Grown Ups

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Grown Ups Page 7

by Marian Keyes


  ‘I guess. By marriage.’

  ‘If Johnny was my dad. Which he’s not.’ He flashed a nervous smile. ‘So, Nell, this is Barty, my cousin. He’s my dad – you know, my dead dad’s sister’s son. Keeva’s son.’

  ‘Got it.’

  ‘You’re quick.’ Barty gazed in open admiration.

  ‘Over here.’ Nell strode to the car. The boys threw their bags into the boot, Barty jumped into the passenger seat and Nell reversed out in a smooth curve.

  Don’t say anything, Ferdia thought. But – of course – Barty piped up, ‘You drive like a boss.’

  Cringe. Nell was old. And married to his step-uncle. No way should Barty be … whatever he was doing. Hitting on her?

  ‘Should be a good weekend.’ Barty was being such a dick. A jaunty dick. ‘Looking forward to it.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Ferdia said. ‘But Mum would tear me a new one if I bailed.’

  ‘I get it,’ Nell said. ‘You’re a grown-up, you don’t want to do kids’ stuff.’

  Wait! What, was she … patronizing him? Stung, he needed a moment. ‘It’s nothing to do with going on an Easter-egg hunt. I don’t want to be here because I don’t approve.’

  Nell said nothing, so he told her anyway. ‘All that money. It’s wrong. Every one of us has a roof over our head.’

  ‘Ferd,’ Barty muttered.

  ‘Yet we’re spending money – okay, not me, I admit – to stay under another roof while there’s a housing crisis in this country.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Her eyes met his in the rear-view.

  ‘You don’t agree?’

  ‘Ferdia, here’s the sitch: when your sister-in-law takes you away for an all-expenses-paid weekend, her son throws shade and wants you to pile on?’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Awkward.’

  ‘So? With four nights’ bed and breakfast, and as much chocolate as you can eat, she bought your complicity. Okaaaay.’

  Their eyes met once again, hers blank, his fierce, and the rest of the short journey passed in silence.

  Ferdia’s hopes were to avoid his family for as long as possible. But Jessie and Johnny were milling about in the lobby with the four kids, obviously just back from an outing.

  ‘Perfect timing,’ Saoirse called.

  Jessie lit up. ‘Bunny, you’re here!’ She grabbed him in a hug.

  ‘Mum, don’t call me that.’ He was embarrassed that Nell was hearing this.

  ‘You’ll always be my bunny. Bunny number one.’ She smiled at his jacket, his hat, his heavy boots. ‘You look like you’re off to the waterfront to unload cargo from a ship.

  ‘And so do you, love.’ Jessie had moved on to Barty. ‘Thank you for coming. We’re all so happy you’re here.’ Next she hugged Nell. ‘Thank you for picking them up.’

  Dilly flung herself at Ferdia and he lifted her into his arms. ‘Hello, missus!’

  ‘We went on a jaunting car! Daddy hated it!’

  ‘Daddy did hate it,’ Johnny said.

  ‘He said it was the worst day of his life.’ TJ leant against Ferdia.

  ‘It was cold,’ Bridey said. ‘And soooooo boring.’

  ‘Any safety lapses to report?’ Ferdia asked.

  ‘No seatbelts in the jaunting car. But,’ Bridey conceded, ‘we weren’t going fast enough to do any real damage.’

  ‘That’s what I like about you, Bridey, you’re fair. She calls it as she sees it but gives credit when it’s due.’

  Bridey pinkened. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Nice work, “missing” yesterday’s train,’ Johnny said. ‘You were spared the day from Hell.’

  ‘Ah, stop.’ Jessie was laughing. ‘It wasn’t so bad – and what’s that they say about life? We only regret the things we don’t do.’

  Ferdia noticed Nell hovering awkwardly on the edge of the group, excluded from their well-worn familiarity. Just leave, he thought. What are you waiting for?

  Jessie clasped Nell around her waist. ‘Look how handsome Ferdia is. Once he fills out, he’ll be lethal. And isn’t his little beard lovely?’

  ‘Mum.’ Ferdia didn’t know who was more embarrassed, him or Nell.

  ‘Speaking of which, Mr Lethal,’ Saoirse said, ‘your girlfriend is here.’

  Sammie was here? His heart leapt. Had she decided they weren’t breaking up after all? But how did she get here before he had?

  ‘The fake-ass one from last year,’ Saoirse said. ‘With the bougie accent.’

