He looked kind of cute, Grace thought. The way he bugged the woman who just wanted to sleep. She couldn’t help smiling at him. He didn’t notice her. No one did. But she didn’t care. She really didn’t.
She curled her fingers in her childish-looking mittens and shrugged her shoulders up to her ears, wishing she could pretend to sleep. But she was never any good at pretending. What you see is what you get. That was what her mum always said about her. And now she was stuck living with her brother for a month. Not that he was around too often. Thank God, because he was awfully fussy.
She looked down at the empty seat beside her to make sure her bag was still there. No one ever sat beside her until it was standing room only. I’m not going to bite you, she wanted to say, but she never did. She just smiled her gap-toothed smile and nodded. A nod usually put them at ease. You’d think I was a serial killer, the way some of them look at me, she thought. She couldn’t help her anxious fidgeting, and she didn’t care about what anyone thought, one way or the other.
I am me, she wanted to shout.
She remained tight-lipped.
Three
‘Chloe and Sean! Do I have to make myself hoarse every single morning? Up! Now!’
Lottie turned away from the stairs and shook her head. It was getting worse rather than better. At least next week they would be on mid-term break and she could escape to work without ripped vocal cords.
She unloaded the washing machine. The laundry basket was still half full, so she threw in another load and switched on the machine, then lugged the damp clothes to the dryer. At one time, her mother, Rose Fitzpatrick, used to do a little housework for her, but that relationship was more strained than ever before, and now Rose was feeling poorly.
Sipping a cup of coffee, Lottie allowed it to soothe her nerves. She swallowed three painkillers and tried to massage her back where the stab wound was doing its best to heal. Putting the physical injuries aside, she knew the emotional scars were embedded on her psyche forever. As she gazed out at the frosty morning, she wondered if she should fetch a sweater to keep out the cold. She was wearing a black T-shirt with long sleeves, frayed at the cuffs, and a pair of black skinny jeans. She’d dumped her trusty Uggs last week and was wearing Katie’s flat-soled black leather ankle boots.
‘Here, Mother,’ said Chloe, strolling into the kitchen. ‘I think you might need this today.’
‘Thank you.’ Lottie took the blue hoodie from her seventeen-year-old daughter. She noticed that Chloe was wearing pale foundation and a smoky eyeshadow with thick black mascara. Her blonde hair was tied up in a knot on top of her head.
‘You know you’re not allowed to wear make-up to school.’
‘I do. And I’m not.’ Chloe fetched a box of cornflakes and began shovelling them into her mouth.
‘And that’s lip gloss. Come on. You don’t want to get into trouble.’
‘I won’t. It’s not make-up. Just a soft sheen to protect my skin from the cold air,’ Chloe said, picking cornflake crumbs off her sticky lips.
Lottie shook her head. Too early for an argument. She rinsed her mug under the tap. ‘I’m just warning you in case the teachers notice.’
‘Right!’ Chloe said and turned up her nose. So like her father, Lottie thought.
‘I worry about you.’
‘Stop fussing. I’m fine.’ Chloe picked up her rucksack and headed for the door.
‘I can give you a lift if you like.’
‘I’ll walk, thanks.’
The front door shut loudly. Lottie wasn’t at all convinced her daughter was fine. Being called Mother still rankled. It grated on her nerves, and Chloe knew it. That was why she did it. Only in times of extreme tenderness did she call Lottie Mum.
‘I’d love a pancake,’ Sean said, entering the kitchen holding out his school tie.
‘Sean, what age are you?’ Lottie looped the tie round her neck and began making a knot.
He looked out from under his eyelashes. ‘I can’t wait to be fifteen in April. Maybe then you might stop treating me like a kid.’
‘I’ve shown you countless times how to knot your tie.’ She handed it back.
‘Dad never learned how to do it. I remember you always making the knot for him.’
Lottie smiled wistfully. ‘You’re right. And I’m sorry, but I haven’t time to make pancakes. You’ve been watching too many American TV shows.’ She flicked his hair out of his eyes and squeezed his shoulder. ‘See you later. Be good at school.’
She zipped up her hoodie, grabbed her bag and coat and escaped towards the front door.
‘Any chance of a lift?’ Sean said.
‘If you hurry up.’
She waited as he took a tub of yoghurt from the fridge and a spoon from a drawer.
Picking up his bag, he said, ‘I’m ready when you are.’
Lottie shouted up the stairs. ‘See you later, Katie. Give Louis a goodbye kiss from me.’ Then, without waiting for her eldest child to reply, she followed her son out the door.
Just another normal morning in the Parker household.
Four
The train stopped at the university town of Maynooth. No one disembarked. Not unusual for the first Ragmullin to Dublin commuter train of the morning. No, the college students would crowd the seven a.m. train. The platform was full, though. Coffee steamed in the frosty air and commuters shuffled towards each other for warmth and seats as they boarded.
Mollie hoped the man sitting opposite her would get out. But she wasn’t going to be that lucky. Like the other mornings, he was travelling to Dublin.
With his arms folded and his face turned to the window, she studied him again. Though his eyes were averted, she could feel them on her. Yuck, she thought with a shiver. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she tried to ward off the cold. But the feeling was something more than the open doors breathing in the outside air. The chill was emanating from the man sitting across from her.
She watched as he slowly turned away from the window and smiled. Thin pink lips turned up at the corners without the smile reaching his chill blue eyes with their dark pinprick pupils.
‘Did you study at Maynooth University?’ he asked.
His voice cut a shard into her heart. He sounded different from when he’d spoken earlier. Enquiring yet accusing. Gulping, she shook her head.
‘What college did you attend?’ he probed.
She really should tell him to bugger off. It was none of his business. Hell, she didn’t know who he was. He didn’t know her. Or did he? Furrowing her brow, she squinted at him. Was there anything vaguely familiar about him? No, she concluded. Nothing.
‘Cat got your tongue?’ That smile again. A smile that wasn’t a smile at all.
Biting the inside of her mouth, she wished she could get off the damn train. As far away from him as possible. You’re being irrational, her inner voice warned. He’s just being friendly. Making conversation. But no one made conversation on the early-morning commute.
Wanting to move away, she looked around, but the train was filling up and she might have to stand. She glanced across the aisle and caught the eye of a young woman sitting beside the opposite window. There was a spare seat beside her. Should she move over there? Would it appear odd given that there was still an empty place right next to her? But she didn’t know the man, so what did she care?
Pulling her black laptop bag towards her chest, she stood, grabbing her scarf before it hit the floor. She edged into the aisle and plonked herself down beside the young woman. But even as she exhaled with relief, she felt the cold air dissipate, to be replaced by the heat of an unspoken anger.
Blindly she stared straight ahead, hoping the girl wouldn’t try to strike up a conversation. No such luck.
‘My name’s Grace, what’s yours?’ The young woman flashed a gap-toothed smile.
Mollie groaned and scrunched her eyes tightly shut. It was definitely one of those mornings.
* * *