The Bright Side (23 page)

He looked up at me with real gratitude. “I will. I definitely will.
”

“Good luck,” I said and left him
.

On the way back to my car, I texted Gerry and told him where he could find the jeep
.

CHAPTER
11

The
front
door
opened
within
two
seconds
of
my
ringing the bell.
Either
Melissa
had
been
waiting behind
it
the
entire
time
or
she’d
done
some
serious
sprinting
.

“Where
were
you?” she said, and then in a much softer voice, “You were ages, I was worried.
”

“I’ll tell you if you let me inside.
”

She stepped out of the way. “Sorry, sorry. Go on into the kitchen, I’ll put the kettle on.
”

I glanced behind me as I went down the hall. She had a curious expression on her face. I didn’t recognise it at first – and then it dawned on me: she was eagerly anticipating having a conversation with me. I’d forgotten what that looked like
.

Melissa
shook
her
head
almost
continually
throughout
my
story
and
even
managed
a
guttural
“Nooo!”
at
one
stage
– the
crashing
the
car
into
the
pillar
stage,
obviously.
She
was clearly
shocked
by
my
actions
but
excited
too.
Every
so often,
she
would
realise
that
she
wearing
a
smile
and abruptly
wipe
it
off
.

“How do you feel now?” she asked when I was finished. “Better?
”

That was the answer she wanted to hear, so I gave it to her in a thick mumble. “A wee bit, I suppose.
”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad about it. Jesus Christ. You were bound to lash out after what you’ve been through.
”

“Maybe.
”

“And he probably
expected
you to do something. Chances are he won’t even be all that shocked.
”

“You reckon?
”

“And even if he is! So what? You’re not thinking straight. How could you be?
”

“I’m
not
. I’m not thinking straight.
”

“Of course not. Look at you, you’re a bag of nerves.
”

I’d been fiddling with my cup, rather than drinking from it. In truth, I was full of tea and didn’t want any more. But, once again, I let Melissa think what she liked
.

“And you finally had a good cry, that’s progress,” she said. “Even if it was in front of some stranger weirdo.
”

“Eddie’s not a
weirdo,
” I said, regretting my earlier description of him. “He’s just a bit shy and …” I couldn’t think of another word that did the job
.

“Whatever,” Melissa said. “Listen, maybe you should have a lie-down. Just twenty winks.
”

I looked up, stunned. “Just twenty winks” was a phrase from our childhood. My mother used to say it to us all the time when we’d done too much running around and were getting cranky:
I
think
it’s
time
for
twenty
winks.
Later, Melissa and I adopted it for our own ends. We’d mumble it to each other over the phone when we’d been out and were a little worse for wear:
“Can’t
wait
to
get
home
and
have
twenty
winks.”
She hadn’t said it to me in years
.

“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe just … twenty winks.
”

I half-expected her to catch on to what she’d said and, somehow, take it back. But she didn’t. “Up you go,” she said. “The boys should be back soon. We’ll have a nice dinner later and you can just chill out.
”

I didn’t need a lie-down, but I wanted to keep the moment alive
.

“Thanks,” I said and got to my feet. “That sounds nice.” God help me, I even yawned
.

Upstairs, I read Brenda’s article in
Your
Story
again, imagining how my own tale of adultery and revenge would sound if it appeared in those hallowed pages. That quickly became depressing, so I lay down and stared at the ceiling for a while. A few minutes later, Colm and Niall arrived home. Niall was very excited and making lots of noise. I could tell that Melissa was trying to calm him down and knew that it was because I was resting – or was supposed to be at least. The guilt was substantial, but manageable
.

After
half
an
hour
or
so,
the
doorbell
rang.
I
heard footsteps,
then
voices,
then
an
ominous
silence.
Christ
,
I
thought.
It’s
Gerry.
He’s
come
to
throttle
me
.
Someone
came padding
up
the
stairs.
There
was
a
faint
tap
at
the
door.

