Three Of Swords E-Book

Rourke, Sam O&apos

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

Nightmares haunt Mia O'Halloran. Having given birth to two babies in her early teens, one the product of a vicous rape. She has spent most of her twenties in a drug and drink-fuelled fog of denial, on the mean streets of London.

Now she is returning home to Ireland, with a new husband, and hope for a new beginning.

But the past will not remain hidden. The truth always bubbles back to the surface no matter how deeply buried. When it does, nothing will remain untouched, as the sins of the past return to expose the guilty.

As Mia's homcoming dreams turn to dust, she must find the courage to face her demons, and the man who ruined her life all those years ago.

But the truth comes at a cost, even to those who are innocent...

Leseprobe

Sam O'Rourke

Three Of Swords

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

Contents

Contents 4

Prologue 5

Chapter 1 10

Chapter 2 34

Chapter 3 55

Chapter 4 76

Chapter 5 103

Chapter 6 118

Chapter 7 127

Chapter 8 142

Chapter 9 161

Chapter 10 181

Chapter 11 197

Chapter 12 215

Chapter 13 230

Chapter 14 247

Chapter 15 266

Chapter 16 297

Chapter 17 328

Chapter 18 334

Chapter 19 350

Chapter 20 370

Chapter 21 384

Chapter 22 390

Chapter 23 396

Chapter 24 407

Chapter 25 418

Chapter 26 436

Chapter 27 441

Chapter 28 451

Epilogue 466

Prologue

July 1984

London

‘C’mon, Matt, get in there. This little lot has cost me a fucking mint so far!’

Matt swallowed hard. He was bricking it, but then why wouldn’t he? Andy and the others may have had little concern about performing in front of a crowd, in fact as far as they were concerned it was all part of the night's entertainment. But now that it was his turn he was wondering if this was such a good idea after all. Initially, when Andy had suggested it, it had excited him to the point of euphoria, promising to be one of the best nights of his life. But now the night had finally arrived, he was suffering from a huge dose of the jitters and not because of what his fiancée Lindsay may have thought. He hadn’t given her a single thought all evening. What he was worried about was having to perform in front of this lot, all of his best mates. It was bad enough that the few girlfriends he had had to date, had laughed when he had whipped out his equipment and held it at them like some inadequate garden hose. Lindsay had done the same until she showed him the ropes. So the thought of acting out his little fantasy in front of Andy and the crew was softening him by the second, but he knew they would crucify him if he backed out now. Andy wasn’t a complete bastard he reasoned, he had some hope, with him being best man and all. After all, hadn’t he gone and organised this whole event just for him, promising him the night of his dreams? Well in fairness to Andy, he had delivered his end of the bargain, so now finally it was his turn, and knowing Andy he would expect wholehearted participation. Willingness to partake was not the problem, it was the audience that was causing him distress as he knew they would rip his performance apart. Now that the weekend had arrived, he wanted to make sure he would remember this night for the rest of his life. After all, he needed some sweetener for putting up with the last two years, never mind getting shackled to Lindsay till death they do part. He loved her, that wasn’t the issue, but had to admit he had been far more excited about this night than the big day next week. And to be honest who could blame him. Lindsay and her friends had had a field day choosing that organza, this lilac, that lace. He had been bored to tears by the whole marriage malarkey. So when Andy said he was organising a stag to remember, he knew Andy would deliver. And in fairness he hadn’t let him down. Asking straight up what he wanted, what washis treat...no strings, no dramas. And he told him...he wanted a red-head. And not your run-of-the-mill "bottle red" types either. He wanted the real McCoy. He had always wanted to taste red and up until now never quite had the opportunity. Lindsey, though pretty in her own way, didn’t quite have the "three amigos" as he liked to call them...tits, legs and ass, she also didn’t have the red hair he fantasized so much about. But even so, he could still rise to the occasion when needed. Make no mistake, his Lindsey was lovely, but she had smaller tits than a robin, shorter legs than his Nan’s VCR stand, and a nose that entered the room before the rest of her face caught up. So he wanted his final unmarried shag to be momentous and absolutely unforgettable. How else was he going to perform for the foreseeable with Lindsay, without this sweet little memory to get him through the years ahead? And now that the moment had finally arrived he wanted to savour every moment of it. Watching the creamy-skinned red-head sprawled on the bed, thighs apart, large breasts poured into a tiny green satin bra, he let his hungry eyes devour the image. He couldn’t wait to taste her. Slowly at first, before pumping her long and hard. First though, he had to get rid of Andy and the others. Besides, they had had the other girl to entertain them most of the night, and now it was his turn. Granted, the dark-haired one was prettier than the red head, with her long black hair, hanging down the length of her back and the bluest eyes he had ever seen, but she was sallow and tit-less, just like his Lindsay. Definitely not his type.

‘Well,’ Andy elbowed him, ‘what you waiting for?’

‘Andy, mate, I was wondering...?’

‘Fuck's sake, mate...what?’

‘I’d kind of like to be alone with her...get me?’

‘What...and ruin our fun?’ he laughed.

‘Nah, mate, just fancy a proper bit, on me own. What you reckon?’

Andy looked at him suspiciously, before letting the smile curve his lips.

‘Course, mate, no problem. I’ll get rid of the lads...give you some space,’ he winked.

‘You’re a, mate,’ Matt nodded, feeling happier. At least now he could really enjoy his little red-head without any interference or piss-take. Watching his friends leave, Matt held his breath until the door closed after them. Finally he was alone with her. He could see the brunette laid out, asleep or high, he couldn’t decide which. But the red-head was still wide awake smiling benignly at him. Tearing off his clothes, he climbed onto the bed and knelt on all fours over her naked body. As she lay beneath him, he reached out to touch the hair falling in and around her face. Her creamy-white skin, soft yet supple against the inside of his thighs caused him to harden. It was a lust he had never felt with Lindsay, and it overwhelmed him, bringing a hungry smile to his thin wet lips. Finally, his moment had arrived, he was about to taste a real red-head, once and for all, and he had no intention of waiting a single second more. As he closed his eyes with the exquisite taste of anticipation moistening his mouth, he thrust forward penetrating her fast and urgently just as the door burst open. So deep was he in the moment, he didn’t feel Andy and others pile naked onto the bed beside him until one of them slapped his backside as he pushed deep inside her. Feeling himself shrivel up faster than a fig in a desert, he groaned loudly knowing that he would never get to taste his real red now and sighed as he pulled out from her. Kneeling back, he expected her to be surprised, annoyed even, but all he saw was the same banal smile and glassy green eyes that had been staring through him all evening. It was then he realized that this girl was on a different fucking planet let alone in the same room with them all. Whatever she had taken seemed to have numbed her to the point of comatose. But then, looking around at his laughing friends waiting to take their turn, he didn’t blame her one little bit. Just like him, she must have known this was going to be a long-long night.

