Will fixed him with a cold stare. ‘Never,’ he said, raising his eyebrows challengingly at Brian, daring him to have a problem with it.
‘That must be difficult for you,’ Brian said.
‘It’s very easy, actually.’
In fact, it had been anything but easy, but he had succeeded through sheer steely determination to make his father suffer. In Will’s teenage fantasies, the full impact of what he had done would hit Philip one day and render him catatonic, impotent, unable to work, eat, sleep or love. He had stopped believing such a devastating road to Damascus possible, but he still persisted in punishing his father. It was the only real bone of contention between him and the blood-is-thicker-than-water O’Neills. It was the one thing about him that they all disapproved of – Lorcan, his best friend in the world, sweet, soft-hearted Kate, even Jack, the gentlest, most forgiving man on earth. And he knew Grace disapproved because she invariably addressed him as ‘William’ when she was talking about his father.
‘I spoke to Philip today, William,’ she would inform him, in a tone of reproof. When Will showed no interest, she would proceed to relay the entire conversation to him, while Will remained stubbornly aloof.
But deep down Will feared it wasn’t in his power to make his father suffer by withdrawing his love. After all, what was his love worth? It hadn’t been enough to make his father stay. It hadn’t been enough to make his mother want to go on living.
‘There’s a guy not far from here who does wonderful work on healing the past,’ Brian was saying. ‘He’s doing a workshop tomorrow that sounds really interesting, based on dealing with fear.’
As far as Will was concerned, Brian was speaking in a foreign language.
‘He uses a mixture of experiential role play and dynamic body-work,’ Brian continued, oblivious.
‘Sounds like a nightmare,’ Will said and, out of the corner of his eye, saw Kate giggle.
When last orders were called, Rachel and Tom joined them.They were finishing their drinks and preparing to go when Josie came thundering towards them from the depths of the bar. ‘There’s going to be a lock-in,’ she announced, eyes dancing. ‘Are you going to stay?’
‘God, no. I can’t keep my eyes open another minute.’ Rachel yawned. ‘Must be all this fresh air.’
One by one, everyone declined, saying they were knackered.
She grabbed Kate’s hands. ‘Kate, you’ll stay, won’t you?’
‘Well, I am pretty tired,’ Kate began.
‘Please!’ Josie begged. ‘I’m chatting up a guy at the bar and I’d like to stay, but not on my own.’
‘Which one is he?’ Kate peered towards the bar.
‘Him,’ Josie nodded at an astonishingly tall black guy, who stood head and shoulders above everyone else in the bar and looked rather lost. ‘He’s called Michael – it’s not his real name, but it’s what he goes by over here. He’s from Nigeria and he’s fierce lonely.’
‘Well…’ Kate longed for her bed, but she didn’t have it in her heart to refuse Josie. Besides, ‘Michael’ seemed in need of company, and she’d feel guilty if she deprived him of Josie’s.
‘Go on,’ Josie pleaded. ‘He’s a refugee, and they’ve stuck him here in the arsehole of nowhere, poor aul’ sausage. You’ve just been to Africa – you could have a chat with him about it.’
‘I suppose I could stay for a while.’
‘Good girl, yourself!’ Josie clapped her heartily on the back. ‘You’ll stay, too, then, won’t you, Brian?’
‘Sorry, Josie.’ Brian shook his head. ‘I need my eight hours.’
Chivalrous, too,Will thought, disgusted. Kate was only staying because she was too kind-hearted to let Josie down, and the bastard wasn’t even willing to keep her company.
‘I’ll stay too, if you like, Kate,’ he offered.
‘Oh no, I’ll be fine. Josie’ll look after me, won’t you? Besides,there’s only so much listening to people talking shite that a sober man can take.’
‘I’m perfectly happy. I could listen to you talk shite all night.’
‘Really, there’s no need.’
‘If you’re sure?’
‘Yes, go.’
