Page 98 of Lyrebird

‘I’m sorry,’ Rory says finally. ‘I really am. I had no idea she would get messy like that. The reason I didn’t call you is because she said she didn’t want me to.’

Solomon’s heart pounds even faster. Everything Rory says is designed to drive Solomon’s fist through Rory’s face. Then Solomon would be wrong and everybody would run to Rory’s aid.

‘She has a name.’

‘Lyrebird,’ Rory rolls his eyes. ‘Lyrebird said she didn’t want me to call you.’

‘Her name is Laura,’ Solomon says through gritted teeth. ‘You don’t even know her fucking name.’

‘I didn’t know where to take her,’ he continues his fake apology. ‘She didn’t want to go to the hotel, she couldn’t go to your place, seeing as you’d had a falling out and she had to leave, so I thought I’d take up a few people on their kind offer to help. The girls at the party were looking after her, I thought she’d be in safe hands with them. I really didn’t know.’

Rory’s demeanour doesn’t match his tone. Solomon feels his brothers near him, just behind him.

‘Of course I’m sure we all know that this wouldn’t be such an issue if Solomon wasn’t jealous because I took Laura out for a drink.’

‘Stop it,’ Marie says.

‘Shake hands,’ Dad says.

Rory reaches out his hand, Solomon takes it. He wants to pull him in, head butt him. Break that fucking nose. Rory’s grip is tight and strong for a little fella, but then Rory always had to resort to other tactics to survive in the family, to get attention, to be seen and heard. Being ganged up against like this is a big deal for him. Even if he’s not showing it right now, even though he’s cool as a cucumber, his ‘I don’t care’ attitude doesn’t wash with Solomon. Solomon realises that this is the worst possible situation for Rory, the entire family forcing him to apologise to Solomon for something he knows he did wrong. Suddenly Solomon enjoys this knowledge, allowing Rory to think he’s getting the better of him, when the reality is that Rory’s weakness is showing. Solomon feels the tension release ever so slightly from his shoulders.

Perhaps Rory realises he’s losing Solomon’s anger, that Solomon is no longer the underdog, because he then scrapes the barrel.

‘She’s a great little ride though,’ he says, to his mother’s dismay and a yell from his dad.

Rory lets go of Solomon’s hand. Solomon’s throat is sticky and dry, his heart pounding manically, a tribal drum calling for war.

Then Solomon sees a fist arc through the air before making contact with Rory’s face. Rory staggers. Surprisingly, it’s not Solomon’s fist, it’s Cormac’s. Big brother Cormac, the responsible one. They all look at him in shock at first and no one makes a move to help Rory, who’s fallen to the floor, but then Cormac’s high-pitched cries move them to action.

‘I think I broke my fingers,’ he squeals.

Rory sits up, holding his head, in agony. ‘Who punches a forehead?’

Cara starts laughing at them all. She holds her camera up and takes photos.

Later that night, the brothers and Cara sit outside in the garden on the round garden furniture table, drinking bottles of beer. Marie is ignoring them all, giving them the silent treatment for their behaviour and their dad is supporting her by doing the same, though they all know he’s dying to join them.

Cormac’s hand is in a sling. Two fingers are broken and the mix of painkillers and alcohol has made him the entertainment of the night.

Rory sits away from Solomon, a lump the size of a quail’s egg protruding from his forehead. The storm clouds have delivered rain but nothing has dried, the landscape is utterly drenched and so they perch on the dry spots for now. One thing is preying on Solomon’s mind: did Rory sleep with Laura? He’s almost sure that Rory made it up to get at him, which he succeeded in doing, but he can’t get it out of his head. Thankfully, Cara comes to his aid.

‘You know Rory, if you did sleep with Laura, you might have to answer some questions from the guards.’

‘What?’ Rory yelps. ‘What are you on about?’

‘There’s such a thing as consent, probably not a word you’re familiar with …’

Cara explains. ‘It requires the woman saying yes. It’s a real thing. Other men actually have sex with women who aren’t locked out of their heads. Women who can see the faces of their lovers. Now I know it’s not usually how you operate, but—’

‘Shut the fuck up, Cara.’

She winks at Solomon. ‘Seriously, we all saw the photographs. The whole world saw them. She couldn’t put one foot in front of the other. If you took her to that party and did what you said you did, then you could be in serious trouble.’

Rory looks at them all, ignoring Solomon. ‘Oh, whatever. Of course I didn’t sleep with her – she could barely remember her own name. She spent the entire night vomiting.’

The relief in Solomon is overwhelming, but his heart breaks for Laura, for what she went through alone.

‘Rory was right about one thing though,’ Cormac slurs.