  Ferdia looked at Barty and together they said, ‘Phoebe?’

  Phoebe had been both the high and low spots of last Easter. She’d been in the thick of a big family group. A few years older than the other kids with her, she was obviously at the hotel under sufferance, just like Ferdia.

  At the family dinner on the first evening, she was at a similarly long, rowdy table. She looked up, did a second take, and held Ferdia’s stare long enough to make her intentions clear. An hour later, when he was taking Dilly to the movie at the kids’ club, Phoebe was removing a small boy, who was wailing his head off. Another long, loaded look was shared.

  Ferdia and Sammie were on yet another of their breaks so, heartsore and defiant, he’d decided he might as well salve his wounds with this girl. Her name had been easy to find out – you had only to listen to what her sisters were calling her. And, yeah, her accent, as she answered them, was slightly affected. But she was cute, with long russet-coloured hair, bold brown eyes and, as Barty kept saying, ‘A rocking bod.’

  After bribing TJ to ask one of the younger members of Phoebe’s group their surname, Ferdia found her on Instagram. But the account was private. Nor could he find her on Snapchat, not without her username.

  He requested a follow on Instagram, but despite the electricity that snapped between them, nothing happened.

  ‘Maybe she’ll show up later at the boat-house.’

  It was traditionally the place where teenagers congregated for furtive late-night drinking sessions. Ferdia and Barty had emptied their mini-bar of alcohol and taken it to the lake. Though they’d stayed there until 2 a.m., smoking joints and talking shite, she didn’t appear.

  The next day Ferdia was glued to his phone, moving around to make sure he had a signal. But even though Phoebe smouldered at him in real life, across the lobby and again in the swimming pool, there was no response to his follow request.

  It took until Easter Saturday night, before it clicked. ‘She hasn’t got a phone!’

  ‘You be high.’

  ‘Serious. I’ve never seen her looking at her phone. She hasn’t got one.’

  Barty was astounded. ‘What are they? Amish?’

  ‘Doing exams soon.’

  In the weeks before the Leaving Cert, parents frequently deprived their children of their phones to keep their minds focused.

  ‘That’s why she hasn’t shown up at the boat-house. She’s under curfew.’

  ‘So how are you going to meet her?’ Barty asked. ‘Send a raven? Get Saoirse to befriend her? Some girly thing? They could talk about periods and stuff.’

  ‘Me?’ Saoirse’s voice wobbled. ‘You ignore me all weekend to stalk that bougie ho –’

  ‘Don’t call her a ho.’

  ‘– and now you want me to be your pimp?’ She sounded like she might cry. ‘Dream on, assholes.’

  After an uncomfortable silence, Ferdia said, ‘Saoirsh. Sorry. I, ah, yeah, eye off the ball. Forgot about you. A bit. Sorry.’

  ‘You think I want to be here? Watching Frozen twenty times? Sharing a room with Bridey? Do you know? I haven’t had one drink since we got here and I’m sixteen.’

  ‘Our bad.’ Barty and Ferdia were full of remorse. ‘Totally, like.’

  ELEVEN

  A bit shook, Nell let herself into her room. Liam was stretched out on the bed, listening to something on his phone.

  ‘They were actually on the train?’ He took off his headphones. ‘Thank Christ. I think poor Jessie would have driven back to Dublin and physically bundled Ferdia into the car if he hadn’t come.


  ‘He’s here now.’ She unlaced her Converse and kicked them off. ‘Listen, what’s Ferdia’s deal? He was very judgey. About us being here when there’s a housing crisis. I was dying.’

  ‘What d’he say?’

  She stopped. Bad idea, bitching, especially about family. ‘No, forget it. It was just a surprise. He’s been grand the other times I’ve met him.’

  Although when had that been? Jessie’s New Year’s Eve piss-up? The St Patrick’s Day party? Where there had been so many rowdy people that she and Ferdia had barely said hello.

  ‘He’s an eejit,’ Liam declared. ‘Spoilt little fucker. And Barty’s worse. I think Barty’s an actual card-carrying cretin.’

  ‘Liam.’ She gave a guilty laugh. ‘You can’t say that word.’

  ‘But he is. And a total mini-Ferdia. Every time Ferdia gets new ink or a new anything, Barty copies him. Check out the rings they both wear.’

  Her phone buzzed. ‘Oh! Email,’ she said. ‘Oh! Liam, it’s …’ Quickly, she scanned it and turned a wide-eyed face to him. ‘Liam, I got it! The gig! The show at the Playhouse.’

