Page 101 of The Secret We Keep
“Uncle Paddy,” Evie pipes up, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve.
“Yeah, kid?”
“You’re going to get your behind whooped today.”
He arches a brow, grinning cheekily. “Is that right? And who thinks they’ve got what it takes to take me on, huh?You?” He points a finger at her, pulling a piece of toast off the plate.
Evie shakes her head mischievously, face brimming with love and affection. She makes my heart melt. “Not me,” she jeers at him, pointing at Siobhan. “Grandma.”
“Why?”
“For telling her that tentacles were going to grow out of Bert’s behind,” Siobhan scolds.
Paddy sniggers under his breath, looking at Evie. “Bert,” he says, and Evie snorts into the hand that cups around her mouth.
Twirling a tea towel around in her hand, Siobhan whips the side of Paddy’s leg, making him cry out.
He drops the toast to the table. “Jesus Christ. What’d you do that for?”
Siobhan bounces on the balls of her feet, beginning to twirl the towel once again. “For being a menace.” She cracks it again like a whip.
Paddy fires out of his seat. “Shitting hell. You’ll leave a permanent mark.”
A chorus of laughs echo around the kitchen, and the noise of the room makes butterflies dance in my stomach. I always feel so at home here. I love enjoying these moments of normality. The simple moments that have been few and far between for me.
“There’s more where that came from if I hear you making up rumours about Bert, or anyone else in this village, Patrick.”
“Uh, guys?” Evie says, looking down to the ground. “Kevin’s crapping on the kitchen floor.”
Siobhan throws down the towel. “Evie,” she yells, before frantically waving her hands at Paddy. “For crying out loud, get that dog outside, Patrick.”
Evie jumps up, snatching a five-pound note that is laying on the table. She drops it in the swear jar before taking out her change at the same time as Paddy limps pathetically to Kevin, grabbing him and holding him at arm’s length all the way to the door.
I’m up and out of my chair, holding the door open for him, desperately trying to contain my laughter amongst the chaos.
“You little bastard,” Paddy exclaims, dropping Kevin—who’s now in full flow—to the grass.
“That’s a pound in the jar,” Evie shouts from inside.
“Oh, God,” I laugh, pulling out some dog bags from my pocket. “Couldn’t wait for me to drink my coffee, little guy?” I look down at him and his ears prick up, even though he’s still straining.
Paddy pinches his nose. “Smells like rotten cabbage.”
I bump his shoulder. “What do you expect? He eats everything in your garden.”
When he’s done, I reach down and pick up the muck. I tie the bag and hold it out for Paddy.
His eyes narrow, giving me awhat are you doing?look.
“I picked it, you bin it. That was supposed to be the deal.”
Eyes rolling, he holds out his hand, retching as he chucks it in the outside bin.
“Congratulations, Paddy O’Keefe. You finally touched a poo bag. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No. It was so much worse.”
I pretend to sigh dramatically, shaking my head at how a grown man can be so ridiculous. We’ve walked Kevin together for weeks, and he still tries to get out of picking up poo whenever he can.
