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There was a shocked gasp, and Mam immediately let go of my arm. We both looked to find the kids had returned. Vivi was the one who gasped, her hands going over Eamonn’s ears. Robbie was frowning, and Shelly’s eyes welled up like she was about to cry.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Robbie demanded, stepping forward.
“That wasn’t for your ears, son,” Mam said. “Maggie and I were having a conversation for grownups.”
“I don’t think grownups should call each other the c-word,” Robbie countered. “It isn’t nice.”
“Ah, here,” Mam replied, softening her features and ignoring what he said. “Come and sit back down. I’ve missed you all so much.”
“I want to go home,” Shelly said quietly, a quiver in her voice, and Eamonn nodded in agreement.
Mam’s soft expression suddenly hardened. “You want to go home? Go, then. You’ve all enjoyed pretending I don’t exist for eight years, might as well go on doing the same for another eight.”
“They’re children,” I said. “It wasn’t in their power to—”
“Oh, do fuck off, Maggie. I don’t need the holier than thou act. You always liked to imagine you were better than me, but you’re not, especially not with a father the likes of Gerard Murphy.”
My heart frosted over as I stared at her. “I didn’t think I was better than you. All I ever wanted was for you to be my parent and take care of me, love me, but you weren’t capable of that.”
She didn’t seem to have any response other than to shake her head and fold her arms like I was being melodramatic.
When I looked to Vivi, she seemed shattered. Whatever hopes she’d had about Mam being redeemable cracked and folded. Rising from my seat, I took Shelly’s hand. “Come on, it’s time to go,” I said.
“Yeah, go on, leave,” I heard Mam say derisively as we went. “Waste of my time.”
“She was so nice at first,” Vivi whispered, shaken, when we emerged from the building. I inhaled a big gulp of air, feeling like I could finally breathe again.
“Don’t take it personally. That was all about me, okay? We just …” I trailed off. My relationship with our mother was difficult to explain in one sentence. “We rub each other the wrong way,” I finally finished. It was the most PG answer I could give in front of the younger children.
“She’s mean,” Eamonn said, his little face drawn and serious. I hated seeing him look that way.
“She’s a fu—” Robbie began, but he shut up when he saw the warning look I gave him. I had a fair idea what he was about to say, but then he finished cheekily, “A fudging witch. She’s a fudging witch.”
Suddenly, Vivi burst out laughing, and then the others joined in, too. I couldn’t help the grin that tugged at my lips. Trust a twelve-year-old boy to figure out a creative way around swearing.
I was grateful to him for lightening the mood, though. Vivi came and linked her arm through mine. “I think I get it now, why you didn’t want to visit her.”
“She’s a complicated person,” I said. “But she’s still our mother. I understand why you want to know her.”
“That’s the thing. I’m not sure if I do anymore.”
“You don’t need to decide now. You might change your mind,” I said, casting her a gentle look.
Vivi nodded, and I spotted Shay emerge from the car. My spirits lifted when I saw him. If the sight of my mam filled me with tension and dread, then the sight of Shay filled me with the opposite. Seeing her today was a good thing. If nothing else, it reminded me how much better my life was without her in it. I didn’t need to feel guilty for cutting her out. My mam was who she was because her life and circumstances had shaped her that way. She’d been hurt and neglected, and I felt for her in that regard, but being around her was just volunteering myself for guaranteed suffering. Maybe it was selfish, but I had no problem being selfish on this issue. It was either that or let her hurt me. And I refused to let her hurt me any longer.
“He’s so hot,” Vivi sighed, gazing at Shay. “You’re lucky, Maggie. He’s clearly obsessed with you. I wish a boy could be obsessed with me like that.”
I was surprised she’d noticed Shay’s feelings for me because she’d only observed us together for a short while that morning. I was also surprised by her interest in boys. Well, I wasn’t naive. I knew she was coming to that age, but it was still disconcerting.
“You’re too young for boys to be obsessing over you. Wait a few years, please, for my sanity and peace of mind,” I cast her a suffering look, and she chuckled, her mood improved since we’d left the prison.
