Grown Ups

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Grown Ups Page 48

by Marian Keyes


  Jessie was his best hope but Jessie was off in the kitchen readying the next elaborate course: he could only hope he survived to eat it.

  A sip of water didn’t help, tears were streaming down his face, and finally Ed asked, ‘You okay there?’

  Manfully, Johnny waved away his concern. ‘Bread. Down the wrong way.’

  ‘Thought for a minute you were choking,’ Ferdia said.

  ‘That’d be a shame,’ Johnny croaked. ‘To die on my birthday.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have died,’ Ferdia said. ‘One of us would have tried the Heimlich manoeuvre.’

  ‘You know what happened recently?’ Ed asked. ‘Mr Heimlich? The man who invented the Heimlich manoeuvre? Finally, at the age of eighty-seven, he got to do it on someone.’

  ‘And it worked?’ This was from Liam, right down at the end of the table. ‘It’d be a bit mortifying if he did it and then the person died.’

  Liam really did bring the snark to any situation.

  ‘Like Mr Segway,’ Ferdia said. ‘Said they were totally safe, then died on one.’

  ‘In fairness,’ Ed said, ‘his only claim was that you’d never fall over on one.’

  ‘So what happened?’ Johnny, despite his resentment, was interested.

  ‘He accidentally drove one off a cliff.’

  ‘Oh, God.’ Nell dissolved into giggles. ‘Started believing his own publicity?’

  ‘Got high on his own supply,’ Ferdia said.

  ‘You’d know about that.’ Liam threw his nephew a dark look.

  Ferdia glared back.

  So the feud between those two was on again? What was it this time?

  He’d ask Jessie, she’d know. Here she came, carrying a trayful of sorbets.

  ‘Palate cleansers!’ she declared. ‘Lemon and vodka.’ She resumed her spot at the head of the table.

  ‘What about us?’ Bridey piped up. ‘We can’t possibly have vodka, we’re far too young.’

  ‘On it,’ Jessie said.

  Course she was, Johnny thought. Fair play to her. Never dropped the ball.

  ‘Just lemon for you guys.’

  Bridey issued stern instructions to the younger kids that if their sorbets tasted ‘in any way funny’ they must desist from eating them with immediate effect.

  Jessie resumed her spot at the head of the table. ‘Everyone okay?’

  Cheerful noises of assent rose, but when the hubbub quietened down, Cara said, ‘I’m bored out of my skull.’

  Good-humoured chortles ensued and someone murmured, ‘You’re gas.’

  ‘I’m not joking. I am bored to tears.’

  Jesus Christ, was she serious?

  ‘I mean, sorbets?’ Cara asked. ‘How many more courses do we have to sit through?’

  Okay, Cara had one or two issues. To put it mildly. But she was a sweetheart, one of the nicest people he’d ever met.

  Johnny’s gaze went nervously to Ed – it was his job to keep his wife under control. If that wasn’t a very sexist thought and, yes, he admitted it was. Ed looked stupefied with confusion.

  In an attempt to pull things back to normal, Johnny adopted a light-hearted tone. ‘Ah, come on now, Cara. After all the work Jessie has done …’

  ‘But the caterers did it.’

  ‘What caterers?’ someone asked.

  ‘She always has these things catered.’

  Jessie would never use caterers. Cooking was her thing.

  Up and down the table, the mood was one of scandalized commotion. Why was Cara – normally the loveliest person – saying such stuff?

  ‘How much have you had to drink?’ Ed asked Cara.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Because I had that bang –’

  ‘– on the head!’ Ed finished her sentence and his relief was audible. ‘She got a bang on the head earlier. A sign fell off a shop and hit her.’

  ‘That’s not what happened.’

  ‘We thought she was okay.’

  ‘You wanted me to be okay,’ Cara said. ‘I knew I wasn’t.’

  ‘You should go to A and E!’ Jessie was struggling to recalibrate to her default nurturing and bossy personality. ‘I insist you go this very moment. Why are you even here?’

  ‘Because Ed needs Johnny to loan him the money,’ Cara said.

  Right on cue, Jessie asked, ‘What money?’

  ‘From the other bank account,’ Cara said. Then, ‘Oh, God. I wasn’t meant to say that.’

  ‘What bank account?’ Jessie asked. ‘What loan?’

  ‘Cara, the hospital, right now.’ Ed stood up.

  ‘Johnny …?’ Jessie asked.