Chapter 1

Ten years later

Eranmore, Co Cork

Mia stepped into the room and cast her eyes over the stained and scarred mahogany desk. Although cluttered with stacks of files, she saw some movement behind it. It took a moment for her to recognise the navy woollen blazer stretching across the hunched broad shoulders. But it was the tufts of hair, now greying and curling down over the collar that brought a smile to her lips. ‘Doc?’ she called, straining her neck over the desk.

‘Gimme two secs….two secs, now...’ he groaned, rising slowly.

'Doc, is that you?' she said. Mirroring her surprise, she watched him squint refocusing on who was standing in front of him.

‘Good God, if it isn’t yourself!’ he flushed heaving himself out of his seat reaching for her hand.

‘You remember me then?’ she said, clutching his hand squeezing tightly.

‘How on earth could I forget?’

‘Well, the prodigal one returns,’ she laughed.

‘So I heard, and a married woman too,’ he smiled, his heavy jowls shaking as he acknowledge her. ‘Mia, how long has it been…?’ he asked.

‘Too long,’ she sat, pulling the chair toward the desk.

‘I’d have known you anywhere,’ he smiled.

‘I thought you’d be long gone by now...from here, I mean.’

‘Ah, you were expecting, Niall, you just missed him actually. Little fecker has me as his locum now, can you believe that?’

'Can't imagine where he got that idea,' her mouth curved.

'His mother.’.

'Don’t mind that, you couldn’t stay away, I bet,' she laughed . 'How's ever, you’ll have to do,' she added lightly hoping to hide her deep-rooted gratitude that he had actually remembered her.

‘It wasn’t too long ago when my surgery was full of women queuing to see me.’

‘Maybe the good doctor’s wife hunted them all off to Dr. Hurley’s. You were left with the safe ones.’

‘I’ve never been safe from any of the women in this town.’

‘I can see why.’

‘Stop teasing an old man and tell me what I can do for you?’ he chuckled lowering himself back into his seat.

‘Your prices are gone up for a start.’

‘Again the--’

‘I know-I know, the wife’s idea,’ she rolled her eyes playfully.

‘Golf doesn’t come cheap,’ he added earnestly.

‘A-ha, finally...the truth,’ she teased again.

‘Never mind the truth, make this visit worthwhile and I’ll throw in a discount.’

‘And risk being sent off to Dr. Hurley.’

‘That would make an old man very sad.’

‘It’s really good to see you again,’ she paused.

‘So tell me, have the years been good to you, Mia?’ the sincerity in his voice warmed her.

‘Ah you know, some yes, some no.’

‘And now?’

‘Good. Great in fact...’ her voice trailed off as she saw his brow lift. ‘Really they are. I’d forgotten what a cynic you were,’ she laughed.

‘Cynical no, old yes.’

‘Old meaning all wise, eh?’

‘That and knowing my patients.’

‘What… even after all this time?’

‘A doctor never forgets,’ he smiled kindly.

‘I thought that only applied to elephants?’

‘Them too,’ he added. An easy silence filled the room as they locked briefly onto each other's gaze, each seeing beyond their effortless words and smiles. The banter almost too easy, without any hint of the time or distance that had passed. Such was her ease, it was hard to believe that it had been almost nineteen years since she had last sat in this room, across from that same face, and as determined then as she was now, but that was where the similarity ended. It would have been too easy to drift back to that moment and wish that nothing had changed, but it had. It was as if some forgotten part of her had been left behind in this very room, a part she now remembered with stark clarity. The absolute naivety she had about her then, the borderline stupidity even, at how she believed the world worked. What had happened after departing, all those years ago, certainly destroyed any notion of the future she thought she had mapped out. But with small consolation, having returned here to this very room, she knew she was now finally on the right path back to an ordinary life. A simple, but wonderful, ordinary life. Shrugging at the small triumph she focused again on the ageing blue eyes of the smiling face across at her.

‘So tell me, what do I owe the pleasure?’ he asked, softly interrupting her thoughts.

Letting her eyes drop, her lips twitched. It was an unusual situation for her, if she was honest, and she wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. No one had ever really known her to the extent that this man did, not even Oliver, and yet here he was asking how she was. It was like sitting in front of a mirror and knowing you couldn’t lie. Not that she wanted to. It was just she was so out of practice at being totally honest with people. So guarded had she become of her past, so fiercely protective of her future, that she had decided a long time ago, the truth was too painful to deal with. But with Doc, it was different. He already knew.

‘Hmm...?’ he gently pressed.

‘It's not about what you think…y’know…’

‘Sure, how can you know what I’m thinking?’ he smiled kindly ignoring the flash of coolness flickering in her eyes.

‘I’m a woman,’ she toyed.

‘And I’ve been married as long as you’ve been on this earth.’

‘And that makes you...?’

‘Tolerant.’

She smiled at him affectionately. She knew what he was doing, but she was just trying find a way of responding to him.

Again he waited for her to speak.

‘Seeing you has surprised me, Doc, to be honest. Though I‘m glad you’re here.’

She so wanted to say it, blurt it all out, but for some strange reason, she found the words died on her lips. Seeing him here was not what she had anticipated, but then what did she expect, moving back home to Eranmore. Wasn’t this all part of her ‘journey’ as she had been told. Journey…it was the most ridiculous analogy, when she thought about it. An easily spoken word, an offhand balm casually used to soften emotional pain. Making it sound all the more acceptable by calling it something pleasant. Acceptable to whom she didn’t know, but journey, or otherwise, here she was and here he was. And now that she was here with him, she suddenly realized that this was exactly who she needed to see. After all, he was the only one who could answer her questions truthfully. ‘So, Doc, why am I here?’ she laughed again lightly.

He didn’t answer.

‘Stop being so bloody pragmatic and indulge me,’ she rolled her eyes.

‘While the sun is shining and the greens are empty?’ he reproached with a smile.

‘Don't imagine you get many prizes for the old bedside manner, Doc,’ she chuckled scathingly.

Leaning forward on his desk, he rested his chin on his fist cauterizing any further small-talk. He had to know. ‘Tell me, Mia?’ he added letting the humour drift gently from his face.

‘I’m good,’ she shrugged nonchalantly.

