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Her husband snorted as if it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Take one look at her, Marie.” His dark eyes roamed over me in such a way that I felt uncomfortable. “She’s not here for the girl.”
“Then who…” the mother’s voice trailed off for a brief moment before she nodded her understanding. “Oh, you’re here for—”
“Me,” an achingly familiar voice said. “She’s here for me.”
“Joey,” I breathed, locking eyes on my furious looking classmate as he stood in the sitting room doorway.
“What are you doing here, Molloy?” His tone was hard, his eyes blazing with barely contained frustration, as blood trickled from a cut above his eyebrow. “In my house?”
“You forgot your bag at school.” I held it up as by way of explanation, gaze honing in on his disheveled hair and the collar of his t-shirt that had been stretched out of shape. “I figured you might need it back.”
“You might as well toss that fucking thing away,” his father sneered, and the stench of whiskey wafting from the man was as obvious as the smell of cakes in a bakery. “Fat lot of use he gets out of it.”
“That was very kind of you,” his mother was quick to interject, taking the bag from me with her good hand. “Wasn’t that kind of her, Teddy?”
Uninterested, her husband grunted some semblance of a reply before snatching the remote out of Tadhg’s hand. “Up out of my chair, ya little shit,” he commanded, snapping his finger. “And bring me in my smokes.”
I watched as the older child scowled up at his father in such a way that he reminded me of his older brother, but then quickly clambered out of the armchair.
“Come on, Ols,” he grumbled, padding out of the room. “You can help me find an ashtray.”
“It was nice to see you,” Ollie chirped up at me, all brown eyes and innocence, before he climbed off the couch and hurried after his brother.
Yeah,” I squeezed out, heart fluttering around nervously, as I watched the little guy hurry out of the room. “You, too.”
Shannon, who looked like she had turned to stone on the mortal spot, blinked wildly before rushing from the room, mumbling something about Sean needing a drink as she went.
“Can I make you a cup of tea?” their mother offered, pulling on the sleeve of her cardigan, looking almost as uncertain as her daughter.Almost as frightened.“Or would you prefer coffee?”
“No, she’s not staying,” Joey answered instead, as he inclined his head towards the front door, never taking his eyes off me. “A word.”
“I, ah, better…” my voice trailed off as I watched the front door swing open and Joey stalk outside. “Go,” I finished, offering his mother a small smile before stepping around her and moving for the door.
“Thank you for bringing his bag home,” she called after me. “It really was very good of you.”
“No problem.” Offering her a hasty wave, I followed her son out of the house. “Bye.”
The minute I had stepped outside and closed the front door behind me, Joey was on me.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he demanded in a hushed tone, clearly livid, as he paced around like a mad man. "Coming to my home like this?" His green eyes blazed with a mask of anger, but I could see the absolute panic underneath, as his attention kept slipping to the front door behind me. “What were youthinkingshowing up here?”
“I was thinking that you forgot your bag and might need it,” I tossed back before reaching a hand up to touch his face. “Did he do that to your eye?“
"Stay out of it," he bit out, snatching my hand up before I could touch him. “I mean it, Molloy.” Once again masking his fear with his temper, he met my eyes with a look of pure fury and pushed my hand away. "Stay out of my face and stay out of my fucking life!"
“Listen to me.” Closing the space he’d put between us, I reached for his hand, willing him to open up to me. “I know, okay? I get what’s happening here. Your dad’s a drunk, right?” With my thumb, I gestured behind me. “Gets a little handsy after a few too many glasses of Jameson?” I reached out to touch his shoulder. “Your back? Those scars—”
“You need to leave, Molloy,” Joey seethed, chest heaving, as he quickly stepped out of my reach again. “Now. I’m not fucking around here.” His gaze flicked to the house again and I could see the anxiety in his eyes. “You need to go,” he snarled, stalking down the driveway. “You need to go now, Molloy,” he added when he reached the garden wall. “Just fucking go.Please.”
"I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me," I argued, not giving him an inch, as I stalked towards him and reclaimed the space that he had put between us.
The rain was pouring down on both of us, but I wasn’t walking away.
Not now that I knew.
Not ever again.
I had a decent life, and a relatively stable home life. Sure, my father had a roaming eye, which mean that my parents’ relationship was off more times than it was on, but neither he nor Mam were abusive to each other or to myself and Kev.
