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I shake my head and start backing away. ‘No, my mind’s made. Thank you, Sir, for everything.’

‘Wait, Ella.’

Holding the door open I turn around and find he is only a few feet away from me. ‘At least finish the bloody week,’ he says angrily. ‘You’re going to leave everybody in the shit leaving like this.’

I’ll be glad to see the back of him. I shake my head, and say resolutely, ‘Goodbye, Sir.’ Then I close the door, happy that I have made the right decision.

Three weeks later …

SIXTEEN

My mother always has her children driving over to her other childrens’ houses delivering homemade food. I’m sure she does it because she thinks it will mean we see more of each other. Maybe she’s right. I suppose I would see less of them without these errands she makes us all run for her. This week I have a box of Shane’s favorite—lemon cupcakes—sitting on the passenger seat of my car.

I turn off the engine, grab the cakes, and, locking the door, cross the courtyard toward his apartment. My brother is a funny guy. It’s easy to misunderstand him and think he’s a pushover or a shallow playboy, but that’s just a façade he employs since it’s so convenient and effective. The opposite is true.

He’s actually very deep. Deeper than me, anyway. Me, I’m a simple guy. Neanderthal simple. Especially when it comes to women. My woman is my woman and mine alone. Shane’s more complicated. He doesn’t go out there all guns blazing to keep his woman.

Like that time with Lily. It was Shane who was first interested in her, but he took her to a party at Jake’s house, and Jake and Lily immediately hooked up. I know that Jake and Lily are mad about each other and all that, but the ease with which Shane allowed Jake to take his woman shocked me. I mean, I don’t know what I would have done. I love my brother, but I might have had to punch him real hard. I know I definitely wouldn’t have behaved like it was nothing, like I was some sort of wuss.

It bothered me so much that I asked Shane how he could be so cool about something like that. He shrugged and said, ‘I can get a woman any time. Sometimes I open my kitchen drawer and one pops out. But I can never replace Jake. I’d give my life for him. He’s family.’

And suddenly I remembered being fourteen again. My father had just been killed, and Jake had taken his place, so he was never in the house. It seemed to me then that my whole family was falling apart, and for some weird reason I became furious with my mother, as it was her fault that my father had stolen money from a gangster and had his throat cut.

Rebelliously, I began to act out. I cut school and would never come home until late, and when I did come home I wouldn’t speak to anyone. I was rude and sullen. I stole alcohol from the supermarket and got drunk. And when I was drunk, all I wanted to do was fight. I fought with everybody in those days.

Shane had just turned ten, then. One night I came home late, nearly midnight. Layla was asleep, Jake was out, of course, and only my mother and Shane were home. I walked into the house and heard a strange crooning sound coming from the living room. So I stopped and tiptoed to the door, and what I saw changed me forever.

My mother’s head was in my brother’s lap. She was weeping quietly, and he was gently stroking her cheek and kind of singing to her in a strange, reedy voice.

‘Don’t you worry, Ma. Don’t you worry. Everything will work out perfectly. Jake and I’ll take care of you. Dom will come around. He always does. Don’t you worry, Ma. Don’t you worry.’

I didn’t show myself. I walked backwards out of the door. I went to an illegal, open-all-night pub and got totally smashed. I felt so ashamed. Shane had taken on the role that I should have. Jake was doing his bit, and I was slacking. No one had asked me to change my ways. Everybody was just waiting for me to come to my senses.

I wok

e up the next morning with an almighty hangover, and totally changed. I pulled my weight, and I’ve never forgotten the strength of character that Shane showed at the tender age of ten. I know it’s all still there. He’s playing the part of the devil-may-care playboy, but one day the real Shane will come through and reveal himself.

I open the entrance door to the block of apartments. It’s a Sunday night—the night porter is nowhere to be seen, and the reception area’s deserted. I get into the lift and hit the button for Shane’s floor. The doors open, I get out of the lift, walk down the short corridor, and knock on his door. He opens it in a stained T-shirt and ripped jeans.

‘You OK?’ he says.

‘Yeah, good,’ I reply and hold out the box of cakes.

‘Thanks.’ He takes the box, immediately opens it, and, selecting a cupcake, bites into it. ‘Delicious,’ he says, and holds the open box out to me.

‘Nah,’ I decline, and he shrugs and leads the way to his living room.

We get into the room, and to my surprise my niece and nephew are playing there. They squeal with delight when they see me.

‘Where are their parents?’ I ask.

‘Mummy and Daddy and Uncle BJ and Aunty Layla have all gone to dinner,’ Liliana announces importantly.

I look at Shane curiously. ‘Are they here on their own with you?’

‘What’re you looking so surprised for?’

I cross my arms. ‘They trust you to take care of their kids?’

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