I felt like I was standing waist deep in the debris from the storm that had just blown through my world, and clueless as to how to proceed.
Reeling, I tried to make sense of the events of the last sixteen years of my life, but kept honing in on the last twenty-four hours.
Mam, Darren, Joey, Johnny, Gibsie, Claire, Mrs. Kavanagh…my father.
Always my father.
It had been the most uncomfortable cup of tea I’d ever slurped my way through in Mrs. Kavanagh’s kitchen earlier, with Joey looking like something hell had thrown up sitting beside me, staring in confusion at the scone and clotted cream on his side plate. I had no idea what to say to Johnny’s mother, and it was made worse again by the sobbing fits that took her over every time she looked at me and Joey.
The drive back to our house was equally as uncomfortable, made marginally better by the feel of Johnny’s hand on mine and the sound of the light flow of conversation between Mrs. Kavanagh and my brother. I think Joey was so startled by Mrs. Kavanagh fussing over him, so completely caught off guard by her kindness, that when she told him to climb into the front seat of her Range Rover, he complied without a fuss.
I had no idea how she had the ability to get words out of Joey, but whenever she asked him a question, he dutifully answered her. She kept the tone light, never once asking either of us a thing about our father, choosing safer topics to discuss – like school, hurling, and his girlfriend, and Joey had responded with genuine, un-snappy answers that were completely un-Joey-like.
However, my elation over having my brother come home with me was overthrown by conflict the minute we pulled up outside my house. What I presumed would be a civilized conversation between two mothers had quickly gone to hell the moment my mother made a derogatory suggestion that Johnny had somehow taken advantage of me.
I’d never seen a woman lose her cool as quickly as Mrs. Kavanagh had.
All it took was those two words and Johnny’s mother blew a head gasket.
It was shocking to watch a usually mild-mannered woman morph into full-blown mama-bear mode and attack.
I’d never seen a woman defend her child as fiercely as she had.
None of us had…
Not even Darren, who seemed to have a knack of calming a situation, could settle our mothers down as all hell had broken out right there and then in our front garden, in full view of my little brothers, with Johnny having to physically carry his mother out of the garden before they came to blows.
Terrible things had been said, our dirty laundry had been aired loudly, and the entire time Joey had leaned against the garden wall with his arms folded across his chest, silently taking it all in, and never once moving to intercept the drama.
The rage swelling up inside of my body, even now, hours later, was both a foreign emotion and a dominant one.
Never in my life had I felt so furious.
Statutory rape. Two words that were swirling around in my head, making it hard for me to function.
How could she say that?
How could my mother even think that?
I was so embarrassed; so completely taken apart by it all.
‘Shannon Lynch? I love you back…’
My heart slammed wildly against my ribcage and I snapped.
‘How could you do that to me?’ I demanded for the millionth time, glaring at my mother who was now sitting at the kitchen table with her mandatory cigarette balancing between her boney fingers.
She didn’t answer me.
She hadn’t answered a single one of my questions for over an hour, but I couldn’t let it go.
I couldn’t walk away.
Not this time.
‘Why, Mam?’ I hissed, tears dripping down my cheeks. ‘Do you hate me that much?’
She shuddered, her frail shoulders jerking violently, as she stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray before quickly sparking up another one.
‘Answer me!’ I screamed, barely managing to restrain myself from reaching across the table and shaking her. ‘You owe me that much, dammit!’
‘He’s not safe for you, Shannon,’ was all she said, and her words were barely more than a broken whisper.
‘You’re going crazy,’ I choked out, shaking my head in horror. ‘You are losing your bloody mind!’
‘I did the right thing. I did the right thing,’ Mam whispered over and over, as she sucked on her cigarette. ‘I protected you.’
‘He’s not a problem for me,’ I choked out. ‘Johnny’s a good person.’ A huge sob tore through my throat and I heaved, feeling so much pain and resentment that I felt I was drowning. ‘And you scared him away. You pushed the one good thing in my life away from me.’ Sniffling, I batted my tears away, furious with myself, my mother, and the whole damn world. ‘He’ll never talk to me again,’ I strangled out, feeling the threat of a panic attack nip at my heels. ‘You ruined everything for me!’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘You’ll see, I did the right thing.’
