When I strolled into the Biggs’ kitchen later that night, I was aghast, I tell you, a-fucking-ghast, to see Jamie Kelleher sitting on my chair at the table.
Christ, karma moved quickly.
“Gibs,” Sinead acknowledged, intercepting me before I had a chance to toss the intrusive bastard of a cuckoo out of my nest. “I know,” she said quietly, brown eyes locked on mine, as she patted my cheek affectionately. “Best behavior now, you hear?” She grabbed a plate off the counter and handed it to me. “That’s a good boy.”
Nodding stiffly, I took my plate and walked over to the table, not stopping until I was standing in front of fuck-face himself. “You’re in my seat.”
“I didn’t see your name on it, lad,” Jamie joked, looking slick in his fancy black coat and gelled hair.
“It’s right there,” Hugh offered, using his fork to point out the word Gibsie engraved on the chair. “Move.”
“Don’t families usually eat dinner together,” Jamie muttered under his breath as he begrudgingly took the seat at the end of the table.
“They do,” Hugh replied with a sharp edge to his tone. “He is family.”
“Is he here yet?” Claire asked, hurrying into the kitchen, looking better than anything Sinead could serve up. Seriously, this girl was the best thing that woman had ever cooked. “Because I’m running seriously late,” she added, holding one high-heeled boot in her hand. “You’re here?” Her eyes widened when they landed on Jamie. “Hugh, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I’m not your messenger,” he tossed back sarcastically, while he tucked in to his plate of food, not bothering to look up at his little sister.
“Hi, Claire,” Jamie said, immediately standing up and moving to her side. “You look lovely.”
“Thanks,” she replied, cheeks flushed. The smile she was sporting quicky faded when her gaze landed on me. “Gerard,” she gasped, breath hitching in her throat.
I twiddled my fingers at her. “Claire-Bear.”
Her face flushed bright red.
Good.
“Okay, boys, I’m off to work,” Sinead cut the tension by announcing. “Hugh, load the dishwasher and switch it on before you go to Katie’s – oh, and Gerard, run the hoover around under the table after you eat, please, pet.”
“Will do.”
“Best behavior, boys.”
“Always.”
“And back home before eleven o’clock, Claire.”
“Okay, Mam.”
“Jamie, it was nice to meet you, love.”
“You too, Mrs. Biggs.”
“Oh, oh, oh, I almost forgot to ask.” Quickly backpedaling into the kitchen in her green scrubs, Sinead said, “A little birdie told me that you agreed to swimming lessons. Is that true, lad?”
Fuck no! I agreed to take a bath. I made no such commitments to stepping foot inside a swimming pool, but I refused to lose face in front of an asshole like Jamie Kelleher, so I nodded instead.
“You went back in the water, lad?” Hugh’s interest was instantly piqued.
I nodded stiffly.
“I’m so proud of you, pet,” Sinead stated, and then she blew all of us kisses before dashing off for her shift at the hospital.
“Well, shit.” Hugh set his fork down and gave me his full attention. “You really went back in the water?” He gave me a meaningful look. “How was it?”
“Bearable,” I replied with a shrug. And then, because I was feeling bitter, I added, “Claire’s an amazing teacher.” I narrowed my eyes at the cuckoo with his arm around my love bird. “Very hands on.”
Jamie’s nostrils flared, letting me know that he clearly got my drift.
Yeah, I’m watching you, fucker. I glared back at him. Keep your goddamn hands off.
“We better get going,” he said, reaching for Claire’s hand. “The film starts in half an hour.”
“Oh, okay.” Yanking her hand out of his reach, she flicked her eyes to me before shaking her head and making a bolt for the kitchen door. “See you later, guys.”
“Toodles,” I called after them, tone laced with an unhealthy dollop of sarcasm. The moment the sound of the front door slamming filled the air, I faceplanted the table and groaned. “Fuck my life.”
“You good, Gibs?”
“She’s going out with him.”
“Who?”
“Who?” I raised my head to gape at him “Mary McAleese. Claire, you spanner. Claire! Who else?”
“Yeah, and you should support it,” Hugh replied, tone suddenly serious. “I mean it, Gibs. You need to let her go.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Now, he was the one to eyeball me. “Because you’ve been leading her on for years.”
“I haven’t.”
“You have, lad.”
“I love your sister,” I enunciated every word, knowing that it might lead me to an ass-kicking, but not caring either way. It was the truth. “I love your sister, Hugh.”
“Not the right way,” he replied, reaching for his fork once more. “Not the way she needs you to.”
“Which is?”
“If you think I’m giving you tips on wooing my sister, you’re off your rocket.”
“I’m a wonderful woo-er.”
“Sure you are, lad.”
“I am,” I huffed, folding my arms across my chest. “I can woo.”
“You’re a messer is what you are,” he replied between mouthfuls of roast beef. “And that’s grand. We all love your messy antics.”
“But?”
“You’re not exactly boyfriend material now, are you, lad?”
“Ex-fucking-scuse me,” I gasped, practically falling out of my seat in my outrage. “You’re one to talk, mister seeing one girl while pining after another one entirely.”
“Hey!”