  However, he still had something in his arsenal. ‘Jessie? What caterers?’

  Ferdia glared at Johnny. ‘You’re really doing this to her?’

  ‘I’m entitled to know.’

  Ferdia’s tone had many layers. ‘You? You’re entitled to nothing.’

  In Johnny’s stomach, eels of dread slithered. Ferdia knows. But how?

  Pinned by the collective gaze, Jessie looked panicked. ‘Yes, okay, yes!’ She sounded exasperated. ‘Caterers. Sometimes. So what? I’ve five children, I run a business, there are only so many hours in the day and –’

  Cara stood up. ‘I’d better go to the hospital before I fall out with every one of you. Come on, Ed.’

  ‘Hey, Cara, do you really like my new hair?’ Eighteen-year-old Saoirse sounded wobbly.

  ‘Don’t ask me that!’ Cara said. ‘You know how much I love you.’

  ‘That means it’s bad?’

  ‘Oh, sweetie. That fringe makes your face look like the moon.’

  At Saoirse’s devastated expression, Cara said, ‘I’m really sorry, Saoirse, you shouldn’t have asked me … But it’s only hair, it’ll grow back. Come on, Ed.’

  ‘Cara, before you go?’ Liam leant forward, his eyes narrowed. ‘Did you really think that massage I gave you was … What was the word you used? “Dreamy”?’

  ‘I hated it. Forget being a masseur. You are terrible.’

  ‘Hey!’ Nell jumped in to defend her husband. ‘He’s doing his best.’

  ‘Why are you bigging him up?’ Cara asked.

  Suddenly, Liam was scrambling to sit upright. He smelt blood. ‘Why wouldn’t she back me up? Tell us, Cara, come on, tell us.’

  ‘Cara, come on.’

  ‘No, Cara.’ Nell’s voice was sharp.

  ‘Bridey!’ Jessie was urgent. ‘Take the kids up to my room. Put on a movie. Go!’

  Even as TJ, Dilly, Vinnie and Tom were being ushered out by Bridey, Liam was demanding, ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Don’t!’ Nell said. ‘Cara, it’ll come back on you too.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Liam’s tone was urgent, ‘why my wife wouldn’t stick up for me.’

  ‘No. I’m not saying any more –’

  Nell suddenly spoke up. ‘Liam, stop it. I was at Johnny’s flat today.’

  ‘Doing what?’ Johnny sounded scalded.

  ‘Meeting Ferdia.’

  ‘Unbelievable!’ Johnny exclaimed.

  ‘Hey!’ Ferdia yelled at him. ‘I saw you too!’

  ‘Where?’ Now it was Jessie’s turn to sound panicked.

  ‘Mum, I’m very sorry.’

  ‘Hold the fuck on,’ Liam croaked. ‘Nell? Nell, you were in that flat with … him?’ He threw his head at Ferdia.

  Jessie was still addressing Ferdia: ‘What did you see?’ Her face was the colour of parchment.

  ‘Johnny and Izzy,’ Ferdia said. ‘Coming out of the flat. I’m sorry, Mum.’

  ‘Nell?’ Liam asked again, his voice deadly calm. ‘What were you doing with that little prick?’

  ‘You can’t be angry at Nell.’ Saoirse was in tears. ‘I know about you and Robyn.’

  ‘What?’ several voices demanded.

  ‘Is it true?’ Ed asked Liam, who shrugged in irritable assent.

  ‘She’s a teenage girl!’ Ed exploded. ‘Almost a child.’

  ‘She’s no child.’

  �
��Johnny?’ Jessie seemed on the edge of tears. ‘Were you really in the flat with Izzy?’

  ‘It wasn’t what it sounds like.’

  ‘Cara,’ Ed interjected. ‘Why were you at the flat?’

  ‘I thought it was empty.’

  ‘But why were you there?’

  ‘I needed to eat. Chocolate. Then … you know.’ Her scratchy irritability faded to nothing.

  ‘I see.’ Ed sounded calm. He stood up. ‘Well, that’s that.’

  AFTER

  * * *

  Friday Night/Saturday Morning

  I don’t belong here, Nell thought. I never belonged here.

  Everyone was caught up in different crossfires of accusation and defence.

  Most horrible of all was Liam and Robyn. She was so painfully young, only a kid. Not that Liam’s cheating balanced out Nell’s. She felt doubly ashamed: as if she were also to blame for his behaviour. Or perhaps for not noticing.