‘I can see that. Though I sense there's a 'but' coming.’

‘Like most things in my life, there’s always a 'but'.’

‘Life’s full of them,’ he replied.

‘Yeah I know…mine more than most,’ darkness spread across her face.

‘So what is it, Mia?’

‘To be honest I came for something else,’ the smile fell from her lips.

‘First things first, then we'll worry about the other,’ he said.

Turning her face toward the window, she followed the rays of sunshine struggling to shine through decades of dust. Their purity brought an unanticipated smile to her lips as she remembered a time when a blue sky was the most important reason for getting up in the morning. How long ago that was she really couldn't remember, but she could still recall the simple pleasure of it. Before Doc had a chance to prompt her again, a single cloud drifted across her perfect sky, blocking out the sun and its heat for a few moments. This simple act of nature brought her back to the present. ‘I saw him today,’ her words tumbled out.

‘Who?’

‘Him,’ her lips barely moved.

‘Who?’ he frowned.

‘The reason I left?’

‘Oh,’ he acknowledged, and his eyes hardened ever so slightly as his thoughts gathered speed. ‘Here? You saw him here in Eranmore?’ he finally said.

‘Yes,’ she dragged her gaze from the window back to his face.

‘He still lives here in the town?’ he added.

‘Yes,’ she sighed, ‘he sure does.’

‘Has he always lived here, Mia?’ His face creased with concern.

She nodded again avoiding his eyes. ‘But I thought you said at the time--’

‘I lied, Doc. At the time it seemed the right thing to do.’

‘And now...? It's never too late, you could always--?’

‘What...name him?’ her lip curved up in disgust.

‘Perhaps.’

‘No. I’ve no intention of going down memory lane with that bastard.’

‘Mia!’ he exclaimed, puckering his lips and holding a hand up.

‘Sorry, Doc, but he is a bastard...and more.’

‘What I mean is you’ve come back to live here, right?’

‘So?’ Her chin jerked up defiantly.

‘And you’re okay with seeing him?’

‘No.’

‘Then why come back?’

‘Closure maybe.’

‘It’s a word,’ he humoured.

‘A word that comes closest to the truth.’

‘Does he know you’re back?’

‘He does now.’

‘He’s seen you,’ a heavy frown etched itself across his brow.

‘He has,’ her eyes hardened.

‘And...?’

‘And he ran like the spineless prick he is,’ she sneered.

‘I don’t know what to say, Mia,’ he added smoothing his finger tips against his forehead. ‘Why do you think I left?’ she asked. ‘I know why you left,’ his voice softened. ‘You had little choice.’

‘No,’ her voice hardened. ‘He didn’t give me a choice. Raping me was his choice!’ ‘I know, Mia,’ he frowned.

‘Don’t get me wrong, Doc, it’s not easy, seeing him walk around not giving a rat's arse about what happened to me. But I had to do it, y’know...? I had to take something back.’

‘And have you?’

‘In a sense. I can now look at him, I can see him for what he is without running. That’s something, I thought I’d never be able to do.’ ‘Well there aren't many who could do it.’

‘Maybe not,’ she conceded. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Mia, I do understand why you chose to see him again, that can be healing in its own way I suppose…but living here...? Won’t you find it difficult seeing him every day?’ he pressed.

‘Perhaps,’ she agreed, ‘but strangely enough, it’s easier seeing him as he is, for what he is…and, besides, this is my home. Why should I stay away? Why should I make it easy for him? It’s just what he wanted isn’t it? Just what he’s had all these years.’ ‘Probably, but what about your husband, what does he think about all of this?’

‘Oliver?’ she shook her head. ‘He doesn’t know.’

‘Mia,’ he admonished, ‘surely you have to tell him.’

‘Hmm,’ she placated.

‘Will you?’

‘No.’ ‘Why not?’ She shrugged uneasily.

‘You can still press charges...I’ll--’ ‘No. Leave it…’ she paused.

‘But--’

‘Please, Doc,’ she pleaded again, ‘in my own time.’

‘Mia?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Did you ever…talk…to anyone about what happened to you?’ he asked gently.

‘Once,’ she faltered.

‘Did it help?’

‘I suppose.’

He acknowledged her lie with a smile, knowing her reticence to elaborate had ended the subject, but made a mental note to press her more on it when the time was right. ‘Well, Mia, I’ll always be here for you.’

‘I know, Doc,’ she smiled lowering her gaze from his. There was a brief, awkward, silence between them before she spoke again. ‘Can I ask you something?’ she said, interrupting his thoughts.

‘Never stopped you before.’

‘Seriously,’ the smile returned to her face.

‘I’m intrigued.’

Leaning back into her chair she crossed her legs before she spoke. ‘How confidential are your files? Y’know…you’re notes?’

His grey brows knitted as his face broke into a frowning smile. ‘I think I know what this is about.’

‘Well?’ she persisted.

‘Haven’t they been to-date?’ he answered.

‘Yeah, but I need to know for certain.’

‘Have you ever heard any information leaked from this surgery?’

‘No, but--’

‘The only way information has ever come out from inside these walls is from the patients themselves, never from me.’

‘Hmm.’ ‘You know that, Mia, why ask me now, after all these years?’

‘Because…’ she hesitated. ’Let me guess? You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’

Her eyes widened with surprise. ‘So you're psychic now as well, eh?’

‘No, nothing as exciting as that, just in this business too long, I guess. There’s an awful lot I know about this community, and when I go, it’ll go with me.’

‘I know, but…’

‘My wife understands patient confidentiality,’ he said, pre-empting her next question.

‘Does she?’ she looked across at him boldly.

‘Women are nosey by nature, it's genetic, think I don’t know that?’

‘Cheeky,’ she smiled.

‘Trust me, Mia,’ he added quite seriously, ‘there are ways and means of maintaining the privacy of every patient that comes through that door. You have nothing to fear being completely open with me. You have in the past and nothing has come to light, so why worry now?’

‘Because maybe I have more to lose now,’ she thought aloud.

‘Not necessarily, perhaps you’ll have more to gain.’

‘You think?’

‘I know.’

‘Does being old give you that self assurance?’ she teased.

‘Yep. That and a 13 handicap.’

She studied his furrowed old face with fondness. ‘Don’t ever retire, Doc,’ the words fell from her lips, ‘and Doc, you guessed right. I’m pregnant.’

‘How far along?’

‘Far enough to know that I’m pregnant.’

‘Happy?’

‘Very.’

‘Good,’ he nodded.

‘Bet you never thought you’d hear me say that.’

