The Living by Léan Cullinan Read Free Book Online

and watched his face fall. He went off to do his homework.
    When Auntie Rosemary came back downstairs she said shortlyto Uncle Fintan that they would go, and he put up no resistance. Mum and I showed them out, giving hugs all round as though nothing peculiar had happened.
    I followed Mum back into the dining room, where Dad still sat with the paper.
    â€˜You went too far, Paddy,’ Mum said to him in a low voice.
    He grunted. ‘Ah, sure, she’ll live. I was only having a bit of fun.’
    A T WORK THE next day, George called communal elevenses, which he had not done for weeks. I assumed he wanted to talk about the article in the newspaper, but he said nothing about it at first. We drank our tea and exchanged superficial chat. George made a meal out of his biscuit, chewing noisily and smacking his lips. Paula mostly looked out the window.
    â€˜You’ll have seen that article in the paper about Eddie’s book, so?’ George said at last. He shook his head solemnly. ‘We can’t have that, you know. We have to keep her under wraps until she’s ready to go. Bloody journalists.’ He took another biscuit from the pack. ‘You haven’t mentioned it to anyone, have you?’ His eyes flicked uncomfortably between the two of us.
    â€˜No,’ Paula said, her voice full of contempt. ‘’Cause I’m not stupid, George.’
    â€˜Ah, no, fair enough,’ George said. ‘And what about you, Cate? Even a bare mention could do it.’
    â€˜No,’ I said, and weathered a little jolt as I remembered telling Matthew about the book. Could Matthew be a journalist? It waspossible, I supposed. But I’d given him no detail – certainly none of what was in that newspaper article. I said, ‘I don’t even know what’s in the book.’
    â€˜Eddie lives abroad for good reason,’ said George. ‘We don’t want anyone going after him.’
    I looked at George, thinking open secret … active in Republican circles . I wondered what he’d got up to.
    He laid one hand flat on the table. ‘Now listen. Somebody might try to get you talking. They’re full of tricks. And by the way, I saw a young fella snooping around here over the weekend, so don’t think it’s not happening. I want you to promise me. If anyone asks you about it, it’s no comment , all right?’
    We finished our tea and went back to the main office, where George hovered at Paula’s desk. ‘I’ve to go off in a minute and meet John Lawless about the MacDevitt preface, but tell me, how’s our equine friend? Has he come back to you yet?’
    â€˜No, he hasn’t,’ said Paula to her computer keyboard. Her jaw was set.
    â€˜Might be worth giving him a nudge, no?’
    â€˜Oh, yeah,’ said Paula, with open sarcasm. ‘’Cause you know I’m only dying for him to send back his queries so I can stop sitting on my arse here, twiddling my fecking thumbs, George.’
    â€˜Ah, now, there’s no need to get upset, Paula, I was only asking.’
    â€˜Well,’ said Paula, ‘if you’re finished asking, I’ve a lot to do.’
    Despite the tensions, things were better that week. Paula showed me how to apply a consistent house style to the footnotesand bibliographies of the fisheries conference papers, and I found that I rather enjoyed untangling them.
    C HOIR WAS PICKING up pace now: several weeks into the season we were beginning to hit our stride. Diane’s programme for our Christmas concert was exquisite: Mendelssohn, Copland, Mahler, and of course the Bernstein, our centrepiece. We rehearsed these in parallel with the more popular pieces we’d be performing in Belfast. We socialized together too, and as September took hold, an invitation went round: our bass-line committee secretary and his soprano wife were warming their new flat.
    The evening in question was stormy, and when I weighed up