The Girl Who Lied(56)

His gaze continues for what seems like ages. I don’t look away. I can hear the distant chatter of the guests, the sound of Guns N’ Roses playing out ‘Sweet Child of Mine’. Despite the rock music, the backdrop of bird song and leaves rustling in the gentle summer breeze, everything seems to be at one with each other. That includes me and Kerry. I sense some sort of invisible bond pulling our souls together.

His fingertips rest on the side of my face. ‘You know what, Erin, me and you, we’ve got a lot in common.’ He dips in for a brief kiss, before standing up and taking my hands in his, hauling me to my feet. ‘Go out there with your head held high. You’re better than them.’





Chapter 18


Sitting at the dining table in my parents’ flat, I know the conversation I’m about to have with Ed is going to be difficult. I barely slept at all last night. Thoughts were tossed around in my head continuously, until they had eventually merged into a kaleidoscope of ever-changing suggestions and solutions, where I could no longer distinguish one from the other.

Finally, I had drifted off into a sleep, plagued by images of Ed standing next to Jody Wright, laughing at the colour of my hair, and then for me to be whisked away in a little blue hatchback, like the one Niall used to drive, except this time it was Kerry at the wheel but with Diana and Roisin Marshall in the back. All very bizarre, I conclude, as I sip my tea.

‘You’re up early,’ says Mum, standing in the doorway. ‘Ed asleep, is he?’

‘As far as I know. I haven’t seen him this morning.’ I change the subject. ‘You haven’t remembered where the keys for the safe are yet, have you, Mum?’

‘I wish everyone would stop asking me about the keys. Sean was on about them the other day. Had I found them? The Guards wanted to know whether to rule out an accident or not. Honestly, I don’t really care right now.’

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have got all cross like that. Now, are you coming to the hospital today?’ Although Mum fields this as a question, I know it’s a request, bordering on an instruction. I haven’t been to see Dad for several days now and I’m aware it pains her.

‘Yes, I’ll come up this morning,’ I say. ‘I’ll ask Fiona to mind the café. She did actually mention it herself yesterday.’

‘I know it’s difficult for you,’ says Mum, ‘but he is still your father and he is critically injured. You should be there.’

‘I know.’ I feel ashamed my own feelings are so transparent. It hurts her, which, by default, means it hurts me. ‘Sorry. It’s just…’

My voice tails off. Now isn’t the time for this. I’m already facing a difficult talk with Ed; I really don’t need to get into another with Mum. When things are a bit more stable and not in such a state of flux, maybe then I can have the conversation that we have both been putting off for the past ten years. It’s waited this long, it can wait some more.

As if sensing my reluctance, Mum changes the subject. ‘Is Ed heading back home this morning?’

‘Yes, I’ll wake him up in a moment. He needs to get back because of work.’

‘How are things between the two of you?’

‘Fine.’ It’s an automatic response, a bit like when someone asks how you are and really, you could be on your last legs but you still say you’re fine.

‘It’s your mother you’re speaking to now,’ says Mum, clearly understanding that fine doesn’t always mean fine.

Mum is quiet and unassuming, yet underneath that gentle exterior is a perceptive, intuitive and steely woman.

‘Not great.’

‘I didn’t think so.’ Mum takes a sip of her tea before speaking again. ‘Is it salvageable?’

‘Probably, but I don’t know if I want to launch a rescue mission.’

‘If you don’t know, then I suspect you do know, deep down inside,’ she says. ‘Sometimes you have to take a deep breath and be brave. Now, I must get on. Sean is picking me up soon.’

Ed looks at me as if I’ve taken leave of my senses. I can see him visibly compute what I’ve said, only to then disbelieve it.

‘You want to finish with me?’ The incredulous tone serves to back up my appraisal. ‘This really is your choice? When I said you had to make a choice, I didn’t really think you would choose here.’ He emphasises the last word.

I nod before I speak in an attempt to soften my words. ‘I think we both know it’s the right thing to do. Neither of us has to pretend we are “the one” for each other any more.’