  ‘Oh? The one about time?’

  ‘Timer. Yeah.’

  ‘Wow.’ He seemed stunned. ‘That’s – that’s amazing. How much money?’

  ‘Feck-all. But I don’t care. This is my first time being head designer. They trust me, Liam! They liked my ideas! We must celebrate. How long before dinner?’

  ‘About an hour.’

  ‘Just long enough.’ Looking him dead in the eye, she unzipped her boiler-suit a couple of inches.

  His whole demeanour changed, becoming still and alert. ‘Like that, is it?’

  ‘Totally like that.’

  With supple grace, he unfolded himself from the bed, crossed the room and wrapped his hands around her waist. Softly he said, ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hello.’

  He cupped his hands around her face. ‘You are so, so beautiful.’ Her hands fumbled open his jeans and they steered their way to the bed …

  Their doorbell buzzed frantically, accompanied by open-handed slaps on the wood. ‘Open up, open up!’ girls’ voices commanded.

  ‘What the hell?’

  ‘Ignore them,’ Nell begged.

  ‘We know you’re in there!’ The ringing and slapping continued.

  Wide-eyed, they stared at each other, as the mood trickled away.

  ‘You’ll want to see this!’ someone – probably TJ – yelled.

  Admitting defeat, Nell leant her forehead against Liam’s. ‘Later? You decent?’

  ‘Just about.’

  As soon as she opened the door, the ball of energy that was Dilly, TJ and Bridey hurtled towards her. ‘Nell, come quickly! You too, Liam, if you want. We’re spying on Ferdia’s new girlfriend. The one from last year. She’s out on her balcony!’

  ‘Wait for me.’ Liam tugged his T-shirt down over his jeans.

  Bridey looked scandalized. ‘Were you two …? That’s disgusting! Wash your hands.’

  ‘There’s no time!’ Dilly was about to explode with impatience.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Nell asked.

  ‘Mum’s room,’ Bridey said. ‘Ferdia came up to borrow a charger –’

  ‘– because,’ TJ interjected, ‘he’d forget his arse if it wasn’t stapled to him.’

  ‘His mind is on higher things!’ Dilly was shrill. ‘That boy is a genius. Saoirse came too.’ They’d arrived at Jessie’s suite. ‘Then she saw the bougie ho on her balcony.’

  Saoirse greeted them at the door. ‘She’s still out there!’

  Nell hurried in after the three kids and Liam.

  ‘So this is some girl from last year?’ Liam lunged for Jessie and Johnny’s balcony.

  ‘Hold on!’ Ferdia grabbed him. ‘Be cool about this. You and me,’ Ferdia took Liam by the shoulders, ‘we step onto the balcony, real casual, like. Then look over at the rooms at right-angles to ours. One floor below. Act, like, relaxed.’

  ‘But Nell’s the one we went to get!’

  Ferdia turned, in annoyance. ‘Why don’t we all go out for a gawk?’

  Three young women, in bathrobes and sunglasses, were lounging on a balcony. One was painting her toenails and the other two were on their screens. Short comments were being exchanged.

  ‘Which one?’ Liam asked.

  ‘The middle one.’

  Even from a distance, Phoebe was the obvious alpha. Nell focused on her some more and, as if suddenly aware of the scrutiny, the girl looked up.

  She lowered her sunglasses, saw Ferdia, stared long and hard, then abruptly flicked her sunglasses back into place and turned away.

  Blushing furiously, Ferdia retreated into the room. ‘Thanks a million, Nell. That was fucking embarrassing. You couldn’t have been more obvious if you’d tried.’

  ‘Hey!’ Liam said.

  Ferdia glared at Liam, then at Nell, then at Jessie. ‘Fuck this shit,’ he declared, and stalked from the suite, banging the door behind him.

  Nell was mortified. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘No, no, you did nothing wrong,’ said Jessie.

  ‘We should just …’ Liam said, leading Nell to the door. ‘We’ll see you at dinner.’

  ‘Thirty minutes.’ Jessie’s voice was shaky.

  Out in the corridor, Nell said, ‘Liam, baby, I’m really sorry.’

  ‘Not your fault that Ferdia’s a spoilt prick.’

  Johnny fumed quietly. Fecking Ferdia. At the hotel for less than an hour and already he’d upset Jessie and Dilly. And Nell. He’d better turn up to dinner.

