‘The.. . here?’ I point at the tiled floor, stalling for time. ‘What areyoudoing in the laundry room?’ Yes, I know. I sound about twelve years old. I can tell as, beside me, Paisley smothers a smile.
‘Ballet was cancelled, so Agnes came to collect me. Also, I was looking for you. Also, I was looking for the cat food.’
‘But we don’t have a cat.’ I feel my brows lower. ‘So we shouldn’t have any cat food. Anywhere.’
‘I’ve been buying cat things with my pocket money,’ Sorcha answers sheepishly, pulling open the cupboard under the sink. As she does so, it seems as though an entire pet shop falls out. ‘Damn and buggery.’
‘Hey. That’s not the kind of language we use in this house.’
‘No, it’s not,’ she agrees straightening. ‘I’ve heard you say much worse things.’
‘When?’ I can’t believe I’m arguing with her. In the laundry. About... swearing? Standing in the laundry... with a half naked Paisley.
‘On the phone to Uncle Mac. Or Uncle Will. Sometimes to Flynn.’
And I can’t believe I’m being played. She’s guilting me about swearing to distract me from—
‘A cat. Darlin’. We’ve had this discussion before. We’ve no time for a cat. It wouldn’t be fair on the thing. You and I are out working or at school all day, and it’s not right for us to expect Agnes to take care of one more thing.’
‘But Agnes is okay with it, Daddy. She even suggested we go to the cat home on our way here. She said if there was ever a day to get a kitty and for you to be a-peas about it, though I think she meant happy, because how could you be peas?’ she asks, hands in the air. ‘Anyway, she said today would be the day.’
Should have kept the blinds closed. God knows what Agnes has seen—obviously enough incriminating evidence to get Sorcha a kitten.
Or maybe there’s method in this madness... maybe the kitten is an epic distraction? And Agnes a fucking genius? These are thoughts that are solidified as, grasping a small pouch of kitten food, my daughter smiles as she holds out her free hand to Paisley.
‘Come and meet my Princess kitty,’ she says.
Chapter 22
PAISLEY
‘You’re looking delightfully chipper.’
Damn. I thought maybe she wasn’t home. I take two steps backwards along the hall and turn and face Chastity through her open home office door. Sitting in front of her supersized chrome screen, she has one of her skin flix playing out silently. Ridiculously, I feel my cheeks heat as I think of my own dirty images—or the photos stored on my phone. I can’t believe I did such a thing.Or how I can’t wait to look at them.
‘And I notice you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes.’ She peers over the dark frames sitting on the end of her nose.
‘Would you believe it’s laundry day?’
‘I’d believe dirty stop out more. What is the world coming to?’ she mutters, biting back a smile as she turns her attention back to her screen.
‘Editing?’
‘Hmm. I need to finish this, then load it to the website later this evening. I’m going to take a break soon,’ she says, stretching her arms high above her head.
‘Gimme a few minutes to shower—’
‘To dispose of the evidence?’
‘I was going to offer to put the kettle on, but if you’re going to tease... ’
‘Tea!’ she says, baring her teeth. ‘I would shag you for tea, and I don’t even swing that way.’
‘No shagging necessary. Just give me a few.’
When I get to the kitchen, scrubbed clean and still smiling in yoga pants with wet hair, Chastity is already at the tastefully scrubbed and whitewashed table.
‘I fancied gin instead,’ she says, holding a lime in her hand. Two bowl-like glasses sit in front, half filled with clear liquid and ice. ‘Lime?’
