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Trembling, I pressed the ACCEPT button and put the phone to my ear. “Uh, hello?”
“Well, shit, I wasn’t expecting anyone to pick up,” the voice at the other end replied. “You have my buddy’s phone.”
“Yeah, I know.” Closing my eyes, I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead and exhaled heavily. “He left it in my brother’s car last night.”
“Last night’s a bit hazy,” Gibsie drawled down the line. “So, you might need to refresh my memory by letting me know who your brother is?”
“Joey Lynch?” I squeezed out, trying not to hyperventilate in front of my brother. “He and his girlfriend, Aoife, dropped you guys home from town last night. The phone was under his seat.” Squirming uncomfortably, I threw in a quick disclaimer by saying, “I just found it like two minutes ago.”
“Nope,” Gibsie replied after a long pause. “I have no recollection of that happening.”
“Well, it clearly did,” I shot back, flustered. “Considering your friend’s phone is in my brother’s car.”
“Little Shannon?” Gibsie sounded amused. “Is that you?”
“Uh, yeah.” I flamed red. “It’s me.”
“Is your brother with you now?” he asked.
“Yeah, but he’s driving, so he won’t use the phone.”
“Does he remember where he dropped us last night?”
“Hold on, I’ll ask—” Pausing, I covered the handset and looked to Joey. “They want to know if you remember where the house is.”
Joey nodded and I returned to the call.
“Yeah, he remembers.”
“Can you put me on loudspeaker?”
“I’ll try.” Clicking a few buttons, I held the phone up to Joey’s ear. “Okay, you’re on loudspeaker now.”
“Hey, man, how’s it going?” Gibsie’s voice came out much louder now, though he was noticeably hoarse.
“Better than you by the sound of it,” my brother quipped. “What do you need?”
“Could you drop Kav’s phone over?” he asked. “I’m sorry to put you out, man, but he’s losing his shit here. He’s weird as fuck when it comes to his personal information.”
“What’s in it for me?” Joey shot back, not missing a beat.
“Joey,” I whisper-hissed.
He shot a cheeky smirk back at me.
“Shit, man, I don’t know,” Gibsie mumbled. “A rasher sandwich and a pot of tea? I don’t have much in the lines of barter.”
Horrified, I shook my head and mouthed no, but Joey said, “Yeah, grand. We’ll be over in thirty.”
“Joey!” I cried.
“Thanks a million,” Gibsie replied, sounding relieved. “You’re as sound as a pound.”
“No bother,” Joey replied, taking the phone out of my hand. “And I like my rashers crispy,” he added before cutting the call and dropping the phone down on the seat beside him. “Detour.”
“What are you doing?” I spluttered, wide-eyed. “We are not going over there!”
“What’s the problem?” he quizzed. “I thought you were friends.”
