The Girl Who Lied(59)

‘Something like that.’

‘I’m surprised you’re not running out your frustrations. Isn’t that what you usually do?’

‘You’re being very nosey today, aren’t you?’ I look up, squinting as the sun blinds me. Kerry moves position so his shadow shields my face.

‘Got out the wrong side and then some,’ he says. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’ He whistles to Skip, who comes bounding out of the sand dunes with a tennis ball in his mouth. ‘Come on, boy.’ As he goes to leave, he bends down and squeezes my hand. ‘You know where I am.’

I reply with a squeeze of his fingertips as they slip from mine. No words needed. Unspoken communication. It’s easy being around Kerry, despite my bad mood. He gets me, understands my need for space and time. A kindred spirit perhaps? I watch him plod through the deep sand of the dunes, encouraging Skip to follow.

‘Kerry!’ I call, getting to my feet. I call out again. He turns to look at me.

He smiles and holds out a hand. ‘Coffee? Chez Wright?’ he says as I reach him.

I slip my hand into his. ‘How could I resist?’

He winks. ‘My thoughts exactly.’

The coffee is rich and warming. I cup my hands around the mug as I sit back on the sofa. Kerry’s flat is so different to what I’m used to with Ed. There are no highly polished surfaces, no clean lines, sharp edges and monochrome furnishings.

Kerry’s flat is full of life and excitement. There is a multi-coloured striped throw draped over one side of the sofa, with a royal-blue throw over the other half. Several cushions, none of them matching, are bunched up at one end as a makeshift pillow. Grey carpet tiles are hidden by a large rug in the middle of the room. The reds, golds and browns long since faded and worn in patches. A coffee table, which looks suspiciously liked white-painted pallets with stripped scaffold boards as a top, sits in the middle. The curtains are a plain beige colour, as are the walls and above the sofa a wall hanging depicts some sort of Buddhist deity.

The lack of any other chair forces Kerry to sit beside me on the sofa. He looks around the room. ‘I know it’s not The Ritz, but it’s home.’

‘It lovely. I like it.’

Kerry gives a laugh. ‘Lovely wasn’t what I was going for, but I’m glad you like it.’

‘It homely. Relaxing,’ I say.

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ says Kerry. He places his cup on the coffee table. ‘You should try it more often.’

‘Not something I can turn on and off, but with the right company…’ I take a sip of my coffee and speak again. ‘I’ve broken up with Ed.’

Kerry raises his eyebrows and nods his approval. ‘Good.’

‘You don’t seem surprised.’

‘After what happened, what do you expect? He’s a dick. Joe was spot on about him.’

‘Yeah, well, Joe should know.’ It’s an unfair remark, as I have to admit, apart from one comment at the barbecue, Joe has been fine.

‘Why have you got such an axe to grind with Joe?’

‘A personality clash,’ I say.

‘It’s more than that. What went on with you two in the past? You’ve obviously got some history with each other.’

‘Not that sort of history,’ I say.

‘What, then?’

‘Why don’t you ask your cousin?’ I let out a sigh. ‘Look, I’m sorry. Ignore me. My bad mood seems to want to hang around.’

‘Sometimes it helps to talk about stuff,’ says Kerry.

‘And sometimes it doesn’t,’ I say. I’m not sure what it is, but I feel compelled to expand. ‘It’s nothing, really. Joe and I, we didn’t get on very well at school. He used to like to take the piss out of me. You know, the red hair, the curls…’

‘And that’s it?’

I tap my finger against the mug. ‘He used to wind me up about going out with Niall, Roisin’s brother. She hated me being her brother’s girlfriend and it wasn’t unusual for her to load the gun, as it were, and for Joe to fire it. Quite a team at times.’

‘He’s always been like that,’ says Kerry. ‘Roisin doesn’t sound like she was much of a friend.’

I shrug. ‘A bit limited for friends in Rossway. Sometimes she could actually be really nice, but there was always a price to pay.’

‘Like what?’

I think back, choosing which of the many occasions to cite. ‘Like the time she let me borrow one of her outfits for a disco because I couldn’t afford anything new. Then she went around telling everyone that she had lent it to me, but it was an awful dress and looked even more awful of me.’