Hello from the Gillespies by Monica McInerney Read Free Book Online Page A

things. It always did.
    As he walked into the office, the computer was displaying an Irish-themed screensaver, a photo of an historic castle. There was a large map of Ireland on the wall. The whole family shared the computer and the office, but these days he spent the most time in here.
    He pressed a computer key. The castle disappeared and a document appeared on screen. He frowned. Had he forgotten to save this earlier? Then he saw the border of Christmas trees and realised. Angela must have been in here doing her Christmas letter when Ig had his accident. Nick was about to close it and save it in drafts when he saw the time. Four minutes to midnight, 1 December. The date she always sent her Christmas letter.
    At last. Here was something positive he could do for Angela. He knew how much these letters meant to her, even if he had long ago stopped reading them. He had never really understood why she felt the need to share their family news with so many people. In the days when he had still read the letters, he’d often found it hard to recognise their lives in them.
    Three minutes to midnight. He hoped their temperamental satellite internet connection would hold steady. He opened her email address book and saw a group titled ‘Christmas Letter Recipients’. He wasn’t surprised. He’d never known anyone as organised as Angela.
    It didn’t take him long to set up the email and insert the names. After everything that had happened over the past year, even a small gesture for her like this one felt momentous. Important. He wouldn’t tell her he’d done it, either. It would be a surprise when she and Ig came home again.
    One minute to midnight. He knew Angela often called Ig in to the office to press the send button for her, getting him to call out ‘Hello from the Gillespies!’ as the email went. He hoped it wouldn’t matter if that tradition wasn’t followed tonight.
    Right on the stroke of midnight, he pressed send. As he leaned back in the chair, Angela’s Christmas letter left their computer and flew out into the world.

CHAPTER FOUR
    In New York, Genevieve Gillespie was having trouble juggling her phone, her handbag, her work bag and her raincoat as she negotiated her way through the crowds of dawdling tourists and brisk locals on the Greenwich Village street. One of her blue dreadlocks had fallen out of her topknot and was dangling in front of her eyes. The sooner she got rid of them, the better. In her ear, her twin sister thousands of kilometres away in Sydney was hard to hear but clearly upset.
    ‘Victoria, I’m so sorry, but can you please hold that thought right there? Give me two seconds and I’ll give you all the sympathy in the world, I promise.’
    She turned right into an alley, dropped her bags on the ground – moving them in close to avoid any opportunistic bagsnatchers – then held the phone to her ear again. It was dirty here, but at least it was quiet.
    ‘Sorry about that. Can you start again? And can you please speak very slowly? I’ve got the world’s worst hangover.’
    ‘Again? You’ve definitely become an alcoholic.’
    ‘You’re one to talk. Anyway, I’m not one yet. Two big nights in a month isn’t exactly a life on the rocks, is it? Gin on the rocks, maybe. Vodka, too, if my memory is correct. Which it isn’t. Victoria, I met the most hilarious man last night. You should have —’
    ‘Genevieve, can we please talk about me first and then talk about you?’
    ‘Sorry. Of course. Definitely. But can you make it quick? I’m late for work already.’ As she spoke, the work phone in her pocket buzzed again. And again. She took it out – nine missed calls. ‘Holy hell. Victoria, seriously, I can’t talk for long. Something must be going on at work. Everyone’s looking for me.’
    ‘You and your glamorous two phones. Don’t worry. I’ll call you later for a proper supportive conversation. Can I just check what time you’re flying into Sydney? Your text said six, but did