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“Yeah,” he snorted. “That’s what I’m going to do.”
“I said stop the car, Gerard Gibson!”
“You really want me to stop the car?” he demanded in a sarcastic tone. “On the side of the main road in the pissing rain?”
No. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
Releasing a frustrated growl, he threw on the indicator and pulled off to the side of the road. “Fine.” He jacked the hand break and turned to glare at me. “As you wish.”
48
Weather for the Ducks
GIBSIE
“Claire, come on, will you?” At a snail’s pace, I continued to drive along beside her with my hazard lights on and the car window rolled down. “Just get in the car, please.” Ignoring the honking horns from the countless pissed-off road users tailing me, I concentrated on the furious blond stomping down the side of the road instead. “You’re going to get washed away.” That was a very real concern of mine. It was raining so hard that even with my windscreen wipers switched to full speed, I was having a hard time seeing the road ahead of me. “You’re not even wearing a coat, you wally!”
“Don’t call me a wally, you big tool,” she called back, upping her pace only to step in a huge puddle and splash herself in brown mud. “Ugh. Perfect! Just perfect!”
Jesus, what a mess, and I wasn’t talking about her clothes.
“Claire,” I coaxed, trying another approach as I leaned an arm out the window and tried to reason with her. “I’m sorry, okay? Just get in the car and you can kill me while you dry off in the warm!”
“Why?” she demanded, stopping dead in her tracks. She folded her arms across her chest and glared. “Why are you sorry, Gerard?”
“Why?” I shook my head in confusion. “Because I pissed you off enough that you climbed out of the car on the main road?”
“Ugh!” She stamped her foot in frustration and continued walking. “Tool!”
“Well, didn’t I?” I called out, rolling along beside her once more. “I mean, you’re obviously mad at me if you’re willing to walk the full three miles to Cap’s house.”
“I’m not mad, Gerard,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m furious!”
Spying the entrance to Ballylaggin Woods up ahead, I switched on my indicator and drove fifty yards or so up ahead and pulled into the gap.
Killing the engine, I threw the door open and climbed out. “Are you happy?” I snapped, throwing my hands up as I walked back to her. “Because we’re both getting soaked now.”
“Oh my god, just go away!” Claire shouted. “I don’t want to see you right now.”
“Well, that’s too fucking bad because I’m not leaving you on the side of the road, sweetheart!” I snapped back, pushing my already drenched hair out of my eyes. “Anyone could take you!”
“Take me?” She threw her head back and laughed humorlessly. “Like who? Old Dinny Byrne from Glenroe on his tractor?” She rolled her eyes. “Get real, Gerard.”
“I am being real,” I shouted back. “You’re the one acting like a lunatic here. And don’t take the piss out of Glenroe when we both loved that show,” I accused. “So, why don’t you do us both a favor and climb in the car before we both get double goddamn pneumonia!”
“No.”
“No?” I gaped at her. “Why the hell not?”
“Because you suck, Gerard Gibson!”
“I suck because I want to keep you safe?” I flailed my arms around in exasperation. “Oh yeah, I’m a right horrible bastard.”
“You know what?” Narrowing her eyes, Claire stalked over to the gate I was parked in front of and climbed over it. “Go screw yourself, Gerard.”
“Oh, so you’re just going to take a gander through the woods now, are you?” I demanded, stalking after her. “Is that your genius plan, Claire-Bear?” I demanded, jumping the gate with ease. “Because it’s a really shitty one.”
“I don’t care!” she screamed back, doubling her efforts to outwalk me. “Now stop following me!”
