Asking for It by Louise O'Neill Read Free Book Online

on silent and put it face down on the armrest.
    ‘How’s Jen?’ I ask.
    ‘You can ask her yourself tomorrow night. She’s staying over.’
    ‘What, like a sleepover?’ I joke, but he doesn’t laugh. ‘Wait, are you serious? Do Mam and Dad know?’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘That is so unfair. As if they would ever let me have anyone to stay.’
    ‘That’s different, Emmie,’ he says. ‘Anyway, they won’t be here. I got them a deal for a night’s stay in a four-star down in Killarney. It was Jen’s idea – she and Sean and Laura got the same one for their folks because it’s John Junior’s anniversary this weekend.’
    ‘Oh yeah, Sean did mention something about that at the park,’ I say, turning my mouth down. ‘Won’t it seem a bit random though? You just buying Mam and Dad a hotel voucher?’
    ‘Hardly random.’ He presses mute on the TV. ‘It was for their wedding anniversary.’
    ‘What? When was that?’
    ‘Today, you moron. They’re thirty-five years married.’
    ‘Oh shit.’ I try and think of what I’m going to do. ‘Can I go in on yours? Ah, please, Bryan. I’ll sign the card and I’ll give you the money later.’ He raises an eyebrow at me. He’s forever slipping me cash and I tend to ‘forget’ to pay him back.
    ‘It’s too late, Emmie. I’ve already given it to them.’
    I’m about to argue with him when Mam comes into the room, her mobile phone tucked between her cheek and her shoulder, a large tray with three cups of tea and a plate of biscuits in her hands.
    ‘Oh, I know, Bernadette, it’s ridiculous.’ She places the tray on the coffee table in front of us, straightens up and takes her phone in her hand. ‘OK, I’d better go here. Bryan’s back from UL for the weekend, he’s so good. I know . . . I know . . . Yes . . . Yes . . . OK, bye bye bye bye bye.’ She hangs up and places her hand on Bryan’s forehead. ‘Are you comfortable? Do you want more water?’
    ‘I’m grand, Mam.’
    ‘Well, I made your favourite biscuits.’ She points at the tray. ‘Oatmeal and raisin.’
    I hate raisins, I want to say. I haven’t eaten raisins in about ten years.
    ‘Did you get it sorted?’ I ask her.
    ‘What?’
    ‘RTÉ Player.’
    ‘Oh no, I’m going to wait till your father gets home.’ She frowns at me. ‘Emmie, give your brother some room, he’s not feeling well.’ She flops into the leather recliner next to the sofa as Bryan starts demolishing the cookies, his appetite miraculously returned.
    ‘Where’s Dad?’ he asks.
    ‘He’s gone for a drink with Ciarán O’Brien.’
    ‘Ciarán O’Brien, is it? Or Ciarán, King of Ballinatoom, to give him his official title.’
    ‘Ah, stop that now.’ Mam takes one of the cups from the tray and throws two cubes of sugar in it.
    ‘Mam,’ Bryan looks at her incredulously, ‘how can you say that, after what happened with Eoin Sayers and—’
    ‘Well.’ Her lips tighten. ‘You weren’t exactly innocent in that little escapade yourself now, were you? And you would have been expelled too if Ciarán hadn’t intervened on your behalf.’
    ‘Oh yeah, I’m sure he did that out of the goodness of his heart. Nothing to do with the fact that we had the college’s All-Ireland and—’
    ‘Well, if Eoin had played football, I’m sure Ciarán would have spoken up for him as well.’
    ‘Jesus, Mam, that’s the point—’
    ‘Bryan.’ Her voice is razor sharp and we both start. Mam never gets cross with Bryan. ‘Ciarán O’Brien does a lot for this town, and he’s very well respected. You were lucky that he stepped in when he did.’
    She gestures at Bryan for the remote control, stretching across to get it from him, and changes the channel, ignoring our protests.
    ‘No talking,’ she says, ‘not while The Late Late is on.’
    We fall silent. ‘Isn’t this nice?’ she says. ‘I can’t remember the last time we all sat in together on a Friday night; it must have been last year some time. You two are