The same hand went into the sink again, and she rattled the dishes around to make space. Patrick jumped at the speed her right hand came down on the back of his neck. She plunged his head under the water, and his forehead struck the edge of a thick glass tankard. His scream, reflexive, and submerged, sent a rush of bubbles from his nose and mouth.
‘Jesus Christ Almighty!’ said Mrs Lynch, yanking him up. ‘You could have split your head open on that!’
When she was angry, her sentences came in a low snarl with highs like sparks from embers. She plunged him under again.
He had time to taste the water, and it tasted of cabbage and fish and bleach. She pulled him out again, and he hung from her grip, gasping, and red-eyed. Then she gave him three hard shakes — his prompt.
‘Sorry, Mammy,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’
She held him there, spluttering, his head bowed, a string of saliva hanging from his lip, until, eventually, her body relaxed.
Sorry was his mother’s drug. She needed to hear it for every transgression, real or concocted. She had never heard it from the husband she had kicked out. Not even on the last day she had seen him, when he left her to her insanity, and her fury, and their seven-year-old son, whose blond hair glowed red under the flickering bulb of a Sacred Heart light.
10
Edie left the dining room, the pages of the notebook wrapped inside a napkin, gripped tight in her trembling hand. She stopped, briefly, in the hallway and let out a long breath. Johnny jogged up behind her. She jumped.
‘Hey, hey, hey,’ he said. ‘What’s up?’
‘Oh!’ said Edie. ‘Nothing! It’s... ridiculous. I’m... nervous about dinner.’
‘You need to get some more Prosecco into you.’ He looked at her. ‘Or maybe not. You’re white as a sheet.’
‘I bent down and got up too quickly,’ she said. ‘You were right, though — I don’t know what I was thinking, cooking.’
Johnny put his hands on her shoulders and made her loosen them out. ‘Breathe. It’s our friends. No one cares. Everyone’s drinking away, happy out.
‘You’re playing a blinder.’
‘Thanks,’ said Edie.
‘What do you want me to do?’ said Johnny.
‘Keep everyone entertained for five minutes. I need to nip to the office. Then I’ll get the starters.’
‘I can do that,’ said Johnny.
‘It’s fine — go do your thing.’
She walked down the stairs in to the office, her legs shaking. She went over to the safe, crouched down and punched in the code. She pulled open the door and slipped the pages into one of her folders and closed it again.
Edie stood outside the honesty bar, the heels of her hands pressed against her eyes. She straightened up, took in a deep breath, smiled, and opened the door.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ she said, ‘Dinner is now served.’
Everyone cheered. Johnny held the door open as they filed out and followed Edie down to the dining room. Edie checked she had everyone’s attention before she opened the tall double doors with a flourish. The chatter petered out as they walked in. Laura banged into the back of Helen’s chair when she stopped just inside the threshold, her hand to her mouth.
‘Oh Edie,’ was all Helen could manage. ‘Oh Edie,’ she said again, lifting her hand and waving it in front of her, as if to introduce the room. She turned to the others. ‘You can imagine what this is normally like — formal, elegant... Edie. And this... This—’
‘Designer forest clearing,’ said Clare.
Everyone laughed.
Helen’s eyes, when they met Edie’s were shining. ‘Now, this,’ she said, ‘This is what it feels like to be seen’. Edie bent down to hug her. ‘Thank you,’ Helen whispered in her ear. They embraced for a long time, before pulling apart, both laughing and wiping away tears. ‘And thank you, Johnny.’
‘Pleasure,’ said Johnny. ‘Absolute pleasure.’
‘Come in. Come in, everyone,’ said Edie.
‘I’ll go get the starters,’ said Johnny.
‘Thanks,’ said Edie. She turned to the others. ‘I didn’t do place names, but I did do place photos.’ She smiled.
Clare found hers first. ‘Oh, thank God — no perm.’ She squinted at it. ‘And it looks like I’ve got the hang of Immac.’ She ran a finger across her upper lip, and made a face.
‘That state of me!’ said Laura, holding her photo up. ‘I haven’t changed a bit.’ She leaned into Murph’s. ‘What’s yours?’
He gave her a sad smile as he handed it to her. ‘Me and the love of my life.’
‘Aw, Rosco,’ said Laura. ‘Everyone loved Rosco.’
‘He was my best pal,’ said Murph. ‘No offence to any of ye. But his coat was so soft. And you were all wearing those scratchy duffel ones at the time. And you were cold auld bitches. “Get off me”, “get off me”.’ He sat down.
‘Well, Jesus — Rosco ran away from you altogether,’ said Laura, sitting beside him.
Murph looked at her. ‘Too soon. Too soon...’
Laura squeezed his hand.
‘Sorry, Murph,’ said Edie. ‘It was the only photo I could find of you that wasn’t a big group one.’
‘I know,’ said Murph. ‘Dad — the king of Beara history — and I go through his things after he dies, and I’d say from eleven on, he has one photo. Of his only child. And hundreds of photos of miserable-looking skinny bastards from here. I’m not talking about you, Edie. And I’m definitely not talking about Johnny. The industrial school, obviously.’
Johnny walked in with a tray of starters, and set them on the sideboard inside the door. Edie went over to help him.
Edie’s eyes were on Helen. She was lost in her photo, teary. She looked up at Edie, ‘Thank you,’ she said, smiling. ‘Thank you.’
‘Are those sad tears or happy tears?’ said Murph.
Helen laughed, picking up her napkin to dab her eyes. ‘Happy, of course!’
Murph reached across the table for Helen’s photo.
‘Aw, look at Jess,’ said Laura, pointing to her.
Murph leaned back in his chair and called over to her, ‘There’s been a devastating turn of events.’
Edie spun around to him, her eyes wide, her hand to her chest.
‘Jesus,’ said Murph, holding up his hands. ‘I was just going to say I had no napkin.’
Edie laughed a shaky laugh. ‘That is devastating for me.’
‘Right,’ said Johnny, watching her rearrange the plates. ‘I don’t think there’s much more we can do here.’ He put his arm around her waist and squeezed. Edie squirmed out of his grip.
‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘just... give me a minute.’
As she walked to the table, she straightened her shoulders and smiled as she handed out the starters. Johnny watched her as he did the same at the other side of the table.
‘Did I hear Kevin Crossan died?’ he said.
‘That was last year,’ said Laura.
‘The poor divil.’ said Murph. ‘That must have been hard, all the same. People thinking he had something to do with what happened to Jessie.’
‘Ah, not everyone thought that,’ said Laura.
‘There was a fair few did,’ said Murph. ‘I mean, I always liked Kevin, but we were so young at the time. Later, I was thinking: OK — Jessie’s mam was away, Kevin was minding Jessie, and he says he hears nothing at all — no one coming into the house, no screams from Jessie, no one leaving. Does that make sense to anyone?’
‘He said he had the TV blaring,’ said Laura.
‘It wasn’t a big house, though,’ said Murph. He turned to Helen. ‘OK — you were right next door. Did you not hear anything?’