  Suddenly Nell’s survival instinct kicked in: she needed to leave, pick up Molly Ringwald, clear all of her stuff out of Liam’s apartment and find a place to sleep tonight.

  Ferdia was tensed in his chair, watching her. Meaningfully he glanced at the doorway into the hall.

  Discreetly, she slid from the room, Ferdia following. ‘We need to get your things out of his place,’ he said. ‘We need to go now.’

  ‘It’s better if I do this alone. If we left together this – this would escalate like crazy. Everything’s gone insane. Can we just … take a moment? Let everything calm down. See how things are tomorrow.’

  ‘But where will you stay tonight? Who’ll help you to pack?’

  ‘I’ll call my mate Garr. It’ll be okay. Please, Ferdia. If we both disappear now, it’ll make everything extra-crazy. I’ll message as soon as I’m sorted.’

  He was reluctant to let her go and panic was rising in her. ‘I really have to go,’ she said. ‘I’ll be okay. And, Ferd, don’t let anyone put the guilts on you. Nothing happened with us.’

  ‘It would have if Cara hadn’t arrived.’

  ‘But she did.’

  Outside she hailed a taxi and found her phone. ‘Garr. Serious shit has gone down. I’m leaving Liam, like right now. Any chance you can –’

  ‘I’ll meet you there.’

  ‘I hate to ask but can I … Just for tonight?’

  ‘Stay as long as you like.’

  But she couldn’t do that. He lived in a shared house: there were other people to consider.

  ‘Grab my work stuff.’ She scooted past Garr, piling things into a nylon sack. ‘Portfolios, models. I need it all.’

  ‘Can’t you come back tomorrow?’

  ‘I don’t trust him. He might chuck it out.’

  ‘Even though he was with that young girl?’

  A wave of disbelief made her dizzy. ‘Isn’t it the most messed-up thing ever?’

  ‘What about you and the young lad?’

  ‘Don’t ask me. I’m too goofed to have any clue. I just need to find a place to live and get calm. Priorities.’

  When Rory died, Jessie’s one consolation was that she’d never again have to live through something as bad. Her dad’s passing was painful. Her mother’s was worse. The wound of being cut out of the Kinsella inner circle had taken a while to heal. Giving up on having a sixth child had, for a patch, been oddly unbearable. But nothing had ever come close to the visceral punch of Rory ceasing to exist.

  Over the years, whenever a big drama had blown up, her second or third thought was, I’ve already survived the worst thing that could happen.

  It had made her feel safe. Almost lucky.

  But this – tonight – was as bad as Rory, that same light-headed combination of disbelief and stone-cold certainty: something terrible had happened. She didn’t want it to be true, but everything had already changed for ever. Once more, the jigsaw of her life had been thrown up in the air and she had no idea where the pieces would land.

  For all their tussles about money and work, she’d believed she and Johnny were solid. Suddenly she felt in freefall.

  After all these years, Johnny and Izzy? Her shock was profound – she knew this because she felt as if she were dreaming. Through past experience, she’d learnt that this was how the unbearable was borne: her helpful brain muffled her perceptions so that appalling reality only impacted in manageable drops.

  But despite her brain’s best efforts, waves of fear kept heaving through her. This – Johnny cheating. With Izzy – it had a humiliatingly inevitable feel.

  Even though she was shocked, a voice in her head was saying, Oh, yeah, it’s bad but it’s not really a surprise.

  The mistake she’d made was thinking she had grown out of being the person whom others mocked. She’d got used to being broadly happy. But the wheel of life was just going to keep on turning until it delivered her right back to the person she had always been.

  It wasn’t just her and Johnny who’d fallen apart tonight. The entire family had imploded.

  Sadder still, in this whole mess, was that Cara was once again bingeing and puking. Her body wasn’t able for it – and neither was Ed.

  ‘Mum.’ Bridey broke into her introspection. ‘Movie’s over. It’s ten past eleven. Where will I put Vinnie and Tom? In my bed? I can sleep with Saoirse? You put Dilly to bed, and I’ll do TJ.’ Then, ‘Dilly, behave for Mum. Bad things happened tonight.’

  Quickly, anxiously, Dilly crossed to her bedroom and pulled her duvet to her chin.

  ‘Good girl,’ Jessie said. ‘Go to sleep.’

  ‘Mum …’ Dilly said, as Jessie’s tears splashed onto her. ‘Your crying is falling off your face!’

