‘And what about your family, Alex?’ Beth asked, determined not to get lost in her own secret self-pity. ‘Everyone alright? God, remember when your baby sister came to visit? What a laugh.’
Fiona was two years younger than Alex and completely unplanned. Apparently, her mother, Siobhan, had been horrified to discover she’d fallen pregnant so soon after Alex while still being equally horrified that she’d even had one child to begin with. Siobhan Moran never hid the fact that she found children to be more of a hindrance than a blessing and, in time, her children felt the very same way about her.
Where Alex clearly inherited her genes from her father’s Greek side of the family, Fi looked like her mother, petite with dark blonde hair and blue eyes. She was also more driven academically, more outgoing and votedmost likely to get a tattoo on her arse while holidaying in Ibizaby her classmates. Alex tried to talk her out of it and failed.
‘I do remember.’ Alex winced. ‘Three tequilas and that girl was unhinged. Fiona’s doing alright though, she’s a GP. Lives in Galway. Has two mad dogs and a blind fish.’
‘And your mum?’ Beth continued. ‘She was a singer, right? I remember seeing her YouTube videos.’
‘She was,’ Alex confirmed. ‘Never a famous one but she did reasonably well around the pubs and clubs.’
Siobhan Angelos. Even after the divorce, she had kept her husband’s last name, as it sounded far more exotic than Siobhan Moran, especially while promoting her work.
If Tina Turner gets to keep her name, so can I.
Alex cringed at the memory of her mother’s voice. That women frightened the life out of her and her sister. A voice that sang beautifully yet constantly boomed at two young children because their father George had decided that he’d rather live with a woman named Nina O’Driscoll in Crete than spend one more minute married to her. She immediately changed her children’s names to her maiden name, just to spite him. Not that he knew or cared. They never heard from him again.
‘And is she still performing?’
Alex shook her head. ‘She had aggressive cervical cancer. She died five years ago.’
She heard everyone around the table gasp in pity.
‘It’s alright,’ she reassured everyone. ‘We really were not that close. Shit, I’ve just bummed everyone out, haven’t I?’
‘A little,’ Tara replied, smirking. ‘But we’ll forgive you.’ She passed Aiden the garlic bread.
‘How did you two meet?’ Beth asked. Tara locked eyes with Aiden and giggled.
‘Funny story actually. My neighbour Lisa’s dog was hit by a car—’
‘How is that funny?’
‘No, Becks, I wasn’t implying that was the funny part, just hang on. So, Lisa’s going mental and the dog’s howling and she doesn’t drive – Lisa, not the dog – so I loaded them both up in my Ford Escort to take them to the twenty-four-hour vet in Wanstead. Aiden was the vet on call. Trouble was, with Lisa in the throes of despair, I was left to carry the dog, who pissed all over me. Aiden kindly lent me his T-shirt.’
‘Was the wee doggie OK?’
‘The dog was fine,’ Aiden reassured Becky. ‘Fractured leg, she was lucky.’
‘And I returned his T-shirt a couple of days later… now here we are.’ Tara raised her glass to Aiden and Alex felt her stomach twist a little.Of course he’d give Tara his T-shirt.I mean look at her. She’s bloody gorgeous, even covered in dog piss.
‘And, Becky,’ Tara continued, ‘now you know that the dog survived, care to tell us how you and Christine met?’
‘Wellness retreat,’ Becky responded. ‘We were both working there and—’
‘God, it was awful, wasn’t it?’ Christine interjected. ‘Like a giant Live Laugh Love convention. Rebecca was about the only other person in the entire building who didn’t think that bloody chakras and reiki were the key to good mental health and wellbeing.’
Alex glanced at Becky who pursed her lips.
‘Becky?’ Tara said with a grin. ‘Seriously? Woo-woo Becky? Becky-who-gets-overly-excited-at-a-full-moon, Becky? I thought she’d have been reading auras and starting a coven!’
‘Sorry?’ Christine looked confused while Becky glared at Tara, shaking her head as surreptitiously as possible. Her eyes pleaded for Tara to pack it in.
‘Nothing,’ Tara replied. ‘I’m just messing. Because she hates all that stuff. Old joke between old friends, right,Rebecca?’
Becky laughed and nodded, knowing she’d have to explain herself later.
‘What about you, Alex?’ Paul asked. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’