‘Mam,’ Darren, who was sitting opposite our mother, interjected. ‘You’re not making any sense here.’
‘She can’t make sense of it,’ I strangled out, pointing an accusing finger at her. ‘Because she knows she’s wrong.’
‘I’m not wrong,’ Mam whispered, trembling. ‘He’s just like your father.’
‘Mam!’ Darren snapped. ‘Don’t say that.’
‘It’s true,’ she whispered, flicking ash into the ashtray and taking another deep drag. ‘He’ll be just like her father.’
‘Stop it!’ I screamed. ‘Stop trying to do that to him.’
‘You’ll be glad I stopped it,’ she whispered. ‘Stopped you from making my mistakes.’
‘You’re wrong,’ I hissed, blinking back the hot, scalding tears. ‘You’re a fucking liar and I hate you!’
‘Shannon, that’s enough!’
‘It’s not enough.’ Backing away, I put some distance between our bodies, because I honestly didn’t feel like I was in control of myself in this moment. ‘Joey was right.’ I blinked away my tears. ‘You’re not good for us.’
‘Come on, Shannon.’ Darren groaned, rubbing his jaw. ‘Screaming and name-calling isn’t helping anyone –’
‘Then stop sitting there and do something,’ I begged, shaking so hard, I felt like I was about to convulse. ‘You know this is wrong.’ My breath hitched and I hiccupped a pained sob. ‘You know what she did was awful, and you’re just letting her get away with it.’
‘No, I’m not,’ he countered. ‘She knows she was wrong, don’t you, Mam?’
Silence.
‘Mam,’ Darren pushed, tone harder now. ‘Tell Shannon that you know you were wrong.’
Nothing.
‘Mam!’ Darren barked, voice cracking. ‘Answer us.’
‘Don’t bother.’ Joey’s voice cut through the stony silence and I spun around to find him leaning against the doorframe, casually observing the situation. ‘She can’t hear you,’ he added, tone emotionless. ‘Because she’s broken.’ He looked Darren square in the eyes and said, ‘You’ll figure that out soon enough.’
‘Joe.’ Crying hard, I barreled towards him, not stopping until my face was buried in his chest. His chest that smelled like Johnny because he was still wearing his clothes. ‘Make this stop.’
‘This is what you wanted, Darren,’ Joey said in an eerily calm tone as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. ‘You wanted her home with us. One big, happy family.’ Tilting his head to one side, he gestured towards our mother and said, ‘I hope we’ve met your expectations.’
I half expected Darren to say something defensive, but he didn’t. He didn’t say a word.
Instead, he looked at our mother who was staring into her coffee stained mug and released a ragged breath. Shoving his chair back, he stood up and walked out of the kitchen without so much as a backwards glance.
A few seconds later, the sound of the front door slamming filled the air.
I threw my hands out and choked out a humorless laugh. ‘I don’t know why I’m surprised anymore.’
Exhaling heavily, Joey released his hold on me and walked into the kitchen, heading straight for the cooker. I watched as he silently went to work, filling a saucepan of water and then pouring the contents of a bag of pasta into it. Setting the saucepan down on the hob, he switched on the heat and flicked on the extractor fan overhead.
When he was done, he wiped his hands on the tea towel on the draining board before turning to face our mother. ‘Get up and take a shower,’ he ordered, tone void of all emotion. ‘I need to feed the boys and they don’t need to see you like this.’
She flinched but didn’t move.
Like the million other times I’d watched this exact scenario unfold through the years, Joey walked over to the table, snatched the cigarette from her lips and stubbed it out. He then proceeded to place both the ashtray and coffee cup on the draining board before returning to her side. ‘Get up,’ he repeated. ‘You stink of smoke and cider.’
Mam dropped her head in her hands and cried.
‘Get up,’ he said for the third time.
Once again, Mam made no move to stand. Instead, she snaked a hand out and grabbed his hand, clutching it tightly in both of hers. ‘Joey,’ she sobbed, clinging to him. ‘Joey.’
With a resigned sigh, Joey swooped down and gently helped her out of her seat. A thousand different emotions played across my brother’s face as Mam leaned heavily on his rigid body, sniffling and sobbing against his chest.
