Page 61 of Something Borrowed

My mum says, “I still shudder when I think of that night. What could have happened doesn’t bear thinking about.”

I nod at her reference to a specific night that summer—one that our family had long since referred to as Fight Night. My mum had gone next door to take Raff’s school coat to him after he left our house without it. She’d found Rollo fucking a woman in the hallway and a naked Saoirse passed out on the sofa—a line of coke on the table and a cigarette smouldering in her hand. Raff had been trying to cook in the kitchen. Fortunately, my mum arrived before he’d put a tin of baked beans in the microwave.

“Terrible,” my dad says from nearby. He’s obviously taken advantage of my mum’s distraction to leave the washing up and circle back to the dining room. “Saoirse and Rollo shouldn’t have been allowed to raise budgies, let alone a small child.”

My mum makes a huffing noise. “They should be ashamed of themselves, but that would require a modicum of a conscience inthe first place. I still think she holds that night against me,” she muses.

I snort. “Why? Raff preferred to be here for good reason. It’s not like you stole him.”

“No. Because the ice bucket of water I flung at her ruined her hairdo and new sofa.” She tuts. “Anyway, Saoirse and I came to an arrangement.”

I frown in her direction. “What? I’ve never heard that before.”

“Did you never wonder why Raff had his own room here. And why he came away with us, even when I was on set?”

I shrug. “I just thought Saoirse found it easier.”

“You can put it that way. She found it easier to keep her teeth. I told her that if Ieverfound Raff in those circumstances again, I’d punch her until I got tired—which would take a while as I had a lot of aggression to work off—and then I’d report her to the police.”

I gasp. “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you report her straightaway?”

“It was different then. Besides, Saoirse and Rollo don’t have any extended family. Raff would have been taken into care, and we’d probably have lost him, and who knows what would have happened to him? It was the best compromise your dad and I could think of. We insisted they employ a professional live-in nanny who’d look after Raff at home, and he liked her.”

“Nanny Sally. He still sees her. Does he know about this?”

“We thought it better not to tell him. They’re still his parents, and they did try with him after that. They cleaned up their act a bit, and Sally kept a firm eye on everything. There was an understanding that Raff would come to us for meals because Saoirse doesn’t eat and definitely doesn’t cook, and when she got bored with her version of mothering, she’d send him straight over to me. We kept a very close eye on them, but it worked.Hence, why she doesn’t like me. Saoirse doesn’t like a mirror being held up to her unless it’s to check her appearance.”

“Well, she never shows it,” my dad says.

“Are you actually washing up or just listening to us?” my mum asks.

“You’re much more interesting than the dirty pots.”

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. Once, I told you that your eyes were as blue as the urinal cakes in the gent’s toilet.”

“Be still, my heart,” my mum mutters.

“Haveyouseen Saoirse and Rollo lately?” I ask, taking another sip of my wine.

They’d divorced after a few turbulent years, and Saoirse had gotten the house, which is probably lucky because my mum obviously had no intention of letting Raff leave with her and her next toyboy husband. If they'd tried to leave, I wouldn’t have put it past my mum to lie across the drive.

“We had dinner with Rollo last week,” my mum says.

“How is he?”

“Loud. I’ve never known there are twenty different ways you can tell someone you’re richer than them,” my dad says, and I snort.

“Only twenty? He’s slipping. God knows how Raff turned out so well.”

“He’s a wonderful young man, but I still think he carries the baggage,” my mum says thoughtfully. “He learned some incredibly wrong things from the two of them, not least of which is he views commitment with as much horror as getting syphilis.”

I tap my fingers on the table. “Well, that can’t be helped. He’ll never change.”

“Really?” my dad says. He sounds surprised. “I think he’ll change for his person. He just needs to be shown thatcommitment to one person doesn’t automatically equate to an orgy on the soft furnishings.”

I clear my throat. “And just who could be Raff’s person? He views monogamy as akin to death.”

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