‘What?’

‘That I'm happy about being pregnant.’

‘Stop fishing, Mia, told you long ago, I’m not your judge and jury. Life shoots arrows at people, some get hit and die, others pull out the arrow and patch up the wound.’

‘And I’m a patcher-upper, eh?’

‘Yes you are. Stop beating yourself up over past decisions and enjoy what you have?’

‘And Oliver...?’ she asked.

‘You need be honest with him. These things have a nasty habit of rearing--’

‘Their ugly head, I know,' she finished his sentence.

‘Does he know about this pregnancy?’

‘Yes,’ her mouth softened into a smile.

‘You’re concerned about the delivery, aren’t you?’

She nodded.

‘Well, Mia, I’ll have a word with the Justin Corbett...you're having the baby at St. Francis`?’

‘I'd like to.’

‘Justin’s a good man, I’ll make an appointment for you.’

‘And confidentiality?’

‘Of course.’

‘And you’ll have a chat with him?’

‘I will.’

‘When do you want to see me next?’

‘After your scan sometime. Come in for a check-up and we’ll take it from there.’

She looked around the room as he picked up his pen to write.

‘How come you’ve always stayed?’ she asked.

‘Stayed?’

‘Here. I mean, it’s a place people come back to retire.’

‘You’re not retired, are you?’ he smirked.

‘No. But I came back for...well, to move forward. You stayed, how come?’

‘I had a very good reason to stay.’

‘What?’ she rushed curiously.

‘The climate,’ he shrugged.

‘Tuh!’

‘The people.’

‘Now I know you’re lying.’

‘The golf then.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I just did.’

‘Oh I get it...Dr. Walsh has his own skeletons, eh?’

‘There’s no one in this town who doesn’t,’ he added seriously.

‘Tell me.’

‘Golf.’

‘Okay-okay, I won’t ask anymore. Blackheart!’ she teased.

‘That my dear, Mia, is true.’

‘So…what first? Blood pressure? Weight? Diet? What...?’ she asked.

‘This…’ he held up an empty plastic phial.

Grabbing the empty urine bottle she stood up exiting through an internal door in his office.

‘Hope you’ve Andrex, Doc, none of that cheapo Pound Shop stuff!’ she called from inside the toilet.

A small laugh escaped from his mouth as he leant against his fist, doodling her name on his desk pad. As his hand circled her name with an easy flow, a flicker of genuine concern sparked behind his eyes. If he was honest he had to admit to being overwhelmed by her visit. And it was not because of the manner of her exit, years earlier, from this room and his practice. Rather it was because of the time that had passed and the memories, seeing her, evoked. He really hadn't expected to ever see her again. It had been his perception back then that the beautiful flame-haired girl had been traumatized beyond his experience to help. He recalled, with shame, how he had naively treated her physical injuries only. He had no idea how to deal with the immediate aftermath of that night. Except to make the right soothing noises and follow, step by step, medical procedures on how to document forensic evidence. While muttering foolish, and upon reflection, insensitive predictions on how she would soon recover from her ordeal. Older, wiser, and worn from years of being witness to the depths to which humanity is capable of plunging, made him feel shame and regret at his foolish arrogance that night. Yes, she had recovered, physically at least. But even now he could see the pain in her eyes that had never healed. Could he have done more? He always felt he could have, mainly because she was one of the few patients, he had encountered, who had walked away without any follow-up treatment. Abandoned at such a vulnerable time, so raw, so in need of help. Either he mended them, referred them, or death claimed them, but few if any had walked away from his practice unaided, traumatized and without help. He had failed her in the worst possible way really, not just as a doctor, but as her only friend that night. Perhaps she saw his glaring inability to deal with the ugliness, and in his own way he suspected that her exit from Eranmore was partially down to him. And yet she came back. Hearing the flush of the toilet, he let his pen drop and glanced toward the door. Something had bothered him about her return, and now he knew exactly what it was. He knew that this wasn’t over for her yet. Experience had taught him enough to know that the truth would come out and sooner than Mia would expect. But this time he would be ready. Fixing a large smile to his lips as she returned, he reached out taking the bottle from her.

‘I’m going to make sure I see what you do with it this time, Doc. Bet you’re bottling it and selling it to Mulcahy’s as beer.'

‘And how else does a poor locum supplement his green fees? He laughed.

***

Robbie sank both hands deep into the scalding dishwater, ignoring his father's jaundiced eyes burning right through him from behind. He knew the man had hated him, at least that's how it had been for as long as he could recall. And he also knew almost by script what he would say and do next. It was old and worn and always laced with malevolence. Pat’s rage came randomly and generally whenever the mood took him. A loss at the bookies usually did it, or if he felt slighted in some way. But knowing Pat, they could just as easily be imagined scenarios, made up in the lunacy of his paranoid mind. The only people who ever saw this side of him lived behind the door of No. 7 St Jude’s Cottages.

‘Sit down, Pat, I kept you some dinner,’ Mary Dalton twitched in her seat.

Stumbling across the kitchen toward her, his belch rolled up and out floating the stench of regurgitated ale beneath her nose. ‘I'm not eating that shite, give me your purse!’ he belched again thumbing at his nose.

Mary didn’t move, neither did Maria. Robbie knew just as his mother and sister knew, Pat fingering his fat bulbous nose was the first sign of his growing irritation.

He swayed.

‘Pat...’ she swallowed.

The room was silent apart from the sounds of plates being stacked on the draining board.

‘Just give me your bag,’ He ordered.

‘Pat, I’ve little--’

‘Give me your fucking bag, I said!’

‘It’s over there,’ her eyes flickered toward the counter top.

Turning heavily on his heel he swayed across the room pulling her handbag toward his bulging gut. The sound of Pat’s incoherent mumbling could be heard as he rummaged through the bag pulling out bundles of letters, utility bills, and a set of rosary beads.

‘Jesus, Mare, you’ve enough shite in here to fill a quarry.’

Her hands twisted and interlocked nervously on her lap, but she said nothing.

‘Where’s your purse?’ he snarled throwing her bag to one side, scattering the rosary beads across the countertop.

Taking his hands out from the washing bowl, Robbie dried them on the dishcloth and turned around. ‘I have money,’ he said, his words slipping out evenly.

‘I don’t want your bastard money,’ Pat slurred, curling his lip up in disgust. ‘I want my own money.’

‘Pat…please,’ Mary interjected.

‘Enough of the fucking whining, just give me your purse!’ he roared. ‘And don’t mind lying to me, I know you’ve money. Just don’t want to give it up in case that fucker-there needs it for his faggot college.’

