Page 38 of The Twins
After plonking all of the ingredients on the counter, I started cooking.
Finn wandered in wearing a serious expression. “He got in through your bedroom window.”
“What?” My eyes widened. “How do you know?”
“It’s open, you must have forgotten to shut it when you went out on Friday, and it’s got a trellis on the outside, with a step up onto it from your neighbor’s shed.
“Bloody hell. I’d never even thought of that, it’s like a ladder.”
“Exactly.” He held up a few leaves. “And these were on the floor. He must have gathered some foliage from that wisteria along his way.”
“Well, at least we know now.” I looked around the kitchen and into the living area. “And he wasn’t here. In this bit of the house.”
“No, I don’t reckon so.” Cillian stepped into the room and up to the counter. He shook the milk. “And now you know to keep that window shut.”
“Yes.” I eyed up the wine. “I know it’s early but I might have a glass.”
“Never too early.” Finn reached for the wine and then grabbed the bottle opener out of a utensil stand.
Cillian poured two tall glasses of milk, gave one to Finn and then passed me some wine. I didn’t feel guilty. It was a strange kind of a day.
Soon the kitchen was full of fragrance as the meal cooked. Finn told me stories from their childhood in County Wicklow. It seemed pranks that tormented the villagers were their main source of entertainment, and they had me laughing until I was breathless.
“This is amazing,” Cillian said, digging into his food. “Better than any Italian restaurant makes it.”
“I’m pleased you like it.” I got stuck into my favorite comfort meal. “It’s my mother’s recipe, she’s a great cook.”
“Do you see her much?” Finn asked.
“No, after her and Dad’s divorce she remarried, an Australian. She lives in Perth now.”
“Wow, long way off.”
“I try and go once a year, have at least three weeks there. It’s a nice part of the world, I don’t blame her for going.”
“And your father?” Finn asked.
“I lost him, about five years ago. Cancer.” I took a slug of wine.
“I’m sorry,” Finn said.
“Yeah, that’s rough.” Cillian downturned his mouth and frowned. “Hard to loose your pa.”
“It was.”
Finn poured wine for him and Cillian then added more Parmesan to his meal.
“You’re not training at the gym today?” I asked.
“No, rare day off.” Cillian grinned and reached for garlic bread. “But we’ll make up for it tomorrow.”
“Come with us, tomorrow,” Finn said. “We can show you around the gym.”
“I’d like that…on one condition.”
“Go on?” Cillian paused, his fork halfway to his mouth.
“You don’t expect me to work out, that’s not my thing, not at all.”
