‘Tea?’
‘Yes, please,’ says Sheila.
‘Aye,’ says Tommy, his face red. ‘And here, maybe a few biscuits from the bread bin. The fancy ones. Treat yourself.’ He laughs a bit too loudly.
Mum is blinking rapidly.
‘Coming up.’ I close the door behind me and rush back to the kitchen.
I clutch the edge of the counter until my knuckles turn white. I try to breathe away the simmering anger as the kettle boils. I should demand she tell me what she knows. I’m pissed at him too, but he’s my dad. I have a right to know what’s happened.
Ugh.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s best I don’t.
