M. It’s serious. Stop ignoring me
I do ignore her and head home for dinner.
It’s hard to concentrate on anything other than the tension and sadness round the table. Mum has dark rings under her eyes and she’s picking at her food. Sheila and Tommy look exhausted, but they’ve got sad, pitying smiles constantly plastered on their faces.
Even Cormac is quiet. I’ve been avoiding talking to him too so I don’t have to lie about Paul. I’m carrying so many lies.
There’s not a single person I can be honest with. I can’t stand it.
Almost as much as I can’t stand the piercing light from the street as I force some stew into my mouth.
The visions are so strong here. I don’t have to see out the window to know that ‘young’ Brigid is outside. She’s always there. Always angry at the ghostly soldiers raiding the house next door. The vision feels like it’s on a loop.
The crows never stop shrieking.
‘Those birds are doing my nut in,’ Tommy says, rubbing his temple.
I swallow at a lump in my throat.
Mum places a hand on mine ‘OK, love?’
Everyone is looking at me. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, not feeling very hungry. Can I eat this later, Sheila?’
‘Of course, son. Tommy get a Tupperware, would ya?’
Tommy goes to open his mouth then softens. ‘Leave it there, Michael. I’ll put it away for you.’
Emotionally available Tommy seems to require a lot of effort on his part. I know I should be more appreciative, but it’s just another lie. Nobody is being truthful about how they feel. They’re treating me like I can’t handle what is going on with Dad, like I can’t handle anything. I hate being poor little sensitive Michael.
I reject a call from Meg and excuse myself. I go upstairs and lock the bathroom door. Huddled black shapes on the windowsill outside rustle their feathers and one leans forward to scrape its hooked beak down the glass.
I turn on the tap, take a towel from the hot press and scream into it.
I’m walking to the hospital the next day when Cormac calls. I let it ring out, but he dials again.
‘Hello?’
‘Cuz, what’s up?’
‘Heading to see Dad. You?
‘Oh, nothing, heading to work. Just seeing if you want to hang out later?’
My neck sweats. ‘Oh, I kinda have plans.’
The line is quiet for a second. ‘With Paul?’
Fuck.
‘Yeah, we’re just going to watch a film or something.’
‘Oh, OK.’
A high-pitched screech in the background makes me wince and I pull the phone away from my ear for a moment. ‘What was that? Sorry, would you like to join us or…’
Another screech. ‘No, no,’ says Cormac. ‘I’ll leave you two to it.’
‘Sorry, you should come and—’