“Come in,” I said. “I’m awake.
”

Melissa stuck her head in. “You’ve got a visitor.
”

I closed my eyes and put my hands over my face. I wasn’t ready for this
.

“It’s Robert,” she said
.

My eyes flew open and my hands fell away. I sat up and looked at her
.

“My
son
Robert?”

She nodded and retreated
.

I bounded off the bed and took a look at myself in the mirror. The words “hedge” and “backwards” sprang to mind. I rearranged my hair as best I could and poked at the bags under my eyes which was, of course, pointless. Eye-bags don’t do a damn thing when you poke them
.

When I made it down to the kitchen and saw Robert leaning somewhat awkwardly on the counter-top, I realised how long it had been since I’d seen him – it must have been more than a month. He had hair, for a start, an inch or so of it. Last time we’d met, he’d had it cropped right down to the scalp. But that wasn’t the only change. He was heavier now, not fatter but bulkier; time well-spent in the gym, I guessed. I’d never seen him look so much like his dad
.

“Here she is,” said Melissa, who was sitting on a stool, trying to look casual. “I’ll leave you to it, go see what my boys are doing.
”

“You
don’t
have
to
go,”
I
said
quickly.
“Stay,
stay.” There
was
a
good
chance,
I
thought,
that
Robert
would
say
this was
all my fault
– I wanted
a witness in
case things got
out
of
hand
.

I turned towards him and gave him a small smile. “Hello there.
”

He stood up straight and marched towards me. Long before it was necessary to do so, he threw his arms wide. As he gathered me close to him, he put his mouth to my ear and said, “The bastard. I could fucking kill him.
”

Surprise and relief did battle for control of my brain. Surprise carried the day, but not by much. I backed out of his embrace and asked, “How did you find out?
”

He ran his hand around his jaw – an ancient habit – and said, “I rang him this morning.
”

“And, what, he just confessed?
”

“Not straight away. I could tell something was up and when I asked him if he was okay, he told me the whole thing. Fucking
tool
.
”

“Don’t swear, Robert.” His language was just one of the many subjects we rowed about. When I brought it up, Robert usually pointed out that I wasn’t averse to an occasional volley myself and I usually told him not to be cheeky. This time he said nothing
.

“Anyway,” I went on. “What did he tell you?
”

“He was all over the place – I couldn’t even make him out at first. Kept saying he was stupid, that he’d done a stupid thing, he was a stupid man, why had he been so stupid. There were a lot of ‘stupids’ in there.
”

“But what did he say happened, exactly?
”

I
wanted
to
hear
his
precise
description
because
I’d
often
wondered
how
I’d
have
confessed
myself,
if
that
had
ever become
necessary.
Robert
looked
down
at
me
for
some
time before
he
answered.
I
knew
it
was
uncomfortable
for
him, but
I
held
his
gaze.
I
really
wanted
to
know
.

“He said he’d been unfaithful. And you’d caught him. It was just once, he kept swearing that, like, all disbelief.
”

“What couldn’t he believe? That he’d done it or that I’d caught him?
”

“Both, I think.
”

“Did he tell you who she is … was … is?
”

His eyes darted around for a second. “Yeah …
Jesus
. She’s not much older than me. I see her out and about sometimes, you know. In town. In clubs. Surrounded by men.
”

“You’re impressed with your dad.” “No!
”

“It’s
all
right,
Robert.
She’s
very
beautiful,
I
know
that.” “Jackie!
You’re
doing
it
again!”
This
was
from
Melissa,
obviously
.

“Doing what?” Robert asked, looking from his aunt to me and back again
.

I gave her a pleading look.
Not
now
. She backed down. “Nothing,” she said. “I think maybe I will … after all …
”

She slid off her stool and left us alone
.

“We might as well sit down,” I said to Robert. “Would you like a cup of coffee or anything?
”

“Christ, no,” he said as he took a seat. “Are you joking me? I feel like I’m going to fucking split. How could he do this? What’s the matter with him? Aren’t you even angry? How can you be so calm?
”