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“Prawn crackers,” Gerard confirmed with a grim nod. “Remember the last time we got the chips?”
“The salt and peppered ones?”
“No, those were fantastic. I’m talking about the soggy ones.”
“Ew, yeah.” I scrunched my nose up at the memory. “Good call, Gerard.” Turning back to my mother, I reeled off our food order, tapping on a bottle of fizzy orange at the end.
“When I asked what I was going to do with the two of you, I was referring to your antics in general,” Mam said with a sigh of amusement. “Not filling your bellies.”
“Fill our bellies,” I encouraged, reaching over to pat Gerard’s at the same time he reached out to pat mine.
“Yes, please do,” he agreed with a solemn nod. “We’re fading away here.”
“You two.” Mam laughed. “Alright. I’ll order the food. You two clean up those kittens and come downstairs and join the others.”
“Others?”
“Hugh and Katie are in the living room,” she explained. “I’ll call the Chinese and order a delivery for the four of you before I head into work for my shift. Your father is in the office upstairs if you need him. He’s on a deadline for work, and you know what that means, so please only go up if you absolutely have to.”
My father, a once-upon-a-time super-successful property developer, had thrown the towel in on his corporate job ten years ago. After his best friend died, Dad chose to give up the hustle and bustle, choosing instead to lock himself away in the attic writing murder mystery thrillers. It was cathartic for him and his way of dealing with the grief that had overtaken him after Joe died. The fact his books were wildly popular was an added bonus.
“We’ll be good,” we both chorused, giving each other a knowing look. Because once Mam left for work, Dad wouldn’t be coming downstairs to check on us. Free house.
“Hmm.” With another shake of her head, Mam walked out of the room. “Oh, and for future reference, keep the door open, Claire.”
“But what if Dick escapes and sneaks into Hugh’s room again?” I called after her.
“That’s not the dick I’m worried about escaping,” Mam muttered under her breath.
22
Team Clibsie for the Win
CLAIRE
Two hours later, the Chinese food had been demolished right along with half of the contents of Mam’s sideboard; the one in the front room she kept locked that contained the alcohol and tins of biscuits and sweets she was storing for Christmas.
Of course, Hugh and I happened to possess the “missing” spare key of said sideboard and had managed to inconspicuously outsmart Mam by taking just a little bit at a time for years. Taking enough to get tipsy and have a gorge on chocolate, but not enough to tip her off or smell a rat.
“How am I supposed to keep up when you keep changing the rules?” Gerard demanded, tossing his last card down on the coffee table and swiping up a fancy little glass filled with sherry. “Fuck the pair of you,” he grumbled, taking a sip of his drink, pinkie finger extended. “I know you’re cheating.”
“It’s Snap, Gibs.” Hugh chuckled, placing a card down on the pile. “You can’t cheat in Snap.”
“Snap!” Slamming her hand down on the huge pile, Katie squealed in excitement. “Again.”
“See?” Gerard’s eyes bulged as he pointed to the enormous stack of cards in front of Hugh and Katie. “Fucking cheaters.”
“Don’t hate the player, Gibs,” Katie snickered, leaning against my brother, who was sitting behind her on the armchair. “Hate the game.”
“Nope, Johnny and Shan definitely aren’t coming over,” I chimed in, reading from the text message I’d just received from Shannon. “Sorry guys. We’re having an early night. See you at the coffee shop tomorrow. X. X. X.” Exhaling a dreamy sigh, I tossed my phone down on my lap and retrieved my bowl of ice cream mixed with Baileys Irish Cream. “Aww.”
“I bet they’re doing something romantic,” Katie gushed.
“With candles,” I replied wistfully.
“And romantic music,” she agreed, taking a sip from Hugh’s beer bottle.
Gerard snorted. “I bet they’re fucking.”
