Page 50 of These Tears

I don’t roll my eyes. I also keep my mouth firmly shut before something unwise escapes it. Because sure, Norway is forever buried under snow so thick it might as well be another planet.

‘I probably won’t take that one.’

‘Are you sure?’ Her tone changes as she studies the front more attentively. She rubs one of the flaps, then holds the whole thing against herself. ‘What do you think, Annabelle?’

My sister takes a step forward and snatches the damn thing, baring enough teeth to make the message clear.

‘Your youngest daughter is leaving forever!’ she points out.

I look up. ‘Ah, forever is a bit—’

The sentence falls apart in my mouth as she stalks out of that space and into the sitting room, draping the coat over the back of the three-seater right beside me.

Dad walks in with an electric screwdriver after swapping the wall fittings she’s been nagging him about for days. She lifts her chin, fixing Mum first, then him, with a long, unblinking stare that leaves no doubt she’d rather they were anywhere else.

Anna still hasn’t forgiven them for the lack of support during her marriage, in which her ex-husband painted her face in shades of blue. Even when the divorce was finalised, that went straight into their box of failures.

Any kind of deviation from the outdated society-induced norms is a disappointment to our parents. They know how to preserve appearances. Happiness and survival are never mentioned in the same sentence, because if they had known how to make room for both, they would have looked at everything and been proud of us.

I know I am. I am proud of Anna for breaking out of that cage. I am proud of myself for finally taking the leap I’d always wanted to take.

My sister had been in a spectacular mood, still glowing from her first date in years.

With Conall Byrne.

Then I broke the news about Norway, and then our parents descended on my sitting room. The glow didn’t stand a chance.

I fold another jumper into the suitcase, pressing it flat with both palms before reaching for the next.

In honesty, it warms my heart that things were looking up for her. I hadn’t seen her grin at her phone this much in years. Every time Conall’s name lit the screen, another line disappeared between her brows.

I lift my eyes to her where she’s piling books into my bag, keeping half an eye on the furniture in case one of the corners takes a hunk out of it.

I’m quite happy to have a house sitter, actually. Granted, one who likes to open every single folder in my bedroom, try on every single outfit – even if it clearly doesn’t fit her – and read every single letter that comes through the letterbox.

‘It’s such a shame to keep that coat in the wardrobe.’ My mother shakes her head, glancing at Anna, who gives her another rich eyeful.

I sigh.

The lack of boundaries, it seems, is a hereditary feature in this family.

And that thought promptly summons my last encounter with a certain blue-eyed monster.

I twirl when the screen startles into life behind me.

Though his tools are lying all over the place, the remote has already found its way into Dad’s hand – proof that he considers the job done.

‘Stephen, did you leave these for me?’ Mum grumbles from the kitchen where she starts shoving screws at random into the box.

‘Stop clattering, I’m trying to hear the news!’ he shouts right back at her.

‘I wouldn’t be clattering if your bloody mother had taught you how to clean up after yourself!’

A tart look passes between Anna and me.

‘And I wonder why my taste in men is absolute bollocks,’ she grumbles to no one at all.

I offer her a sympathetic smile, doing my utmost not to think about either Ron or Elias.