Page 42 of Lyrebird

‘Go ahead, look through my personal stuff, why don’t you.’

‘Where’s cow?’

‘Bo is in Dublin. She was lecturing for film students at the university this afternoon. She couldn’t get here on time.’

Donal sucks in air, but sarcastically. ‘Bet she couldn’t get out of that.’

‘I told her not to even try. It’s a big deal.’

‘Sounds like it is.’ Donal studies him.

Unhappy with his brother’s gaze, he drops his towel from around his waist and holds his hands up in the air. ‘Look no hands!’

‘That’s mature.’

‘Yeah, well,’ Solomon roots in his bag for a clean T-shirt. ‘It’s easier for me that she’s not here,’ he says, back turned, while he hears the click of Donal’s phone. ‘You lads make it hard for me.’

‘We don’t.’ He angles the phone on Solomon’s arse and takes another photo. ‘We’re looking out for you.’

‘By calling her cow.’

He genuinely laughs at that. ‘You said speak English to her.’

Bó is the Irish for cow, something Solomon’s Irish-speaking family delight in calling her.

‘You never give her a break.’

‘It’s only banter.’

‘She doesn’t have the same sense of humour.’

‘Wrong. She doesn’t have a sense of humour. And she barely sees us, so she doesn’t have to put up with us often.’

‘Please stop taking photos of my balls.’

‘But they’re so pretty. I’m going to send them to Mam. She can decorate a new room, call it the bollox room.’

Ashamed to find that childish joke funny, Solomon laughs.

‘So, do you go to Bo’s folks’ place, parties, brunches, soirees and the like?’ he asks putting on a posh Dublin accent.

‘Sometimes. Not very often. Once. Me and Bo are better on our own. Away from our families.’

‘Away from each other.’

‘Come on.’

‘Fine. Last question. Are you going to get married?’

‘Are we going to get married?’ He sighs. ‘You sound like an old woman. Why the fuck do you care if I get married?’

‘Man, I think your dick shrunk when I asked that. Look –’ He holds the camera up to show him. ‘Before I asked the question.’ He slides the image. ‘After.’

Solomon chuckles. ‘It’s a fine thing, you asking me all these questions. Single man of forty-two. You should have been a priest.’

‘Might have got more action,’ Donal says and Solomon rolls his nose up in disgust.

Donal chuckles at his own joke.