You, Me and Other People by Fionnuala Kearney Read Free Book Online

don’t tell Meg about the return one telling me where to shove my kisses. ‘How is she?’
    ‘Better than the last time I saw her. She’s getting there.’
    I wonder where ‘there’ is. ‘Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?’
    Meg seems to ignore the question.
    ‘Meg?’
    She lifts her eyes to mine. ‘Would you?’ she says.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Well, it’s not the first time, is it, Dad?’
    I flinch. My past is obviously now out there for debate by all and sundry, but I find myself unable to answer the question. I try to imagine how I’d feel if the roles had been reversed. Not nice, more stomach-churning, and I wonder why I do what I do. Why I can hurt the people I love, why I assume forgiveness should be their first port of call. My brain nudges images of my parents forward, and I’m reminded how their tutoring meant I was always expected to do the forgiving. I close my eyes …
    ‘I didn’t think so.’ Meg returns to Ted Bundy, preferring the antics of a serial killer to occupy the space in her head.
    Just as I think I couldn’t possibly sink lower in my daughter’s eyes, the expression on her face when she opens the door to my brother Ben’s flat with her spare key tells me otherwise. Emma has got there before us.
    ‘Darling! I’ve been so worried.’ Emma leaps from the sofa, which is visible from the front door. She sees Meg immediately and I watch her face process the facts, putting two and two together. ‘Your keys …’ She points to my jacket and the rest of the clothes she’s returned, my CK jocks taking pride of place on top of the pile. ‘They were in your pocket. I hope you don’t mind.’
    ‘Well, it seems you’ll be okay from here.’ Meg turns to leave.
    ‘Don’t go.’ I grab her jumper.
    ‘Don’t touch me,’ she hisses.
    My fingers immediately release her.
    ‘It’s good to meet you, Meg.’ Emma tries. ‘I’m sorry it’s under such strange circumstances.’ She raises both her shoulders upwards.
    Meg nods in her direction, then bolts.
    ‘Darling,’ Emma repeats as the door closes. She nuzzles into my neck. ‘I’m so sorry, so very sorry. I don’t know what came over Harold. I left him with Alan, told him to think about his behaviour, told him I expect him to apologize to you.’
    I can see both our reflections in the tall windows of the living room. The sliding door to the tiny balcony is open and I can hear the sounds of the busy road below. In the glass, Emma’s tall body almost dwarfs mine as she holds me. I see myself, a forty-three-year-old idiot with a gash in his head.

Chapter Seven
    ‘I am just so
angry
all the time.’ I try to explain. ‘Angry and frightened and confused …’ I tell her that Karen came around with her builder brother, Brian, and they fitted a punchbag in the garage.
    She grins. ‘Have you used it yet?’
    ‘Oh yes.’ I hold my hand out to show her the tiny bruise on the second knuckle of my right hand. ‘I convinced myself I was working out, but actually I have a picture of Adam on it.’
    ‘So, why exactly are you angry, Beth?’ She puts it so simply that I find myself getting annoyed at her too.
    ‘I’m angry because my dickwit of a husband cheated on me. I’m angry because I bet he’s stupid enough to think he’s in love. I’m angry because his fragile forty-three-year-old male ego needs to be massaged by another woman. I am angry because he’s greedy, immature and selfish. I’m angry at myself because I forgave him once before when he was greedy, immature and selfish, and I’m angry because he’s made us just another statistic.’ Tears pool in my eyes and I reach for the tissue she hands me.
    ‘Before, you know, it took ages … It was only a one-night stand, at least that’s what he swore to me, but it took a long time to rebuild that trust again.’
    Caroline is still handing me tissues. ‘Research shows,’ she says, ‘that it takes between one and three years to recover from a breach of