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‘You, young lady, need lunch,’ Charlotte tells Molly. ‘They have a nice tomato soup downstairs. We should go get some.’
Molly shakes her head. ‘I hate soup.’
Dad lifts Molly into his arms and she wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.
‘I like McDonald’s and hot chocolate,’ Molly says. ‘It’s not fair.’
‘C’mon, munchkin.’ Dad smiles, patiently. ‘You know Mammy doesn’t like you eating that junk.’
Charlotte passes me the hot chocolate without words and winks. She turns her back and walks towards the door.
‘Right,’ she says, opening the door. ‘Let’s get you some soup, Molly.’
‘Charlotte,’ I call. ‘Can you stay? Just for a little while.’
Charlotte turns around and looks at me with wide, unsure eyes.
‘It’s just, I haven’t really seen you in ages. It would be nice to catch up.’
Charlotte smiles and I can see she’s searching for the right thing to say.
‘I’m sure Dad can get Molly her soup, can’t you, Dad?’
Dad nods.
‘So,’ I say. ‘Can you stay?’
Charlotte looks at Mam and neither of them even blink. Jesus, this is worse than any beef I have with Roisin Kelly.
‘Actually, Mam. Maybe you could go downstairs with Dad,’ I say. ‘I know you haven’t had a chance to eat anything today. And no, offence, but you look awful.’
Mam snorts and forces a laugh. ‘Ha, thank you, Kayla.’
‘You know what I mean,’ I smile. ‘Seriously, though, go get a coffee at least. I’ll still be alive when you come back.’
‘Kayla.’ Mam shakes her head, and I wish I’d phrased that differently.
I point to the door jokingly. ‘Go. Go on.’
Mam looks at Charlotte. ‘Well, if you don’t mind?’
‘Of course not,’ Charlotte says. ‘I’ll stay with her.’
‘Okay. Thank you. I won’t be long.’
‘Can we go to McDonald’s, Heather?’ Molly says, leaning out of Dad’s arms to reach for Mam.
Dad puts Molly down and Mam takes her hand.
‘You know what, Molly?’ Mam says. ‘That’s a great idea.’
TWENTY-FOUR
CHARLOTTE
I sit in the plastic seat next to Kayla’s bed as she sips on her hot chocolate. There’s a slurping sound every few seconds and Kayla giggles with her big blue eyes peering out over the top of her cup.
Kayla isn’t as pale as I was expecting, or as frail. In fact, if it wasn’t for the cannula in her hand I could easily believe she’s just tucked up in bed enjoying a lazy Friday afternoon.
