Annie heaved a sigh. ‘Yeah. That’ll be nice.’
There was a tap at the door as Annie put the phone down. Layla opened the door, poked her head around it.
‘I’m going out,’ she said.
But you only just got in formed itself in Annie’s brain. She bit back the words. Forced a smile.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘Dinner’s at eight… you need some money?’
‘Yeah.’
Yeah, of course you do, thought Annie. That’s all I am to you, the Bank of Mum. She opened the top drawer of the desk, pulled out a bundle of fivers, then stood up and went over to the door.
‘Thanks,’ said Layla, pocketing the cash.
‘See you at eight,’ said Annie, thinking, Other daughters kiss their mothers goodbye. Other daughters hug their mums and buy them little gifts and go shopping with them. Not mine.
Layla withdrew, closing the door.
Annie tried to console herself, but Layla’s return and the realization that things hadn’t changed, the fear that they would never change, made her feel depressed. It was a new year, another fucking year, and the same old scenario.
She told herself firmly that it was fine, they would meet up later; Rosa had cooked something special and they would have a chance to chat then. But Annie could feel desperation taking hold. Three years on from the divorce, and still she was getting the cold shoulder. She had, somehow, to reconnect with Layla, and starting tonight, she promised herself she was going to try harder.
But she never got the chance.
Layla didn’t come home until gone ten, so Annie had to eat dinner alone.
Ireland, 1973
Months had passed and Megan’s baby was due to drop. Rather than settling her, the imminent arrival of their first child was making her more edgy.
‘It’s the feckin’ hormones,’ said Rory, sitting on the side of Rufus’s bed upstairs. He grinned. ‘She’s a head case. Can’t think of anything but babies, nursery curtains and nappies.’
‘Not bad things to be thinking about,’ said Rufus with a sigh. He’d never had a serious woman in his life. He’d had a boyhood crush on his cousin Orla, ferocious in its intensity. He could still remember the way he’d felt about her. But they’d lost touch over the years.
He was feeling better now, almost recovered. A little weak, his left arm stiff, but he was well enough to get up during the day, retiring early to bed. Since Megan had marked his card, he’d been careful not to step outside in the garden, high fences or no.
He was lying low. He knew his presence made Megan nervous. And Rory too, if he was honest. If Big Don discovered him here, they would all suffer. He thought of Pikey, the poor little fool, dying in that horrible way before he’d gotten the chance to grow older and wiser. It tormented him.