Mary shot to her feet clattering her fork against her plate.

‘Leave him alone,’ her voice shook.

‘Fuck's sake, Mare, the little bastard’s not even yours and you’re spending my money on that…that little queer!’ he sneered.

‘Stop it!’ her words caught in her throat.

‘Ah shut up woman and give me your purse. Let me get out of here away from ye and that half-breed.’

Rushing passed him Mary pulled open the cupboard door and reached into the back. Snatching her brown leather purse from behind some cups, she shoved it with small force into his bulging stomach.

‘Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?’ he smirked emptying the purse into his hand. Shoving the loose change into his pocket, his mouth twitched malevolently as darker thoughts glistened behind his small piggish eyes. ‘Be up when I get home,’ he warned, before turning and walking from the room.

Nobody spoke until they heard the slamming of the front door.

‘You okay, Ma?’ Robbie sighed.

She let a smile flicker across her lips.

‘Here take this,’ he reached into his pockets and stuffed two paper notes into her hand.

Her eyes fell upon two twenty pound notes, at least half his wages from his summer job. ‘No, love, I’ve more put away, you keep that.’

‘Put it with your millions then,’ he winked.

‘Honestly, Rob, I do. I just don’t let him know.’

‘Save it for me so,’ he smiled easily. Both of them knew what that meant, his mother would save half and buy food with the rest.

‘I’m going out!’ Maria announced, scraping the legs of her chair as she rose from the table.

‘Your dinner, love?’

‘Not hungry,’ she seethed.

‘Maria?’

Both of them heard Maria mutter ‘bitch’ as she stormed passed them both slamming the door just as her father had done moments earlier. Sighing heavily, Mary wondered what was wrong with Maria these days, why she seemed to have so much contempt for her lately. What she could be so angry at her for, she had no idea. But then, looking back, just like her father, Maria had always been angry at something. Unlike Robbie, she had found Maria demanding and defiant and not so easy to like, at times, but loved her all the same. In fact she loved her with all of her heart and more, and had always done her best to make sure that Maria didn't go without. Even Pat, as mean as he was, never seemed to mind what was spent on their daughter, even if it was all for show. Every single event in young Maria’s life was highlighted. Birthdays, Christmas, Communion, anything that Maria wanted Maria got. Mary wasn’t stupid though, she knew that this had spoilt her daughter, but rather than make her happy and grateful, it seemed to make her angry and selfish, just like her father. With Maria, enough was never enough. Robbie on the other hand, unwanted since the beginning, had a kindness for her that knew no bounds. He was the only constant in her difficult life, despite having no blood ties to her whatsoever. Unlike her daughter, for which Pat had gladly proved his virility to the world, Robbie was a stain on Pat Dalton’s good name. Mary laughed when she thought about his delusional need to be seen as important man in the town. But knew what they said behind his back around here, what they really thought, most of which she agreed. Though she wasn’t stupid enough to admit it publicly as knowing Pat, he would knock her into next week if she ever opened her mouth.

‘Ma?’

Robbie interrupted her thoughts.

‘Why do you stay here?’ he asked.

‘Where else could I go, Rob?’

The apathy in her voice, heard a thousand times before, saddened him. ‘Away from here. You know I’ll be gone soon, Ma, and...’

‘I know, love, and I’ll be where I’ll always be…here.’

‘Why? You owe him nothing and don’t say it’s anything to do with Maria.’

‘It’s nothing to do with either of them. This is my home, Robbie,’ her voice took on rare sound of defiance.

‘Then you’ll have to come to London to see me, Ma. I’ll never set foot back here, not unless the fat fucker dies first.’

‘Ah, Robbie, don’t talk like that.’

‘I mean it, Ma. I owe him nothing.’

He saw the flicker of loneliness in her eyes and forced a smile to his lips. ‘Don’t worry, Ma, you know I’ll always be back to see you.’

‘Of course you will, pet…’ she returned the same broken smile, but she knew better.

Islington, London.

‘C'mon!’ Eva whispered. ‘Answer the bloody phone!’

‘Medway Travel, Martina speaking,’ a female voice sang.

‘Er…hello. How much is a flight to…’

‘To where?’

‘Cork,’ she whispered.

‘Where? I'm sorry you will have to speak up, I can't hear you.’

‘Er…Cork,’ Eva said, a little louder.

‘York?’

‘No, Cork!’ she hissed.

‘Where’s that?’

‘In Ireland,’

‘Ah, Cork.’

‘That’s what I said,’ Eva rolled her eyes.

‘When?’

‘Monday.’

‘Any particular Monday?’

‘Er, any Monday.’

‘Time?’

‘Morning.’

‘One moment please.’

Hearing the tapping of keys, Eva bit down hard on the side of her thumb, tearing at the edge of her nail. ‘Hello?’ She whispered again quietly stealing another glance through the banisters toward the door behind her. No response.

‘Righty-o,’ the Medway's girl said.

‘Hello?’

‘One moment please?’ Martina sang, while clicking, pausing and tapping her keyboard at the other end of the line.

Just tell me how much, Eva mouthed silently, sticking out her tongue at the unseeing Martina.

‘Who on earth are you talking to, Eva?’

Snapping her head up in surprise, Eva's mouth opened as her mother walked in through the front door.

‘Hope it’s not Marc. Mel will go mad if you’re winding him up again,’ her mother added.

‘It's not Marc, Mum.’

‘Give me a hand with the shopping when you’ve finished, love.’

‘Okay,’ Eva swallowed hard almost missing the voice speaking on the phone.

‘Now there’s a flight to--’

‘Is that Marc? I mean it, Eva, if that’s my Marc I swear I’ll…!’ a voice roared behind her.

‘Shit!’ Eva hissed, slamming the receiver down.

‘Bloody hell it's like Piccadilly, frigging, Circus here, and, no, it wasn’t Muppet-head,’ Eva snapped irritably jumping to her feet.

‘I’ll press redial,’ her sister warned wrapping a plastic bag around her hair.

Eva glanced at the phone nervously. ‘It wasn’t Marc,’ she feigned as much indifference as she could.

‘It was, you liar!’

‘It wasn’t!’

‘Mum!’ Mel cried.

‘It wasn’t Marc, but if it had been I would’ve told him to sod off,’ Eva snapped.

‘Just because you want to live the life of a monk, doesn’t mean I have to,’ Mel retorted.

‘Shut up and read the warning on the bag,’ Eva huffed.

Mel stopped short at the bottom stairs looking confused. ‘What warning?’ she asked.

