Anybody Out There - Marian Keyes by Anybody Out There Read Free Book Online Page A

something I'd suspected--she actually enjoyed
the sore throats, they were an excuse to stay in bed, eat ice cream, and be horrible to people.

"Take the vitamin C."

"No."

"Take the vitamin C."

"No."

"TAKE THE FECKING VITAMIN C!"

"Christ, don't have a cow. All right, then. But it won't work."

A fter she'd slammed out of the house, Mum got her sheet of paper and administered my final
dose of pills for the day.

"Good night," she said. "Sleep tight." Anxiously, she said, "I don't like leaving you stuck down
here on your own, with the rest of us all upstairs."

"It's okay, Mum. I mean, with my busted knee, it's easier for me to be downstairs."

"I blame myself," she burst out, with sudden emotion.

She did? Now, how did she figure that one?

"If only we lived in a bungalow! Then we could all be together. We looked at one, you know,
your father and I, before you were all born. A bungalow. But it was too far from his work. And it
smelled a bit funny. But now I regret it!"

This was twice in the one day I'd seen Mum upset. Normally, she was as tough as the steaks she
used to make until we begged her to stop.

"Mum, I'm fine, don't blame yourself, don't feel guilty."

"I'm a mother, it's my job to feel guilty." In another burst of anxiety, she asked, "You're not
having nightmares?"

"No nightmares, Mum, I don't dream about anything." It must be the pills.

She frowned. "That's not right," she said. "You should be having nightmares."
"I'll try," I promised.

"Good girl." She kissed me on the forehead and turned off the light.

"You were always a good girl," she called affectionately from the doorway. "A bit odd at times,
but good."

     7

A ctually, I'm not really that odd at all--well, no more than anyone is; I'm just not like the
rest of them.

All four of my sisters are noisy and volatile and--they'd be the first to admit it--they love a
good row. Or a bad row. Any kind of row, really--they've always seen bickering as a perfectly
legitimate means of communication. I spent my life watching them like a mouse watches a cat,
curled up small and quiet, like a tiny, fringey-skirted sand mite, hoping that if they didn't realize
I was there, they couldn't start a fight with me.

My eldest three sisters--Claire, Maggie, and Rachel--were like Mum: tall, fabulous women
with cast-iron opinions. They seemed like a different race from me and I made sure never to get
into disagreements with them, because any puny thing I said got dashed on the rocks of their
robust, shouty certainty.

Claire, the firstborn, recently turned forty. Despite this, she remains a strong-willed, upbeat type
who "really knows how to enjoy herself." (Euphemism for "unbridled party animal.") Back in
the distant past, her life had a little hiccup, when her husband, patronizing James, left her on the
same day she gave birth to their first child. This meant that she had the stuffing knocked out of
her--for oh, close on half an hour--then she got over it. She met another bloke, Adam, and she
had the good sense to make sure he was younger than her and easy to scare into submission.
Mind you, she also had the good sense to make sure he was a dark, handsome hunk with lovely,
broad shoulders and--according to Helen (don't ask)--a fine, big mickey. As well as Kate, the
"abandoned child," Adam and Claire have two other children and they live in London.

Second sister: Maggie, the lickarse. Three years younger than Claire, Maggie distinguishes
herself by refusing to be deliberately obstructive. But--and it's a big but--she's well able to
stand up for herself, and when she gets an idea into her head, she can be as stubborn as a mule.
Maggie lives in Dublin, less than a mile from Mum and Dad. (See, lickarse.)

Then comes Rachel, a year younger than Maggie and the middle of the five of us. Even before
Rachel began being accompanied everywhere by Luke, she used to cause a bit of a stir--she was
sexy, fun, a bit wild, and her little hiccup was quite a big one, really. Probably the