Page 26 of Calling Frank O'Hare

‘Will you be wanting a cup of tea, Gerry?’ said Ma, still looking like she had a bad case of trapped wind.

‘That’d be grand, love. And have we any of those chocolate biscuits left?’

‘We have,’ she almost sobbed. ‘I’ll bring you a couple up. Away you go.’

Da went off to paint his wee pictures. As a younger man, he’d been a master at the decorating. When Siobhan and Dermot got married, they’d bought a shithole of an old house because it was all they could afford. By the time Da had given it his magic touch, it was like a show home. The first time she saw it, Siobhan cried. The love he’d poured into that house just broke her heart. Da didn’t do kisses and hugs. He showed he cared in other ways.

She’d worked out long ago that the decorating had been his escape. It kept him going through the Troubles and every other disaster that had come their way. When the decorating got too much for him, he’d scaled down. Nowadays, he hid himself away in Siobhan’s old room and got lost in his watercolours. Although he had less to escape from, as far as she knew.

A future scene flashed before her. Da, not long buried and her having to go through all those paintings of his, deciding which to let go of. And of course it would be her. It was always her. She felt an ache that had nothing to do with Glenda. Her parents weren’t getting any younger, but then none of them were. She was too old to be running around after her brothers. It was about time she had a life that didn’t involve cleaning up other people’s messes.

‘What’s wrong with you? You look like the Hunchback of Notre Dame,’ said Ma.

‘I had a massage from Glenda.’

Ma did a sharp intake of breath.

Siobhan put her hand up. ‘I know, I know. Shayne suggested it and I’d already upset him once so I couldn’t refuse.’

Ma tutted. ‘You know your trouble? You don’t know how to say no.’

Siobhan dropped her bags on the kitchen worktop, took a ready meal lasagne out of one of them and stuck it in the oven.

Before she’d finished putting the rest of her shopping away, Ma was on the phone again. ‘I’m awful worried, Siobhan. Do you think they’ll be all right? Martin’s not the big man he pretends to be. And Frank’s not been right in years. Not since Ellen. Then there’s poor wee Finn. He’s never had any luck.’

It was on the tip of Siobhan’s tongue to ask what about me? What have I had? But she stopped herself. The words would only have fallen on stony ground. Ma would have said she had a good job, three great kids, and if she’d worked harder at it, she could still have a husband. That was all very well but she hated her job, her kids were long gone into the world, and maybe if Ma looked at how hard Dermot had worked at their marriage, she’d see exactly why Siobhan no longer had a husband.

‘It’s only Scotland. It’s hardly an expedition to the Antarctic, and they’re grown men, Ma. They’ll be fine. I’ll try calling them again.’

It took half an hour to talk Ma down, by which time the lasagne was more than a bit crispy around the edges. Siobhan stuck it on a tray, poured herself a large glass of wine and went into the living room to catch up on the soaps.

‘Don’t fall for it, love. He’ll just impregnate you and go off to the pub while you’re up to your neck in shitty nappies.’ She was shouting at the TV again. She’d been doing this a lot lately. She’d have to stop watching all this rubbish romantic shite. It wasn’t doing her any good. She poured the dregs from the wine bottle into the glass. Getting drunk on her own was another thing that needed to stop.

She turned the sound down and tried Frank again. No answer. A call to Finn was just as fruitless. Siobhan knew it would be. She knew they were avoiding her, otherwise why phone the parents and not her? Road trip, her arse. Well, if they wouldn’t speak to her, she’d let them know exactly what she thought of their pathetic little trip. She tapped out a message and sent it to both of them. She’d have sent it to Martin too if she knew the selfish fecker’s new number.

18

The hardship of loss

Frank let Siobhan’s call ring out. A minute after it stopped, Finn’s phone started up.

‘Don’t answer it,’ said Martin. ‘She’ll only be having a rant.’

Finn’s hand hovered over his phone. ‘That’s not very fair though, is it? She’s got a lot on her plate.’

‘Well on your head be it. That’s all I’m saying,’ said Martin. ‘We’ve had a nice day, but if you want to spoil it, go ahead.’

Ithadbeen a nice day, even though they’d only been to the shops and stocked up on provisions and, in Frank’s case, extra clothing. For dinner, they were treating themselves to fish and chips by the harbour.

‘You know she’s a HR manager now?’ said Martin. ‘Siobhan, a HR manager. Can you imagine anyone less suited to the job?’

‘Ah come on now, Marty. That’s enough.’ Finn’s hand continued to hover until the ringing stopped, then he went back to eating his fish and chips.

‘Let’s find a pub after this to christen our road trip,’ said Martin.

‘Okay, so long as we don’t go as mad as last night,’ said Frank.

Finn’s phone pinged. A few seconds later, Frank’s did the same. Finn read his message and winced. ‘She’s not happy.’

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