‘You can suffocate with those things on your head.’

‘What…conditioner?’

‘How can conditioner suffocate you, stupid?’ Eva sighed.

‘Ooooh, someone’s in a mood,’ Mel taunted, following Eva into the kitchen.

Eva irritated by the interruption resigned herself to the fact that the only way she was going to book a flight without being discovered was to go and visit Medway Martina, herself.

‘Where’s your Dad?’ Anna asked.

‘Inside drooling over some travel books,’ Eva muttered scouring through the shopping bags.

‘Again?’ Anna sighed.

‘You’ll have to go with him, Mum,’ Mel added adjusting the plastic bag on top of her head.

‘It’s not that I don’t want to go, love, it’s just I don’t fancy touring across America squeezed into a pair of leathers with a crash helmet stuck on my head.’

‘Stop making such a big deal about it, Mum. I think it’s sweet, what Dad’s planning. Never took him for a Biker though.’

‘No, nor did I. Haven't ever seen a Biker with HRT patch plastered across their backside, either,’ she sighed.

‘Stick it on your arm then.’

‘That’s not the point, love.’

‘What then? The leathers…? Can’t see you and Dad actually wearing them,’ Mel sniggered.

‘Hey, I can still look good in leather,’ Anna sniffed.

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘It’s just not what I'd have planned. I wanted beaches, sunshine, walks…comfort.’

‘You can do that when you’re ninety. You’re only fifty, Mum. Live a little.’

‘So speaks the wisdom of youth.’

‘Well, I think you should go…don’t you, Eva?’ Mel said.

Eva nodded, while absently reading the back of a Bolognese jar.

‘When’s dinner ready, Mum?’ Mel headed for the door.

‘About six, love.’

‘Just going to wash this stuff out,’ she called skipping back upstairs.

‘You going out tonight, Eva?’ her mother asked.

‘Not tonight.’

‘Pasta and Bolognese alright?’

‘I’ll make it, Mum.’

‘Oh, love…would you mind? I’ve had a long day.’

‘Yeah, course I will,’ Eva smiled, glad of the chance to be left alone with her thoughts.

‘Is Dad having some?’

‘I’ll ask him,’ said Anna.

Tired and feeling slightly deflated, Anna peered into the sitting room watching Eric write furiously into a small pad on the arm of the chair, while staring intensely at an open map on the other.

Distracted by her entrance, he lifted his head and smiled. ‘Hi, love…just working out the mileage per day. I reckon we can cover at least a hundred, including eating time, we may even cross a couple of states in one day,’ he announced proudly.

‘Great,’ Anna smiled trying hard to hide her half-hearted interest.

‘We could reach L.A. by the 15th,’ Eric beamed.

‘Right,’ she humoured him with a small smile. ‘Bolognese okay, love?’ she asked.

He didn’t answer, he was back on Route 66.

‘Honestly…biking! I ask you…? It has to be a mid-life crisis,’ Anna muttered beneath her breath as she entered the kitchen and slumped down into the nearest chair.

‘You okay, Mum?’ Eva asked glancing across at her.

‘Fine, love,’ Anna sighed. Lifting her elbow onto the table, she leaned against her closed fist. Watching her daughter putting the shopping away, she could see every thought expressed openly upon her young face. So much so, that she almost knew what she was thinking, making her decision to act all the more correct. She knew for some time now that Eva had been preparing and planning, and despite trying to protect her and Eric in the process, she may as well have written her intentions on the kitchen wall in big red letters. However, Anna couldn’t let her continue to do it alone any longer. At least not without acknowledging that she knew what she was trying to do. It would be unfair on her, and on all of them, so postponing her decision a minute longer just wouldn’t be right. In the beginning, it had been so much easier to plan what, when, and how, she would say when the time came. But now that time was here, she couldn’t bear to think about it. It didn’t matter what promises she had made to herself all those years ago. What she would do next could possibly change their relationship forever. To Anna, it was as if some large intrusive clock hung over them all, ticking down the seconds before the chime.. In the early days, this moment had seemed so far off. Letting their daughters go, to search out past truths, was a natural thing and would slot neatly into place at the right time. It had seemed natural and all too easy. But now that time had finally arrived, there was no easiness about it at all. Eric had known what was ahead of them and had put into practice his own method of coping, planning their first holiday alone. It wasn’t accidental that it would coincide with what she was about to do. He knew that when this moment arrived, she would have to be occupied, distracted and more importantly, as far away from Eva as possible, if not for their daughter’s benefit, most definitely for her own. But it was no wonder she couldn’t find it in herself to think about the trip. She couldn’t have cared less about dollars, sunscreen, or motels. All she could think about was the nagging voice that echoed inside her head every day, every night, every hour. ‘Could she share Eva? Could she pretend that it didn’t matter who gave birth to her? Why then did she feel so strangely redundant? Did every adoptive mother feel like this? Was it the same? She sighed as the answers eluded her. Regardless of how she felt, she knew what she had to do and she couldn’t put it off a moment longer. At least Eric was letting her handle it her way. Not because he didn’t understand, he did, she just couldn’t quite articulate why she felt so vulnerable. She just wished for once, she was as sure as he was. As far as he was concerned their daughters loved them, and they, as adoptive parents, had done their best. Words spoken easily and with such confidence, yet she never felt more terrified in her whole life. Glancing toward her handbag, her eyes were drawn to the white envelope resting in the side pocket. She hated what was inside, terrified by the power it wielded over her. The power to frighten and consume her in the days and months ahead. But rather than let it stay there a moment longer, burning into her heart and her mind, she wanted rid of it once and for all. If only to put an end to the fear engendered by those unspoken words. ‘Eva, while we’re alone will you sit down a minute. I want a word,’ Anna said.

Snapping her head up from the carrier bags, Eva sensed her mother’s unease.

‘C'mon, love, sit down,’ Anna patted the tabletop.

Pulling out a chair Eva slowly sat, watching her mother reach for her handbag and pull out a thin white envelope.

‘This is for you, love,’ she said, sliding it across the table. ‘But before you open it, I just want you to know that you have our full support, and--’

‘What is it?’ Eva interrupted.

‘Open it.’

Eva looked at the envelope and hesitated.

‘Go on, love, it won’t bite,’ Anna prompted.

Reaching across the table Eva dragged the envelope toward her seeing no writing of any sort, no hint of what was inside. Tugging awkwardly at the paper, her eyes widened as a small green shamrock came into view. Swallowing hard, she lifted the letter close and saw that they were two return tickets to Cork. ‘Mum!’ she gasped. ‘How did you…?’