“Hey right back,” I snapped. “Don’t deny it, fucker. You think you know everything about me? Well, I know just as much about you.” Eyeballing him, I added, “Mm-hm, that’s right, I see you.”
“You’re talking out of your ass, Gibs,” he bit out.
“I’m spitting facts.”
“You’ll be spitting your teeth out if you don’t give it a rest.”
“Fine.” I held my hands up. “Keep on living in your bubble, lad.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my bubble.”
“Except that it’s a lie.”
“Stop trying to turn this around on me, Gibs!” Inhaling a calming breath, Hugh forced calm into his voice when he said, “Listen, you’re out for a good time and that’s grand, lad. But Claire’s over it. She’s looking for a nice lad to take her out and hold her hand.”
“I take her out,” I argued, jabbing my chest with my finger. “I hold her hand.”
“Yeah, her and how many other girls?”
“Are you implying that I’m some kind of fuckboy?”
“Are you insinuating that you aren’t?”
“I’m not insinuating anything,” I shot back. “I’m telling you straight out that I’m not.”
“Says the fella riding the school receptionist.”
“For the last time, I didn’t ride the woman!”
“Sure thing, Gibs. Whatever you say, lad.”
“It’s the truth,” I defended, rising to my feet. “I am not a fuckboy.”
“Then prove it.”
“Oh, don’t you fucking worry, Hugo, I plan to.”
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Mam said when I walked into the sitting room. “How’s the emancipation treating you, son? Have you had your fill of sulking yet, or are you planning on turning poor Edel Kavanagh’s house into your own personal hotel?”
“Don’t start,” I grumbled, leaning in the doorway. “Are you alone?”
“Yes,” she replied, pausing Fair City. “Keith’s at the bingo.”
“And him?”
“Up the country visiting a few college friends.”
“Good,” I snapped. “Let’s hope he forgets the way home.”
Mam sighed wearily. “Gerard.”
Feeling my shoulders relax a little, I gestured to where my mother was sitting. “And you didn’t go to the bingo?”
“No, Gerard, I didn’t,” she replied, giving me a pointed look. “Because contrary to your beliefs, I am here for you.” Narrowing her eyes, she added, “When you decide to grace me with your presence, that is.”
“You want to be here for me?”
“I am here for you.”
“Fine.” Stalking over to the couch, I threw myself down and draped an arm over my face. “Then be here for me.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Mam, how about everything!” I wailed. “Do we have the good ice-cream in the freezer?”
“Always for you, my little cherub.”
“Good, because I’m going to need the whole tub,” I groaned. “And a razor.”
“Oh Gerard, nothing is that bad, is it?”
“That depends on how you view heartbreak, Mam,” I replied, pressing a hand to my chest. “Because if you took an X-ray of mine right now, you’d see it cracked in half.”
“Ah, come on now,” Mam laughed, turning to look at me. “What’s all this moping about?”
“Claire,” I strangled out, rubbing the sore spot of my chest. “She’s at the cinema with another fella.”
Mam gasped. “She isn’t.”
“She is.” I twisted in discomfort. “Fuck, I think I might cry.”
“When did this happen?”
“Tonight, right now, in front of my fucking face.”
“Language, Gerard!”
“Mam!” I pulled myself up on my elbows to glare at her. “I’m dying from a broken heart here and you’re worried about my language?” I shook my head and gaped. “This hurts, okay? I am in serious pain here.”
“Love hurts, pet,” Mam replied, smothering her smile with her hand. “And I’m sure this is all one big misunderstanding.”
“I literally just watched her drive off in his car, Mam.”
“I don’t care what you saw,” Mam argued, batting the air with her hand. “I know that girl adores the ground you walk on and has done since you were both in nappies.”
“Then you should know that the feeling is very much reciprocated,” I shot back, not one bit embarrassed by my admission. “Which is why I am dying here!”
“I could have a word with Sinead.”
“And say what?” I gaped at her like she had three heads. “Tell her that her daughter broke your son’s heart? No fucking thanks, Mam. I’d rather die on my hill of pride right now.”
“You could always tell Claire how you feel, Gerard.”
“I have. I do. Daily!”
“You could mean it.”
“I have never not meant it, Mam!” Disgusted, I flopped back down on the couch, only to howl out a groan when another thought poked through my depression. “Oh my God. Reginald! I’m going to lose custody.”
“Ah, here now, Gerard Gibson,” Mam laughed, throwing the remote at me. “Cop onto yourself a small bit, will you?”
“It’s always the mother who gets to keep the children, Mam!”
“Son, Reggie’s a hedgehog.”
“She already has all the kittens,” I groaned, biting my fist. “All I’m going to end up with is an ice-cream belly, and a tomcat that hates me.”
“Brian doesn’t hate you.”
“No,” I argued. “Brian is a deceiving bastard who only shows you his best side.”
“Speaking of best sides,” Mam said, “are you planning on showing me yours anytime soon?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to stay at home tonight?”
“Are they going to be coming back?”
“No, I already told you they’re gone up the country for a few days.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
She sagged in visible relief. “Good boy.”
“But the minute he’s back, I’m gone, Mam,” I warned her.
She sighed sadly. “Oh, Gerard.”