‘Keep an eye on the dinner, Shan,’ was all Joey said as he guided our mother out of the kitchen and up the old, wooden staircase.
And here we are, I thought to myself, back to square one.
I took a few minutes to compose myself, wiping my eyes and blowing my nose, and then drained the pasta and mixed in the jar of sauce before calling the boys in from the front room. ‘Dinner.’
Wordlessly, Ollie and Sean ambled over to the table, taking their usual seats. Dishing up their plates, I set them down in front of them with a glass of water each.
I waited for them to tuck into their food before turning to face Tadhg who was leaning against the fridge with his arms folded across his chest. ‘Are you hungry?’ I asked, holding a plate out to him.
He glared at the pasta in my hands for a long moment before turning around and walking away.
Tadhg’s silence spoke volumes and it matched my feelings. I knew he was furious, so was I, but he was reining it in because we had something back in our house, something that we were both desperate to not push away.
Not feeling one morsel of hunger, I sat at the table, in the chair my mother had vacated and waited for the boys to finish before cleaning off the table and washing the dishes.
Numb, I fell into the old age pattern that was my life, as I tidied up after the boys and helped Sean get dressed for bed. All the while, Joey dealt with Mam upstairs.
I found myself checking both the front and back door over and over again, making sure they were locked and then panicking when the sound of a car whizzing past outside filled my ears.
Breathe, Shannon.
You’re fine.
Everything’s going to be okay.
A little over an hour later, Joey returned to the kitchen. ‘She’s asleep,’ he stated, moving for the plate of dinner I had set aside for him. ‘I gave her a couple of her valiums.’
Nodding, I curled my fingers around my cup of tea and blew into the rim, never once taking my eyes off my brother as he heated his plate in the microwave.
Joey joined me at the table, where he ate in complete silence.
‘Are you okay?’ I finally asked.
‘No,’ he replied quietly, setting his fork down on his empty plate. ‘Are you?’
‘No.’
He looked up at me then. ‘It’s going to be okay, Shan.’
‘Which part?’ I whispered.
‘The Kavanagh part,’ he replied.
I exhaled a shaky breath and shook my head. ‘No, it won’t be.’
Resting his elbows on the table, Joey drummed his fingers together. ‘Aoife’s pissed with me.’
My head snapped up. ‘Since when?’
He stared hard at his hands. ‘Since I fucked everything up.’
My heart sank.
Damn you, Shane Holland…
‘She loves you,’ I offered, reaching for his hand. ‘She’ll forgive you, Joe, and you guys will sort it out.’
He shook his head. ‘Maybe I don’t want her to.’
I frowned. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying I’m a fucking disaster, Shannon.’ He pushed his hair back with both hands and exhaled brokenly. ‘And she deserves better.’
‘Are you two broken up?’
He shook his head slowly. ‘No.’
‘Then it’s okay,’ I coaxed, desperate to comfort him. ‘It will be okay.’
Joey shrugged. ‘I just…I don’t want her to watch me turn into hi–’
A loud sound floated through the air, startling the both of us, and causing Joey to close his mouth.
Frowning, I patted my leg that was vibrating for a moment before remembering.
His phone.
Shaking, I dragged the phone out of my pocket and stared at the screen. It was a text from Ma.
‘Who owns that?’ Joey asked, frowning.
‘It’s Johnny’s,’ I whispered, staring down at the expensive piece of equipment in my hands. ‘He gave it to me.’ I looked at my brother. ‘It’s a message from his mother.’
‘Read it.’
‘What?’ I gaped at him. ‘I can’t.’
Joey rolled his eyes. ‘It’s obviously him.’
‘Really?’
Joey gave me a knowing look. ‘Read the fucking message, Shannon.’
Heart fluttering wildly, I clicked into the message.
A crazy fucking amount. x
‘You’re right.’ I blew out a shaky breath. ‘It’s him.’
‘Told you,’ Joey replied. ‘He’s not running on you, Shan.’
‘Are you?’ I asked, looking at my brother. ‘Running on Aoife?’
Guilt clouded his eyes, but he didn’t respond.
And just like earlier with Tadhg, Joey’s silence spoke volumes.
