Page 74 of The Rebound
The only thing thathasgotten a little better is my relationship with Louise. While we still can’t go a day without snapping at each other, it’s easier now there are no more lies between us. I no longer have to skirt around her questions and she drops some of her act as well, our dinner eaten in front of the television rather than at the table and I’m finally allowed to help around the house, so I feel less like a guest with each passing day.
One Sunday morning she even grants me the greatest olive branch of all, a chance to accompany her on the weekly “big” shop since Tomasz is sleeping off a late shift. This involves us driving to the nearest superstore, where I trail her around the aisles as she uses a little self-scanner to keep track of everything she puts in the cart. It’s the most excitement I’ve had in weeks. After that is the pharmacy, where she buys pain killers, hay fever tablets and six more pregnancy tests, which I pretend aren’t a big deal and instead act very interested in their two-for-one body cream display. We don’t argue once. Not when I make a bad parking space suggestion. Not even when I forget to remind her to pick up some parmesan. It should have been a nice morning out, a little sisterly bonding session, except on the way back to Clonard she gets a phone call that wipes out our fragile peace in a matter of seconds.
“It’s insulting is what it is,” she tells me now as we speed home.
I brace a hand against the dashboard as the car almost flies over the bridge.
“They seriously think we’re just going to lie down and let them take it.”
“I think the reason they’re pushing so hard is because they know you won’t,” I tell her. “It’s really a compliment if you ask me.”
“I didn’t.”
Noted.
The auction of Castlebay beach is not going well. Or rather the problem is it’s going well for the developers of Ireland’s newest five-star hotel. For Louise, it’s a nightmare. A nightmare come true since the formal complaint she lodged was officially thrown out this morning.
“Can’t the council just buy it off them?” I ask.
“Thecouncilisuseless,” she fumes as we turn onto our street. “They should never have let it go to auction in the first place. Do you know how much wildlife is on that stretch of coast?”
“Lots?”
“Abby.”
“It was a serious guess!”
“They’re just going to bulldoze over it,” she mutters. “Like they do everything in this country and it’s not like the politicians are doing anything about it. Once again it’s up to us to— Who the hell is that?”
“Huh?”
I follow her gaze toward the house, where a sleek black BMW is parked outside. It might not look so odd anywhere else, but considering the last time someone got a new car in Clonard it was 1997, it does seem a little suspicious.
“Maybe it’s the developers,” I say. “With an offer you can’t refuse.”
“Abby, I swear I’ll—”
“Sorry. Is Tomasz friends with any rich doctors?”
“Not that I know of. Unless… oh my God.” Louise slows to a stop a few doors down, turning to me in horror. “Is this to do with MacFarlane?”
“What?”
“Is it the FBI?”
“Louise! No!”
“If you were in deeper than you said you were, I need you to tell me right now.”
“It’s not the FBI,” I snap even as I start to panic. What if itisthe FBI? “I was an associate. There were hundreds of us.”
“But you fled the country.”
“I didn’tfleethe— Oh no.” I still as someone leans out of the driver’s window.
Ohno.
“What?” Louise looks back toward the car. “Who is that?”
