Page 46 of A December to Remember
“Why not? Wherehaveyou been? You certainly haven’t been down here for years. I’m surprised you even know who Verity is! So don’t chat shit about my mum not ‘flicking a duster around’ when you abandoned us a long time ago!”
“That is not fair!”
“No, what’s not fair is my mum trying to make everything easier for everyone else all the time, and the people she tries hardest for not even noticing.”
Guilt slithered in her stomach. What was she doing? It was as if the devil on her shoulder had punched the lights out of the angel on her other shoulder, and now she only had one voice in her head. She took a breath. This was ridiculous. The last thing she wanted to do was fight with her nephew.
“Listen, Patrick...”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t think I will.”
He walked deliberately out of the shop, leaving Simonewondering how she’d managed to screw things up quite so spectacularly.
“You really upset him, Simone, slagging his mum off. You know how protective he is.”
“That wasn’t my intention, obviously. Shit.”
“Aren’t you going to go after him, then?” Star asked.
“Should I?”
“Yes!” She nodded emphatically. She snatched up her phone and fired off a text.
“I don’t even know where he’s gone. I can’t exactly go over to Maggie’s and ask if I can speak to her son to apologize for slagging her off.”
“He’s right,” said Star. “We should never have left everything to Maggie to sort out.”
“I didn’t realize it had been such a hassle.” She was on the defensive again.
“Really? I think we did. We’re just used to her sorting everything out for us. Doesn’t paint us in a very favorable light, does it?”
Star was right. Simone had known full well she should have helped Maggie, but she was so overwhelmed with her own emotional trauma that she’d let her sister carry it all. She’d told herself that if Maggie needed help, she’d ask, knowing full well that her sister would rather die of exhaustion than bother anyone.Like hiding your eviction from everyone so as not to burden us. Oh, Maggie!
“Shit, shit, shit!” Simone twiddled her ponytail, a nervous habit.
Star’s phone pinged. “He’s at Betty’s,” she said.
“Was that him?”
“Yeah.”
“How have you got his number?”
“I asked for it at the funeral. I’m trying to be a less crap aunty.”
“Oh, bollocks to everything!” shouted Simone, grabbing her coat. “I’m going to Betty’s!” She slammed out of the door and then slammed straight back in again. “And you’re coming with me!”
Patrick was satat a table in the window with a mug of something covered in a spiral of squirty cream. He was scrolling through his mobile phone and didn’t notice Star and Simone arrive until an aunty-shaped shadow fell across the table. He looked up.
“Oh god, what?” he sighed. “Are you here to berate me for disrespecting my elders?”
“Elders?” Star sucked in a breath. “Low blow, Patrick.”
He smiled despite himself.
“Can we sit?” Simone asked. She was aware she needed to tread carefully here.
Patrick gestured at the chairs opposite him, and they sat down.
