Page 33 of Forever, Maybe
In the background, she heard him sniffle, followed by Lorraine’s quiet voice asking if he was okay. The raw emotion hit Nell like a gut punch, tugging at her heartstrings and leaving her with a gnawing sense of shame. She rarely returned to Norwich, avoiding the memories it dredged up, which meant she was clueless about the practicalities of her parents’ ageing. Artie’s anger toward her wasn’t entirely undeserved.
“Artie, I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I promise I’ll talk to Dad about it.”
“Good. I’ll talk to you next week.” The abrupt parting shot marked the end of the cessation of hostilities. There would be no more revealing of vulnerabilities when she phoned him after next weekend.
Aware she still hadn’t checked on Stephanie—who might well have been axe-murdered by either Grant or Tadgh last night—she gave her a call. Stephanie always brushed off Nell’s attempts to check up on her, insisting that while her taste in men was undeniably dodgy (she had a knack for picking the unreliable, unfaithful and ungrateful), she was confident in her ability to sniff out rapists and murderers, and wasn’t about to end up with one at the close of a night out.
“Morning! How are you? Is Grant or Tadgh your new squeeze or… oh God, are you still with them? I mean, him. Although no judgment if you’re in bed with both.”
There was a snort down the line, followed by a sigh.
“Ach, I went home with Grant. He seemed dead keen to get into my knickers. But while he was in the loo, a message popped up on his phone from Tadgh—‘How’s your grab-a-granny night going.’ Prick.”
“That’s outrageous!” Nell said, wishing she were there to offer a hug.
At twenty-one—the age she’d been when she first met Stephanie—forty-two had seemed like some far-off land of faded dreams and sensible shoes. Now, staring down the other side of it, she often wondered if she’d (her and Stephanie) ever really progressed past being fourteen.
“But Grant didn’t meanyou, surely...?”
“Oh, he did. There was even a reference to a bet. And while I might think of myself as a prize worth winning, I’m not about to be anyone’s joke shag.”
“Quite right. Honestly, he doesn’t sound like a loss. Plenty more fish in the—” She cringed mid-sentence. If she had a pound for every time she’d said that to Stephanie, she could probably buy an entire salmon fishery. “Sorry. That was a rubbish thing to say.”
Daniel poked his head round the door, eyebrow raised. She held up a finger in reply.
“You’ll be coming along to the annual barbecue next weekend, won’t you?”
“Absolutely. Anyway, I’d better go. I’m off to Keto Nate’s gym for a workout—which seemed like a good idea when I signed up but now feels like the worst decision I’ve ever made. The only reason I haven’t cancelled is because Nate probablyexpectsme to.”
Nell signed off with their usual ‘love you’, ‘love you, too’, and Daniel took that as his cue to enter.
“Everything okay? I’ve made you tea.” He held the mug in front of him. “And downstairs, I’m in the middle o’ making the greatest breakfast known to mankind and womankind. After which, I’ll do all the cleaning and washing up,thenspend the entire day doing whatever my lovely wife desires. NoStuffed!stuff. None. Penance for my many, many sins.”
“NoStuffed!stuff?” Nell raised an eyebrow. “I’m deeply honoured.”
He ducked his head in a mock bow. She patted the bed beside her, and he sat down, handing over the tea. It was perfect, just the way she liked it. The teabag barely steeped, the liquid a pale red-brown, with the tiniest splash of semi-skimmed milk.
“That was Stephanie,” she said, wrapping her hands around the mug for comfort. She filled him in on the conversation, including the grab-a-granny comment, which made Daniel wince.
“And before that, Artie phoned.”
Danny sucked in his cheeks and furrowed his brows, his uncanny impression of her oldest brother’s habitual grim expression drawing a brief laugh.
“Take it he was in his usual fine fettle?”
She nodded.
“Someone needs to tell him about this groundbreaking new app called a sense of humour and suggests he downloads it.”
“That’ll be the day,” Nell said, though her smile faded as quickly as it appeared. “He’s worried about Mum.”
Danny’s playful expression sobered. “What, the forgetfulness?”
Oh, he had noticed too. Artie was right to berate her. What a rubbish daughter she was.
“Yes. Lorraine’s convinced she’s in the early stages of dementia.”
Daniel reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers together. “Och, Nell. That’s shite. But aren’t there drugs these days that can slow it down?”
