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They’d been prepared for Courtney to be arrested but she never was. No one’s legs were broken, Bruce’s business didn’t suffer any public trashing, no one was sued.
Courtney volunteered to get Sunny’s stuff for him from the house. Karoline threatened to ring the police if she turned up and Courtney told her she’d bring the police with her to ensure safe passage after Karoline had threatened, in front of hundreds of witnesses, to end their lives. Funnily enough, she’d backed down then. Also not surprisingly, Karoline didn’t give Courtney and Mort any trouble on the day, but then, she was a typical bully, picking on weaker souls and there was nothing weak about either of them.Courtney left her with a threat of her own: that if she ever came near any of them again, her head would end up in her bumhole.
Karoline hadn’t exactly folded Sunny’s clothes before she put them in bags, or packaged his iMac in bubble wrap, but it was all intact, not a cut-out crotch or a crushed keyboard to be found. Courtney, pursuing another change of career, did consider then being an enforcer for a debt collecting agency; she had rather relished the menace.
But another seed had taken root in her fertile brain. Something her mother had said about exploiting her love of and talent for social media. But she couldn’t do it alone. She needed a graphic artist to come on board, do all the ‘wanky drawing bits’ as she put it, while she pushed on the marketing side and dragged in business with her sparkling wit and expert people skills. Who better than her big brother? Karoline might have managed to convince him he was stupid for thinking he could make a career out of what was really a mere hobby, but Courtney managed to reconvince him that he was fucking fantastic, the best she knew and her idea was a big goer, they could do it together.
And here they were, Shay’s chicks back in the nest, though just for a little while, because the family home was under offer. Shay was giving some of the equity to her children. They were soon to move into a rented apartment in a converted mill which would be their home and work headquarters for their new infant joint venture. They’d probably end up killing each other along the way but she rather hoped their love for each other would prevail. They were already up and running, doing a few free creative bits for Colin in the hope that they’d convince him to jump from the useless JoMint and from what they’d showed himso far, it was looking promising. But what they lacked was a company name; they couldn’t agree on one and they needed to pin it down now that they were garnering interest.
‘What about Sunny Court?’ asked Courtney, as they brainstormed over lasagne.
Sunny shook his head. ‘Sounds like an old people’s home. What about Courting the Sun?’
‘Sounds like an incest dating site.’
‘Courtney.’ Shay tutted at her.
‘We could cash in on our Egyptian heritage,’ suggested Courtney, making a lasagne sandwich with two pieces of garlic bread, much to the disgust of her brother. ‘Cleopatra Concepts? Nile by Mouth Media? Hire-o-Graphics? What about something Pyramid?’
Courtney hadn’t been half as blown away with the story about the Egyptian officer who stole her granny’s heart as Shay had expected. ‘I love the grandad I’ve got,’ she’d said. ‘I mean, it’s all very romantic, but he means nothing to me.’ Although she was very grateful to him for her beautiful skin-tone and the brown eyes that brought her so many compliments. Sunny had never felt anything other than a Yorkshireman. He hadn’t even felt any leanings towards Italy, despite the throwback story, and by the same token he didn’t feel in the slightest bit Egyptian. It was his granny’s story, not his.
‘… Ptolemy, Nefer-tweety, Pair of Ankh-ers?’
‘Stop, enough.’ Sunny covered his ears and Shay thought how good it was to see him with a smile on his face. And to see some flesh covering his cheekbones. She still shuddered when she thought about what might have happened had she not stood up in church. Roberta had been with her, she knew that without any doubt, but it sounded nuts so she’d kept that particular nugget to herself.
‘I like the idea of having a one-word impact,’ said Sunny then. ‘Like: Ice, Fire, Gold, Fruit, Cream…’
‘Turd, Balls,’ snorted Courtney.
‘Ugh. Anything but that name.’ Shay made a face. Drew Balls had put his house up for sale in the end and Derrick’s son, who had just moved in to Roberta’s old bungalow, had bought that as well. When Shay had last been to visit Dagmara, she’d told her some gossip that apparently Errol had ‘made Drew Balls an offer he couldn’t refuse’ and she’d giggled like a schoolgirl.
‘You are totally gross, Court,’ said Sunny, watching as the sauce and mince escaped the bread and slopped down her top. ‘Who makes a sandwich out of lasagne?’
Lightbulb.
‘What about Sandwich?’ Shay suggested. ‘A perfect marriage between components. Everyone loves a sandwich.’
‘Not that sort of sandwich they don’t,’ said Sunny, flicking his finger over at his sister’s gastronomic disaster.
But Courtney wasn’t listening, she was caught up in her own thoughts, rolling the word around in her mouth, letting her brain taste it, savour it.
‘Sandwich. I really like it,’ said Shay. ‘It’s out there and—’
‘Please, Mum, don’t do that thing middle-aged people do like saying “down with da kids”, slam dunk, WTF, bantz, peng…’
‘Mum, I think you might have nailed it,’ said Sunny, nodding.
Courtney was beaming. ‘Sandwich, yep, I’m already seeing the graphics, hearing the taglines about us complementing clients, showing them off to their best, holding it together between us, ideal combos…’
‘High five,’ said Shay and flashed the two palms of her hands.
Her children sighed but pressed their palms to hers because it would have been rude to leave her hanging, but more so because they loved her very much.
Chapter 46
The week after Sandwich was officially born, a call came through from the Whispering Pines care home to say that Harry’s breathing had changed and these were very likely to be his last hours. Shay, Courtney and Sunny drove quickly over there. Barbara was sitting by his side, holding his hand, strangely calm though tears were rolling down her cheeks and the darkened patch of the bedsheet below indicated they had been dropping for some time.
Harry Corrigan passed away peacefully in his sleep within the half-hour, surrounded by those he had loved the most and who, in turn, couldn’t have loved him more: his family.
