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Authors: Alex Coleman

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CHAPTER
2

 

 

 

 

 

Robert
was
an
actor

a
proper
one.
It
wasn’t
like
he
was a
waiter
who
sometimes
showed
up
in
the
background
of
TV
commercials
dressed
as
a
cereal
flake
or
a
toilet
germ. He
played
Valentine
Reilly
in
The
O’Mahonys
,
which
was
a pretty
big
deal.
The
first
time
he
told
me
about
the
part,
he used
the
term
“resident
bad-boy”
and
I
said
that
would
be right
up
his
street.
I
was trying
to
be
encouraging
and supportive,
I
really
was.
Robert
didn’t
see
it
that
way.
He
left me
in
no
doubt
that
he
had
much
preferred
his
father’s
take on
the
news,
which
was
“You’ll
have
to
beat
them
away
with a
shitty
stick”.
Gerry
was
talking
about
women,
of
course, and
he
was
right.
As
soon
as
Valentine
made
his
first appearance
on
the
show,
Robert’s
stock,
which
had
always been
buoyant,
suddenly
went
through
the
roof.
I
didn’t
know
if
he’d
ever
tried
the
shitty-stick
approach,
but
he’d
certainly failed
to
beat
the
women
away.
His
latest
girlfriend
was
a thirty-year-old
fashion
journalist
called
(honestly)
Jemima. I’d
only
met
her
once,
and
that
was
by
accident;
Gerry
and
I bumped
into
the
pair
of
them
at
the
bottom
of
Grafton
Street one
Sunday
afternoon.
We
wound
up
going
for
coffee together,
during
which
time
I
formed
a
very
clear
opinion
of her
– she was a stone-cold bitch.
Rude, aggressive, gossipy, snobby,
she
ticked
every
box,
some
of
them
twice.
I
tried
my best
to
be
friendly,
but
she
kept
saying
things
like
“People who
don’t
vote
shouldn’t
be
allowed
to
have
children”. Eventually
I
gave
up
on
the
pleasantries
and
just
stared
right through
her.
Robert
called
me
from
his
apartment
that
night and
told
me
that
he’d
been
mortified
by
the
way
I
had “treated”
her.
The
tone
of
voice
he’d
used
on
that
occasion
wounded,
yet
high
and
mighty

was
the
one
that
greeted me
when
I
answered
my
mobile
in
the
office
.

“Well, I hope you’re happy now,” he began
.

“Hello, Robert,” I said. “Are you all right? Has something happened?

He snorted. “What, you can’t guess? Go on. Have a go. Something that would make me miserable and make you happy.” There was something odd about his speech. It took me a moment to realise what was causing it. “Good God,” I said
.

“Are you
drunk
? At this hour?

He snorted again, less convincingly this time. “I was drunk last night, if that’s what you mean.

My talentless hairdresser popped into my head again. I shooed her away. “Have you been to bed?

“Never
mind
the
questions.
Are
you
going
to
guess
or
–” “Just
tell
me,
Robert,
for
Christ’s
sake,
I’m
not
in
the
mood
for
games.
I’m
starting
to
get


“It’s Jemima. She’s fucking dumped me.

I didn’t reply for a second, hoping the delay would make me sound appalled and saddened. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that! When d–

“Don’t
give
me
that.
Don’t
give
me
sorry
.
You’re
only delighted.
You’re
grinning
down
the
phone.
I
can
hear
you.” I
undoubtedly
would
have
been
grinning
if
it
hadn’t
been for
the
headache
that
was
already
settling
in
and
getting itself
comfy.
Still,
I
decided
that
I
could
deny
all
without feeling
too
guilty
about
it.
“That’s
ridiculous,”
I
said.
“I’m
not
grinning.
Not
a
bit
of
it.
Why
would
I
be?

He made a noise like a cat choking on a pine cone. “Even if I was blind and deaf and stupid and hadn’t worked it out for myself, I’d still know you hated Jemima because Chrissy told me so, all right? You can drop the act.

My jaw clenched. So did my fingers and toes. “Chrissy told you that I …
Chrissy
? What did she say, exactly?

“She
told
me
she
hadn’t
spoken
to
you
once
in
all
the
time
I’ve
been
with
Jemima,
not
once
without
you
having
a
go.
‘She’s
so
rude,
she’s
so
nasty,
she’s
such
a
tramp,
she’s
too
old
for
him’,
I
heard
it all
and
I just
want you
to
know that
I
heard it
all.” I
replied
without
pausing
to
think
things
through.
But even
if
I’d
taken
the
rest
of
the
morning
to
ponder
it,
I probably
wouldn’t
have
said
anything
different.
“That’s
rich coming
from
Chrissy,”
I
harrumphed.
“You
should
have
heard
the
names
she
called
her!

Quite apart from being a low-down, dirty thing to say about my own daughter, this statement hardly constituted a cast-iron rebuttal of his original point. Nevertheless, I was surprised and a little disappointed to hear Robert issuing a bored sigh. I’d expected a sharp intake of breath at the very least
.

“Chrissy and Jemima got along fine,” he said. “They used to meet up in town without me sometimes.” He paused, letting it sink in. “She only joined in with your bitching because she didn’t want to
argue
. You know what she’s like. We used to laugh about it behind your back. We laugh about all sorts of things behind your back.

There was another pause. I was desperate to fill it, but I could barely remember what day it was. In recent years I had learned to expect all sorts of abuse from Robert. Given the things he said to my face, I could only imagine what he said about me behind my back. The idea that his sister might be joining in hit me like a punch in the stomach
.

“I
have
to
go,”
I
whimpered.
“I
haven’t
got
time
for
this.” “Yeah,
sure.
Mrs
Busy-High-Flying-Executive.
Hasn’t
a moment
to
spare.
God
knows
what
would
happen
to
the insurance
industry
if
you
took
a
few
minutes
off
from
typing
in
people’s
names
and
add–

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