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“Oh, bugger, bugger, bugger.” I rested my forehead against the doorframe. I needed to fix things with Niamh, but in my heart I knew that neither of us had the energy to spare right now. Besides, my primary focus was currently lying flat out on the bed behind me. Any emotional repair would have to wait.
Two minutes later Niamh returned with an armful of towels topped with a neatly folded nightshirt and the promised toothbrush. “The nightie’ll probably swamp you, mind. I must be twice your size, but it’s clean and ironed. So I’ll just leave you in peace, yeah? Feargal is out with the band ‘til about two in the morning then he’ll be at the tattoo place by ten, and I’ve got to be at the hospital by eight but we’ll try not to disturb you.”
Without waiting for a reply she gently closed the door and left me to what I already knew was going be a long and particularly uncomfortable night of contemplation.
Chapter Seventeen
Finn
“Fucking ow.” Even my eyelids hurt as I forced them to open. By the thin grey light oozing into the room I guessed it was morning. I automatically reached for my packet of Marlboro until I remembered I’d stubbed the very last one out on my hand the night before, and tried to get my eyes to focus.
“Welcome back, Einstein.” Lilith stood at the window, looking out of a gap in the curtains at the street below. She was barefoot, tousle-haired and swamped by a teddy bear-patterned nightshirt, and still looked like she could happily snap a man’s neck before breakfast.
“Fuck Lili, I am so sorry.” Even as I uttered the words, I knew they didn’t go anywhere near repairing the damage I must have done.
“Oh, I don’t need an apology right now, Finn. I need reassurance.” She slowly turned to fix me with a gaze that was beyond glacial. “So. Lapse or relapse?”
I gave a soft moan in reply, part self-loathing and part physical pain.“Ah Jesus sweetheart, I hate that you have to ask…”
“I said, ‘lapse or relapse’, Finn,’” she said again, and the ice crept from her eyes and into every word she uttered. “I know the answer, Finn. Or at least I hope I do. I just… I just really need to hear you say it right now.”
I resisted the urge to hide under the duvet for the rest of my life. “Lapse.”
She slumped onto the bed with her back turned to me and for the longest time said nothing at all. Then finally she sighed and her fingers entwined with mine. “You arsehole, Strachan. You utter, cunting, stupid, bastard arsehole. I hate you. I believe you. And I love you, and I swear to your ridiculous God that if there’s the slightest suggestion that this might happen again, I’m packing everything up and shipping you straight back to Luis. Fucking freight.”
“That sounds… reasonable,” I offered, hardly daring to breathe at the fact she might forgive me. “Far more reasonable than I deserve. I thought you’d be angrier than this…”
“Oh don’t get me wrong, Finn, I’m fucking furious right now. Absolutely incandescent. I’m angry that you didn’t trust me to get here in time, that you didn’t trust yourself enough to get through this without hurting yourself even more, and that I ended up behaving like an utter cunt to your sister and her husband when I thought I’d put all of that shit behind me months ago.“
I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Ah fuck, where is Niamh? I need to apologise…”
“Gone already. She and Feargal are both at work. She had an early shift at the hospital, and he’s opening the tattoo parlour. She brought me tea before she left though, and freaked out about having put the milk in first. I’ve clearly completely traumatised the poor woman.”
I’d seen Lilith in action before; attempting to convince her that that probably wasn’t the case was pointless. “Ah, she’ll be okay - I’m guessing she’s more grateful that you saved my sorry arse than anything else.”
She gave an indelicate snort. “You’re also probably pretty fortunate that you’re not top of my hit list, either. Sinéad needs to stay out of my sight for the rest of our visit - or possibly the rest of her miserable existence - for the sake of her own skin, and as for your bloody mother, I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone more than I do her right now.”
I pulled the duvet over my head. “I can’t even do that; how pathetic do I sound? You saw what she was like – that’s not my mother in that bed any more, just some worn out little old lady waiting to die. It’s like she’s escaped already.”
Lilith laid a hand on my shoulder. “Well if it’s any consolation I can just hate her for the pair of us. In fact it’s probably a good thing that I got tied up here otherwise I’d be at the hospice right now holding a pillow over her dessicated face.”
“Jesus.” I lowered the duvet a little and one glance at her expression told me she was entirely serious. We sat in silence for a while whilst I tried – and failed – to find a suitable response before I finally settled on a hesitant “So, what now?”
“We get a taxi back to the hotel,” Lilith said. “Shower, sleep, regroup. Take some time to breathe. Then I need to try to figure out how to gain the forgiveness of one of your sisters, and how not to murder the other one.”
“Sounds like a busy morning,” I offered.
“Oh, not as busy as yours is going to be, sunshine. You’re calling Luis the minute we get back and sorting out an action plan to make sure we never venture into this valley of shit again.”
Chapter Eighteen
Lilith
My opportunity for redemption with Niamh and Feargal arose four days later, with Niamh’s birthday.
“You’re quiet.” Finn sat cross-legged on our massive bed clad only in a pair of well-fitting jockey shorts and closed his laptop after his latest catch-up session with Sceolan.
“Hmm.”I leaned back against him. “Plotting.”