  ‘Go to sleep. Everything will be okay.’ You shouldn’t lie to children, but now wasn’t the time for the truth.

  Downstairs, Johnny was at the kitchen sink, up to his wrists in soapy water. ‘Babes, please.’ He abandoned the washing-up. ‘Just let me explain. Nothing happened –’

  ‘But it did.’

  ‘Not like … Look. Yes. I know. But can I just explain –’

  ‘Why? You, Izzy, apartment, secret meeting, secret bank account. I can join the dots.’

  ‘Please listen.’ Johnny talked quickly. ‘A few months ago, in the summer, I gave Saoirse and Ferdia a lift to Errislannan. I bumped into Izzy. Totally random. Expected her to be pissed off, she was … friendly. Few days later, she sent a friend request.’

  ‘And you accepted? Without telling me?’

  ‘It was delicate. You wouldn’t have wanted me talking to Izzy. But!’ He spoke over her uprush of complaint. ‘I was trying to find out if they still hated us.’ His mouth sounded clacky. ‘Without straight out asking. I thought if she trusted me first, it would give both of us a better chance with all of them. To be friends again.’

  ‘But we were fine without them.’

  ‘I thought you wanted …’ He looked confused.

  ‘It would have been nice if we were all pals again. But you know …’

  He seemed dismayed. ‘I thought we were both still … hopeful. I guess you dealt with it better than I did.’

  ‘And then you started fucking her.’ Tears began, once again, pouring down Jessie’s face.

  ‘All we did was talk.’

  ‘Have you been using the apartment for lots of … Christ.’

  ‘I swear to you that all we did was talk.’

  ‘That’s the oldest line in the book. Oh, Johnny. I trusted you.’

  The smell of urine, trolleys wedged tightly together and orderlies literally running from cubicle to cubicle.

  Cara had been triaged within an hour of arriving but a steady stream of new arrivals suffering from knife wounds, heart attacks, burns and beatings had pushed her paltry little concussion way down the list.

  Another gurney rushed past Cara and Ed, bearing a man with evident head injuries.

  She took a breath. She felt faint.

  ‘Oh, yeah, that’s right,’ Ed said. ‘You were out for the count last time. You
missed the show.’

  His tone sounded strange.

  ‘Second time in three months we’re in an emergency department because of your hobby.’

  ‘But, Ed …’ Her earlier hair-trigger irritation had entirely vanished. All she was now was confused. ‘I’m ill. It’s an illness.’

  ‘Not so long ago you were telling me there was no such thing.’

  Her thoughts were too muddled and slippery to hold on to.

  ‘Cara Casey?’ A man in scrubs called.

  ‘Here.’ She sat up.

  ‘It’s going to be a while.’ He looked at Ed. ‘You should go home.’

  ‘I’ll stay.’

  After the orderly had moved off, Cara said, ‘Thanks, honey.’

  She took his hand in hers. Deliberately, carefully, he disentangled it. ‘Ed? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Because you had a bang to your head.’

  ‘But you sound like you’ve had one.’

  ‘I told you I wouldn’t go through this again. I’m only here because concussion can be serious. Soon as you’re okay, you’re on your own.’

  ‘But, Ed, I didn’t do it. The eating and throwing up.’

  ‘You would have if Nell and Ferdia hadn’t been there.’

  ‘Yes, but …’ Then, ‘Nell and Ferdia. Can you believe it?’

  Ed remained silent.

  Nell’s haul of belongings was so small that it took only one trip to unload the taxi outside Garr’s house. ‘Wow.’ She actually had to laugh. ‘Back where I was living the night I met Liam. Life is gas.’ She stashed Molly Ringwald in Garr’s bedroom, which had been a sitting room in a previous, more prosperous, household. ‘None of the current crop of housemates are allergic, are they?’

  ‘If they are, they’ll soon let us know. Anyway, don’t worry about it tonight.’

  ‘So, any spare blankets? Maybe a pillow?’

  ‘Sleeping on the floor? Don’t be mad. It’s a double bed.’

  It wouldn’t be the first time. A few years earlier, they’d made a tentative shift from friends to lovers. It lasted mere weeks before they admitted it had been a mistake. They’d been lucky to have successfully engineered a reversal.

  She messaged Ferdia: Staying with my friend, Garr. I’m okay. Hope you’re okay. Talk tomorrow x

  ‘You texting Liam?’ Garr sounded concerned.

 

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