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For him to go all Darth Vader on Aoife was just beyond the realms of probability, but she needed closure and I wanted to give her everything she needed.
“Just give me two minutes, yeah?” I asked her, and she nodded, letting her hand slide down to her lap once more. “When was the accident, honey? Where?”
She told me the details and I picked up my phone, I scrolled through to my PA, Paul’s number. I sent the text with the information and waited on his reply.
Paul:On it.
Me:Need it ASAP.
Paul:Will call our rat at the department now.
Me:Thanks.
Fully expecting to have the report in the morning, I switched my phone to ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode.
My wife needed me, and I, God help me, needed her.
***
Aoife
It had beena shitty day after a row of shitty days, but it was wonderful to be home again, even better to be with Finn, and an absolute joy to be in my own kitchen.
While a great cook, Lena’s meals seemed to consist of no other fare than Irish.
For three months, I’d eaten nothing but potato and lamb in a thousand different variations, and sweet Jesus, I was ready for something spicy. I might even have settled for dipping my finger into the wasabi paste in the fridge—that was how desperate I was for something that wasn’t bland but hearty.
And for our first meal back at home? Reunited at last? Curry. Yum.
“Are you sure you’re up to cooking?” Finn asked as he watched me from his spot at the counter.
I shrugged. “We’re about to find out.”
He grunted. “Let’s not leave it until you’re so tired, you’re about to fall down.”
That had me smirking down at the onion I was chopping. “It’s only a quick curry. Fear not.”
Another grunt was the only answer I got, but I felt his eyes on me, tracking my color, my state of being. It was like being X-rayed, except Finn’s glance wasn’t radioactive, just hot enough to make me melt.
Chopped onion, some garlic and ginger paste, a few other veggies then some spices I’d brought from my apartment when I’d moved in, alongside some garbanzo beans and natural yoghurt, and dinner was ready pretty quickly after the basmati rice was cooked.
Finn eyed it. “What is it?”
“It’s a chana masala.”
“A chana masala? Where’s the beef?” He screwed up his nose.
I smirked at him. “You don’t have to eat meat every day.”
“I don’t.”
“I’m not talking about fish on a Friday, Finn.”
He smirked back at me, appreciating my sass. “I thought garbanzo beans were for vegans.”
“They’re a good source of protein, but they’re not exclusively in the vegetarian section at the store,” I told him, rolling my eyes at him. “Jesus. You man, eat meat, huh? Neanderthal.”
“Well, meat’s good.”