‘Find her, love. Find what you’re searching for,’ Anna blinked away the sudden flood of tears threatening to ruin her well-practiced verse. Eva sprang from her chair and wrapped both arms around her mother hugging her tightly.

‘Oh, Mum!’ Her face lit up. ‘How did you know? I’ve been trying to…’ her voice faltered.

‘I know.’

As her daughter hugged her tight, Anna closed her eyes recollecting the child she always knew would search for the truth. It was as if even as a small infant she knew that, one day, she would search out and seek the truth for herself. Nothing scared her, nothing would stop her, and Anna knew that this day would always have come. She had prepared herself for it from the moment Eva had come to them, so now it was time to trust and let go. She knew for certain, tears would be shed, the unknown would hurt like hell, and the innate fear of losing her to the woman who gave birth to her, would haunt her for many nights to come. But she knew this decision was not only the correct one, but the only one she could make.

‘I can’t believe you did this, Mum,’ Eva said, squeezing tightly.

‘It’s with our blessing, love. Just don’t think you need to do this alone.’

Clenching her jaw together Eva banished the flash of guilt from her thoughts.

‘I have only one condition, if you’re going to make this trip,’

‘Anything, Mum, what is it?’

‘Mel must go too,’ she rushed. ‘I don’t want you over there by yourself, and I’d feel much happier if the two of you were together.’

Releasing her grip, Eva stepped back from her mother feeling her initial euphoria plummet.

‘M-Mum, you know how she feels about this sort of thing,’ she stammered.

‘That’s my only condition, Love. I need to know that you’re safe over there.’

‘Mum, it's not Beirut, I can take care of myself, you know that,’ she rushed.

‘Yes, I know, but this isn’t a night up the West End either. You do realise that there are a thousand complications to this trip.’

‘And you reckon bringing Mel will make it easier?’ a look of incredulity spread across her face.

‘I’ll have a chat with her, she’ll put her own feelings aside on this once I explain it to her.’

‘Yeah right, she’ll pull every strand of hair from my head first! Seriously, Mum, you know how she feels about this.’

‘Yes, Eva, I do. But like I’ve always said, you have to respect each other's decisions.’

‘And we do, as long as it isn’t mentioned. Just because she’s adopted too, doesn’t mean we agree on this…or ever will. You know she wants nothing to do with her birth parents.’

‘She’s older now, maybe she thinks differently about it. Regardless of how she feels, I really want her to go with you.’

‘Yeah…I know,’ Eva muttered despondently.

The doubt in Eva's eyes unnerved Anna. ‘I’ll come with you then,’ she forced cheer into her words.

Panic gripped Eva as she visualized how cruel it would be on Anna to stand aside and watch her search out the woman who gave her up, without adding to the bucket-load of guilt she already carried around inside.

‘No, Mum, that wouldn’t be fair,’ Eva conceded awkwardly. An uneasy silence filled the room. ‘It’s not that I don’t want you there, Mum. It’s just…’

‘I know. And I understand,’ Anna added kindly.

‘Honestly, Mum?’

‘It’s okay, Eva…I know,’ she placated.

Hating the fleeting hint of rejection on her mother’s face, Eva knew that the only way to soothe her guilt was to accept her mother’s ultimatum. ‘Let me chat to Mel, Mum. The news will be better coming from me,’ Eva conceded, though how she was going to bring this up with Mel, she had no idea. Her memories were still crystal clear remembering the last time they talked about searching out their natural parents, the result had been vicious. She accepted that they may have been thirteen or fourteen when they fought over the issue, but they'd still come to blows. Even now, it was the last taboo in their otherwise close relationship. Mel had seen it then as she would surely see it now; a betrayal. Eva on the other hand saw it as her right to know about her past. Now, having primed both Anna and Eric gently over the course of the last year, she was back to square one, having left Mel of the equation. What frustrated her was, now having gained both parent's blessings, she was going to have to potentially ignite the smouldering flame of resentment between herself and her sister once more. And that was the last thing she needed to deal with right now. Unless… Her thoughts took seed. ‘Does Dad know about this?’ she waved the envelope.

‘Of course. He’s known for a long time.’

‘Am I really that transparent?’ she laughed uneasily.

The corner of Anna’s mouth raised slightly ‘Yes, love…you’re our Eva.’

***

Pulling up the handbrake he gazed up at the moss-stained gable and smiled, he never once tired of looking over the old house. It may have looked to be dying on its very foundations, but that didn’t matter, he knew a gem when he saw it. In fact it was its aging facade that had endeared him in the first place, that and what it meant to own the key to this place. It meant Mia, and him, and their new baby on the way. As he climbed out from the car, he looked over at the garden now blossoming to full bloom brightening against the peeling eves and rusted drain pipes. He could only smile at Mia’s touch, transforming everything to beauty around her. Now if they could only agree on a name, then at least he could call it something other than the old magistrates place. Twisting his key in the lock, the smell of a roast teased the hunger in his stomach as he followed his nose through to the kitchen.

‘Hi, Ol. Dinner’s nearly ready,’ she called out anticipating his touch.

Crossing the kitchen, he circled his arms tightly around her waist and drew her close against him. ‘Mmm, you smell good,’ he said, closing his eyes, kissing the side of her face softly.

‘How good?’

He pressed his lips against the nape of her neck caressing soft skin with light kisses.

‘Oi, I’m for dessert,’ she laughed.

‘I could do with an hors-d'oeuvre.'

‘The lamb will burn.’

‘Not if the oven is turned off.’

‘Aren’t you hungry?’

‘Yeah.’

‘For food, I mean,’ she added, swatting him with the oven mitt. Had it been any other day she would have switched off the oven, shed him of his clothes right there and then, and explored the want in both of them. But today, Doc’s words had thrown her off. His subtle warning about being totally honest with Oliver disturbed her, not because he was one of the few opinions she trusted, but because it had picked the scab on a deep sense of guilt she thought was long dead and buried. She had no desire to unburden all of her past onto Oliver, the man who had traversed the minefield of mistrust and suspicion she was consumed by, replacing it gradually with loyalty and love. Love that she could hardly have imagined existed, let alone be on the receiving end of. If only she had told Oliver in the beginning, back when she couldn’t have cared less what he thought, but she had chosen not to. Deep down she suspected that he might have cared a little too much and as well as that she knew that relationships were often far too fragile for absolute truths. She knew that to tell him of her past now would ruin the very path she had fought so hard to tread. She didn’t so much fear his judgement, she knew she had married a man worth more than that. She just didn’t want to share the ugliness of those years with him, as if somehow it would taint, stain even, what they now had. Content and fulfilled, she reckoned her history should remain just that. She had promised herself since returning home that she needed this time with a man she loved and a pregnancy that would heal. So what was there to gain by telling him about past lives? Did he really need to know how her days tripped into night without any sense of time or reality? The poisons she ingested, the junk she shoved into her veins. And the men, the many-many, men who bought her for the price of a pack of cigarettes. Did he need to know when that nightmare finally engulfed her? No. So she felt no need to tell him. And despite the times when her ambiguity sparked his curiosity about those lost years, her economical truths were remarkably consistent. So, as far as Oliver was concerned, she had spent her youth in a wild wilderness, a girl that was just out to have some fun. If there had been any fun, I certainly never experienced any of it, she thought bitterly.