  And what was he up to with this balcony girl? He already had a girlfriend! Everyone liked Sammie. She looked unapproachable, with her heavy boots and shorn hair, but she was very pleasant.

  Herself and Ferdia were probably on another of their breaks. The pair of them carried on like Burton and Taylor: big emotional shouting matches down in Ferdia’s flat that could be heard clearly up in the house, followed a few days later by a loved-up reunion. It had been entertaining for several months, but now even Johnny was worn out by it.

  Several subdued minutes later, Jessie said, ‘Okay, gang, we’ll go down now.’

  ‘There’s something I need to do,’ Johnny said. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’

  Jessie was too downcast to ask what the ‘something’ was. Which was just as well, because he wanted a quick look at the comments beneath the profile on Jessie. Simply keeping an eye on how bad they were.

  Red Blooded Male

  ‘JESSIE PARNELLS A BALLBREAKING MANH8R’

  Bring Back Hanging

  ‘Over-priced shite for the sheeple in Dublin 4.’

  Justice For Men

  ‘Whippet thin? Shes bleeden huge.’

  Fat Attack

  ‘All the same, I would.’

  Justice for Men

  ‘Youd get up on a cracked plate shes a MINGER a right auld DOG’

  Dublin Massive

  ‘how she getting them chefs to Dublin? servicing them?’

  Fat Attack

  ‘I’d take a servicing from her.’

  Justice for Men

  ‘Cracked plate my friend. For his sake I hope that husband of hers is getting it somewhere else.’

  Red Blooded Male

  ‘COURSE HE IS ONLY HAVE 2 LOOK AT THE FLASH FUCK 2 NO HES GOT A FEW BIRDS STASHED AWAY PROBABLY WORKING FOR HIM BE A FUCKING FOOL NOT 2’

  Death to Feminazis

  ‘Rumours he’s a bit of a shagger. Don’t fucking blame him. She’d have your balls on a plate, that one.’

  Mighty White

  ‘She promotes Islam’

  Fat Attack

  ‘Didn’t no that’

  Mighty White

  ‘Selling halal food. And there filthy spices. If they couldnt bye there filthy food in Ireland, they’d hafta fuck off back home to towel-headStan.’

  Paddy Flys Away

  ‘I met her once. She was over-nice. Fake.’

  Johnny ex
haled. Just the usual bile. He’d told Jessie never to read these and she said she didn’t, but who knew?

  Ferdia had stomped back to his room and raged at Barty for several minutes about Nell making a show of him.

  ‘But you know your family,’ Barty had said. ‘They’d have kept going out and staring like mentallers until Phoebe noticed.’

  ‘I just feel morto that she saw me standing there, with tons of other people, like a stalker weirdo.’

  ‘Did plenty of staring of her own last year. And, hey, least now she knows you’re here. Has she a phone this time?’

  ‘She does. I saw it.’ He drummed his fingers against his lips. His embarrassed fury was dissolving.

  ‘I sorta feel bad now about blowing up at Nell. She wasn’t deliberately … I don’t think she was trying to mess things up.’

  ‘Yeh, look. You were a bit rough on her in the car too. You’re all riled up about the housing stuff, but it’s not her fault.’

  Nell had got him at a bad time. It really bothered him that his mum was spending all this money when kids were literally sleeping on floors.

  ‘Who knows?’ Barty said. ‘Maybe Nell doesn’t even want to be here.’

  ‘Maybe. I could, I dunno … say sorry to her?’

  Ferdia never apologized to adults – well he never apologized to Jessie or Johnny. They already controlled so much that he couldn’t surrender any more of himself. But Nell wasn’t really an adult. Or maybe she wasn’t really a member of the family. ‘What if she tells me to piss off?’

  ‘She won’t. She’s lovely.’

  ‘Ha-ha-ha. You fool. Just because you fancy her. Okay. It’s time. Let’s go.’

  In the restaurant, the others were already there. Before he lost his nerve, Ferdia went directly to Nell. ‘May I speak with you? I apologize. For swearing. And blaming you. I was just embarrassed.’

  She smiled. ‘That’s okay, Ferdia.’

  His relief felt like sunlight. ‘And for being narky in the car. Sorry about that too.’

  ‘It never happened.’

  ‘So we’re good?’

  ‘We’re good.’

  Turning to sit down, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He took a look. It was a follow request from Phoebe.

  ‘Bart!’ He showed him the screen. ‘This thing is on.’

 

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