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“And I’m happy for you, Aoif. Hand on my heart, I am. But don’t make him the be all and end all of your world, because, like you’ve already experienced, if it goes pear-shaped, you’ll have nothing to fall back on.”
“I expect that kind of naivety from your brothers and sister, but not you,” Mam snapped. “You know better.” Yeah, I did, but for once, I didn’t want to. For once in my life, I wanted my mother to show me the same consideration that she so willingly showed the rest of my siblings. It wouldn’t happen, of course. Because my feelings weren’t meant to be spared.
Dropping down on an elbow, he leaned in close and crushed his lips to mine. “Because I’m only doing life for you.”
“Am I dead? Have I gone to heaven?” “I don’t know about dead, but you’re definitely thick,”
No wonder he would rather throw himself into traffic than have a child, I thought to myself, he already has four.
“Because every time I look at you, all I can see is—” “Him,” he deadpanned, immediately releasing his hold on me. “Got it.” Nodding stiffly, he backed up to the gate, looking more crushed and broken than I’d ever seen him. “I hear ya, Molloy.” And then he turned around and walked away.
If something didn’t give, someone was going to die in that house. It would either be him or me.
“Your future,” she spat, like it was the most disgusting thing I could possibly say to her.
Gently peeling her hands away from my body, I placed them at her sides and moved for the window, needing to get as far as from this girl as I could before I did any further damage. “I love you.” “Joey!” “I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy.” And then I climbed out of her window and slipped into the night.
I just… I was so fucking tired. I felt hollow. Like I didn’t have anything left inside of me. Every time I closed my eyes at night, I was haunted by the sound of my mother and sister’s screams. And if it wasn’t their screaming, it was the image of him pinning my girlfriend to that table. I wanted to destroy that table. I wanted to take a sledgehammer to it and break it into a million pieces.
I had six years of friendship racked up with Molloy. I knew the girl inside and out, and she knew me. We’d grown up together. Our lives were tangled up and entwined.
“I want you to know something,” I managed to say, fighting back the tears that were trying to fill my eyes. “I want you to know that I hate you right now more than I have ever hated him. I want you to know that you are no longer my mother – not that I ever had one of those to begin with.”
I hoped he meant it. Because as much as I hated myself for thinking it, I knew in my heart that I didn’t have anything left to give her. I was empty. I was done.
“I’m your mother,” she sobbed, voice slurring. “Why do you hate me so much?” “I’m your son,” I replied, giving her back her words. “Why do you hate me so much?” “Because you’re him,” she slurred, twisting away from me. “Yeah,” I deadpanned, standing up, feeling nothing. “I’m him, and you’re worse.”
Always the protector.
Bitch please. She was about to get schooled real fast.
After spending a grand total of seven minutes in front of the judge, John Kavanagh not only had my case thrown out, but had somehow managed to coerce a judge – a fucking judge – to take pity on me enough to apologize to me.
“Let me help you. Let me save you, Joey.” “You can’t.” What part of that didn’t she get? “There’s nothing left to save, Mrs. Kavanagh, so please just stop.”
She was a young woman, and it gave me hope. Hope that she’d survive what I couldn’t.
“Joey, please,” she sobbed, clinging to me just the same as always. “What about me?” What about her? What about Tadhg? What about Ollie? What about Sean? What about Darren? “What about me?” I broke down and cried. “What about me, Shannon? What about me!”
“I was twelve.” My voice was strangled and my chest heaving, as I spilled my pain. “Twelve, Darren. When you were twelve, you had me. When I was twelve, I had nobody.”
I sleep well at night knowing that I have a grandson like you in the world. All my love, Nanny Murphy.
