‘You don’t want to go back home?’
‘One more.’ Janet drained her glass.
‘Sure?’ Rachel stood up.
Janet nodded. Gestured to Rachel’s phone. ‘Can I? Mine’s charging.’
‘Course.’
She bent her head and began to read, gritting her teeth together, determined not to cry.
Dave’s mother answered the phone to Gill and went to fetch Dave without bothering to make any small talk.
The night before Gill had spoken to Sammy about his dad, tried to tread a careful line, not wanting to slag Dave off but needing to explain to Sammy that his father’s drinking was out of control.
‘How did he seem these last few visits?’ she said.
He shrugged. ‘Dunno. Why?’
‘He’s drinking more than he should be. Drinking in the day too. If you find him like that – well… He needs some help.’
‘What, like rehab?’
‘Yes,’ Gill said.
Sammy nodded.
‘You’re not surprised?’
He wrinkled his nose. A look in his eyes. Guilt? ‘What?’ she said.
‘Last time, he was off his face,’ Sammy said. ‘I went round and he was crying and apologizing and talking about how he’d messed everything up. So I left and went round to Orla’s instead. Dad didn’t rearrange on Thursday, I just didn’t go. I couldn’t face it.’
‘Oh, Sammy, why didn’t you say?’
‘I don’t know.’ He gave a sigh. ‘It creeped me out.’
‘Look, you don’t have to put up with that, nobody does.’ She could imagine how distressing Sammy would’ve found it. His father sobbing and sentimental, full of self-pity and theatrics.
‘I’ll tell him you won’t be seeing him again until he’s straightened himself out if that’s what you want?’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Are you OK?’
Oh, you lovely, lovely boy. ‘Course I am,’ she said. She could see the man he was becoming, not just his father’s son or hers but his own person. See how the disaffection of the last couple of years was being replaced by engagement now he’d found something he wanted to do. Happy with Orla too. She was so proud of him. And she would not let Dave undermine all this. If it meant keeping them apart then so be it.
‘Dave, I’m coming round, OK?’
‘Sure, yeah.’
She couldn’t tell if he was sober or not. ‘About half an hour. See you then.’
‘We could go out,’ the first thing he said when he answered the door.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ Gill said, stepping inside.
They went into the living room. There was no sign of Dave’s mother, which was a relief; the conversation Gill intended to have was best conducted in private.
‘You want a drink?’
Seriously? ‘No,’ she said, sitting in an armchair. He sat in the other one. His eyes were slightly bloodshot but he had shaved, and she could smell aftershave. Sprucing himself up for her?