Page 41 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
Mary could hear Conor yelling from the bottom of the stairs, urging her to hurry up or the girls would be late for their school disco. She rolled her eyes. Conor – without the need to clean up after the kids, iron clothes for two lazy teens, pacify a five-year-old, and stop Finn from banging his football against the patio windows – had taken a leisurely shower, dressed, and had time to sip a cold beer.
‘Coming!’ Mary called out and picked up her bag to hurry from the room. ‘So much for joint parenting…’she muttered to herself.
Finn and Declan were curled up in front of the TV in the playroom with their babysitter, munching on biscuits and sweets, when Mary finally left the house to drop Maeve and Caitlin off at the school disco, with Conor in the passenger seat.
‘The car looks spotless.’ Conor observed as he strapped himself in. ‘You’ve been busy.’
‘There was an incident with Finn’s football kit earlier,’ Mary replied as she drove off the driveway. ‘You know how wet it’s been all week, and Finn was covered in mud.’
For some reason, Mary felt reluctant to tell Conor that Ruari had been round like a shot when he’d received her call. There was something wild yet attractive about theman, with his shoulder-length curls, strong shoulders, and the fluid grace of his body as he moved. Leaning into the vehicle’s interior, the fabric of his T-shirt emphasised his toned torso, and in Mary’s fantasy, she ran her fingers over Ruari’s chiselled muscles as he cleaned every particle of mud from every nook and cranny, including the plush carpet and the crevices between the seats. She watched his strong hands grip a portable vacuum cleaner and imagined them gripping herself.
Stop this!Mary admonished with a quick shake of her head to prevent her thoughts wandering further. But unable to resist, she remembered Ruari as he sauntered around her Range Rover to inspect the job, then casually asked if Mary had any areas that needed special attention. The comment made her blush, and her embarrassment increased when it was time to settle. Ruari turned to Mary and, with a slow grin told her she was like a well-oiled machine and gave a cheeky wink. Fumbling for cash, Mary had generously over-tipped and told herself he’d been referring to the vehicle.
Now, as Conor sat silently beside her, she certainly wasn’t going to mention the incident. Conor always said that Ruari was trouble. But maybe, Mary pondered as she drove the Range Rover onto the school road, in her fantasies, a little trouble wouldn’t be the worst thing.
They arrived at the school, and Mary opened her window to call out as the girls scrambled from the car. ‘Be here at the door at ten o’clock sharp,’ she instructed. ‘If not, we’ll come in and get you.’
‘Oh, Mam, don’t you dare.’ Two horrified faces stared back.
Mary closed her window and took one last look at Caitlin, who wore a modest button-up shirt with stirrup pants. Maeve, the rebel, favoured an ’80s punk-rock look, and Mary winced at her youngest daughter’s short leather skirt, ripped fishnet tights, and acid-washed vest.
‘You wouldn’t go into the disco and drag them out in front of their friends, would you?’ Conor asked as he watched other parents deposit their offspring at the school gates. For the ’80s-night, retro vibes appeared to be popular, with giggling girls dressed in high-waisted jeans and crop tops, while others wore off-the-shoulder blouses, channelling classic ’80s style.
‘You bet I would, I can’t imagine what Maeve will be getting up to.’
‘It would be most embarrassing.’
As Mary drove away, she wondered who would be the most embarrassed: Conor or the girls? She wished Conor would ease up and not be such a stuffed shirt. And why couldn’t he be more hands-on? A bit more help would be appreciated, instead of the perpetual excuse that he was too busy with work.
But Mary also thought that Conor was preoccupied and as she pulled into the Salty Dog Inn’s car park, she felt pleased that there were a couple of hours of conversation ahead that might iron out a few relationship wrinkles.
Crossing the car park, Mary reached out to take Conor’s hand and noted that he barely glanced at her as her fingers curled into his own. As they steppedinto the pub the air was thick with the chatter of patrons occupying every nook and cranny. Conor eased his way to the bar, and as he ordered a pint and a sparkling mineral water for Mary, she heard him speak to the landlord.
‘Saturday nights used to be quiet here. Is there something I’ve missed?’
‘You need to keep up, Conor Murphy. We’ve got live music now at the weekends and an open mic.’
Unable to find a seat, Mary and Conor huddled together as the strains of Irish music struck up from a band on a corner stage. It was a hive of activity, and despite the dim lighting, the pub was humming with happy drinkers in the warmth of good company and a well-poured pint.
‘This is nice.’ Mary leaned into Conor, trying to catch his attention over the sound of a fiddle and a piercing penny whistle.
‘If you like this sort of thing,’ Conor replied.
Mary remembered Conor’s suggestion was for a quiet drink and wondered if he was regretting his decision to bring her here. She was about to suggest they move somewhere more peaceful when she felt her phone vibrate. Mungo was calling. Mary remembered that she’d missed an earlier call from Jake and wondered if something had happened to Atticus. Feeling slightly panicked, she mouthed the word ‘Mungo’ and indicated to Conor that she was going outside to take the call. Conor made a gesture of exasperation and turned away.
Moving quickly across the car park, Mary told Mungo to hang on. Deciding to sit down, she unlocked her car andclimbed in. ‘That’s better,’ Mary said. ‘I’m all ears. Now, how are you, Mungo?’
There was a pause before her brother began to speak, and Mary wondered if he was collecting his thoughts. ‘Have you heard from Dad?’ Mungo asked.
Mary thought of the text she’d received that morning.
All gud in suny Spain. Camp site neat. Hope u r ok.
Atticus had been short with his words, and she’d been surprised by the abbreviations, but she knew he would have received lessons from Jake.
‘Yes, he texted me today, and I replied that I hoped he was enjoying his holiday.’
‘Enjoying his holiday,’ Mungo calmly repeated her words.
