Page 91 of Things We Never Said
‘Oh, he’s just taking the piss out of me because all I want to eat is pizza,’ April explains. ‘It’s a kind of craving, I suppose.’
‘Kind of, you say? No, that’s exactly what it is,’ Ronan says. ‘We’ve had to have pizza five times this week. And then she eats the remainders for breakfast and lunch.’
‘Four times,’ April says.
‘Five. Saturday – in the restaurant – and then Sunday, Monday, Wednesday and again yesterday at home.’
‘Monday was leftovers,’ April says. ‘That doesn’t count.’
‘It was pizza leftovers though, wasn’t it?’ Ronan asks, grinning broadly. ‘Or was it not?’
‘Oh, whatever,’ April says, batting away his words with the back of one hand. ‘Can we though, Dad? Have pizza?’
Sean laughs and shrugs. ‘Sure, whatever. Ronan, you can still have curry if you want.’
Ronan shakes his head. ‘Nah,’ he says. ‘Pizza’ll be grand.’
‘Are you sure that’s a balanced diet, though?’ Sean asks as he returns the packages to the freezer.
‘Oh, don’t you start,’ April says.
Ronan wide-eyes Sean and nods exaggeratedly. ‘It’s what I keep telling her,’ he says. ‘But Princess Pizza will not be told.’
‘Just stop, both of you,’ April says. ‘I can’t stand it when you gang up on me. Plus I always get the one with all the veggies on it, so it’s fine. It’s what the baby wants. He’s asking for it.’
‘He’s Italian, not Irish, apparently,’ Ronan says.
April puts one hand on her hip and looks at Ronan with exaggerated disdain. ‘Well, maybe he is,’ she says. ‘Maybe I had a secret fling with the guy at Domino’s.’
Ronan pulls a face. ‘You remember what your man at Domino’s looked like, do you?’ he says. ‘Good luck to you there, girl.’
Ronan returns to the car for two six-packs of beer he has in the boot.
‘I’m not sure we need twelve bottles, do we?’ Sean comments. ‘Especially with April not drinking.’
‘It’s all part of Ronan’s theory,’ April says.
‘I call it the beer oracle,’ Ronan explains, removing the cap from a bottle and handing it to Sean. ‘If you can’t make a major decision you just have to spend a night talking about it and getting blathered. By the morning, you’ll know.’
‘Is that an Irish thing?’ Sean asks.
‘Nope. It’s a Ronan thing,’ April says. ‘Be afraid. Be very afraid.’
Ronan raises his bottle to tap it against Sean’s. ‘Cheers,’ he says.
After much discussion about who does the best pizza, Sean gives in to his daughter’s wishes and orders them from Pizza Express via Deliveroo.
They then move to the lounge and, while they wait, Ronan keeps them supplied with beers from the refrigerator. April, for her part, drinks the best part of a litre of apple juice.
They discuss April’s job. She’s in the process of handing over to a guy who will be replacing her during her maternity leave, but it’s not, she says, going smoothly.
Sean asks her what the problem is, and she laughs. ‘Basically, the problem is that he’s an idiot.’
‘Then again,’ Ronan interjects, ‘she’s always telling me that I’m an idiot, so ...’
April pulls a face at her father. ‘He pretty often is,’ she says.
They discuss the baby for a while, with a repeat detour via the subject of April’s pizza diet. ‘You’ve never had a craving,’ April says. ‘So you wouldn’t understand.’