‘No dessert then?’ Oliver prompted, snapping her back from the past.

‘Later. Besides, best way to a man’s heart is…?’

‘Besides food, you mean?’

‘Lamb….my lamb.’

‘Mia?’

‘Hmmm?’

‘I love you.’ he said, turning her around. He pulled her close and bent down to kiss her mouth.

For Mia, an exquisite moment of ultimate contentment warmed through her. Emotions so new, so good, and so fought for, she knew she had the answer to what disturbed her all day. Why on earth would she want to ruin all of this in the name of unnecessary truths. She could live with the discomfort of guilt, couldn’t she? Besides, hadn’t her silence rewarded her with what she had now? Reaching behind, she turned down the oven dial.

‘How about that hors-d'oeuvre, then?’ she smiled up at him. Closing his eyes he lowered his lips to her mouth again touching her with such tenderness that her anxiety finally slipped away. Doc has gotten it wrong this time, she thought as Oliver caressed her mouth with his. There was nothing that would let her ruin what she had right now, nothing, not the truth, nor the past, she had far too much to lose.

Chapter 2

One Month later

‘Ireland,’ Mel groaned. ‘I still can’t believe I’m going to Ireland. When you said you’d won a trip I thought Ibiza, or Majorca…or Paris, but oh-no, Eva had to go and bloody well win a trip to Ireland!’

‘Stop bitching it’s a holiday, isn’t it? And it’s free, I might add.’

‘Probably free because they couldn’t give it away. Ireland! It's all Terry Wogan and what’s his name…?’

‘Who?’

‘You know.’

‘Who?’ Eva snapped irritably.

‘Roger Whitaker.’

‘Who?’

‘Y’know, the stuff Gran plays.’

‘He’s not Irish, you’re thinking of Val…what’s-his-face.’

‘Same thing isn’t it?’ she moaned.

‘No.’

‘You know the girls at Shake’s think I’m suffering from some form of dementia.’

‘I’d be surprised if they could even spell it,’ Eva rolled her eyes.

‘You don’t know them like I do, just because they…’

Eva stared blindly out the small cabin window letting her thoughts drown out Mel’s whining as the plane cut through the clouds over West London.

Wonder if I’ll find her…and supposing I do, what then? What do I say?

Hi, I’m Eva. Though she wouldn’t know me by that name. Hi. You don’t know me, but I used to be Firinne, Shit! I should bloody well know what to say by now. Maybe Mum was right, maybe I should have checked this out a bit more. Re-searched it better. But with what? No last known address, no contact number, nothing. All they could tell me was where she was from. Nothing else on file. A mystery woman, is Mia. What are the chances of her being there, I wonder? Someone must know her or heard of her? One way or another I know I’m going to find her. Strange why she never looked for me, though?

‘Marc was worried about me going, you know? He reckons it could be dangerous.’

‘Yeah…?’

‘You’re not listening to me, are you?’

She could be dead for all I know.

‘If I get shot or blown up, you can explain it to him,’ Mel sniffed.

Poor Mum and Dad…hopefully they won’t hate me for this. Talk about feeling like a complete bitch sitting there in front of them, discussing her. One birth cert…one lousy note…one birthday card…and one tiny photo with her holding me. It's not much. It’ll have to do, I suppose. Could be worse, could have sod-all to go on. Wonder if her hair is red like in her picture?

‘Didn’t know what to pack, apparently it pisses rain there all the time,’ Mel muttered.

She could be bald…

‘Eva are you listening?’

Mia O’Halloran. At least the name’s unusual. Mia... Doesn’t sound Irish, wonder if it's short for something?

‘Couldn’t even buy bloody duty free. Marc wanted me to bring back some Jack Daniel’s and some aftershave. That’ll take a chunk out of my money and by the way, have you seen their money? It’s huge...like toy money,’ Mel inspected the fifty pound note in her hand.

‘Hmm…’

Wonder if she looks like me? Mum said kind of, but they only met twice. Mum said Mia didn’t find it easy to cope. No money, no family and no one to support her. I’ve been lucky really, but it could have so easily turned out differently…and where would Mia have been then?

‘How long is it from the airport to the hotel?’

I’m no mum but there’s no way I could give up like that, no matter how hard it was. I mean, look at Mum, look what she’s like. She has a freak attack if we’re a minute late. We’ve been abducted, raped and murdered, or kidnapped by some religious cult. That’s what I can’t get my head around. Don’t know if I agree with all that shit about 'no money' either.

Her mouth twitched.

So, why was it so easy to give up on me, Mia? Too much hassle probably. Mum and Dad can soften the blow all they like, but let's face it…I was just a living, breathing, burden.

‘Are you going to talk to me, Eva? Maybe you should’ve gone alone.’

Turning toward her sister, Eva sighed. How am I going to tell Mel the truth? She still thinks I won this trip in a raffle. Unusual for a girl who could normally spot a lie from a mile away. Mum knows I lied to Mel, but she’s just as happy that I’m not going alone. Mind you she nearly let it slip at the airport.

‘Be there for Eva, Mel, okay?’

‘Eh?’

‘Just understand her reasons for doing this, okay?’

‘Eh?’

If I hadn’t grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the boarding check-in counter, it doesn’t bear thinking about what Mel would’ve done if she'd found out before she was on the plane. I couldn’t even look back at Mum as we ran through the Gates, I know what I would’ve seen, if I had. God, I'm a bitch! Well…maybe I’m more like Mia than I realise. Stop it, Eva….stop it!

‘Well…?’

‘What?’

‘Knew you weren’t listening.’

‘What?’

‘How far is the hotel from the airport?’ she huffed.

‘Couple of miles, I think.’