Good Eggs by Rebecca Hardiman

Author:Rebecca Hardiman [Rebecca Hardiman]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2021-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Sometime after eleven that evening, the Gogarty minivan pulls up alongside Rossdale and Dad kills the motor. A single bulb burns above the front door, illuminating a brass knocker that gives the impression of this actually being a home. The road is stunningly quiet and dark, no streetlights, no cars, no noise. It occurs to Aideen that Gran must miss the sound of the sea.

“Right,” says Dad. “Here we are.”

“I need to stop by Margate and get some papers,” Gran announces, sniffing.

Dad hops pointedly out of the van and heaves open the sliding backseat door.

“Count of three,” he says.

“I have to go over my will. Make some changes.” Is she winking at Aideen? It’s hard to tell in the dark, but Gran’s face does have that wild shit-stirring look.

“I’ll ring you first thing in the morning,” Dad says now, reaching across Gran to unbuckle her seat belt.

“Ring?” She blocks his hand from the buckle. “I haven’t gotten a single phone call since I arrived.”

“That is patently untrue,” Dad says. He leans Gran’s umbrella against the van and offers both hands to her. Gran ignores him, sighs and sits back, as if fireside.

“In actual fact, I did get a phone call. From Sylvia.”

Aideen stirs.

“Who?” Irritation creeps into Dad’s voice. “Oh, her.”

“Sylvia rang?” says Aideen.

“From America, no less.”

“That’s splendid,” says Dad. “Can I assist you out of the van, Mum? Let’s—give me your good hand there.”

Gran bristles. “I want to go home.”

“And you will, just as soon as you’re fully recovered,” says Dad.

“Sylvia’s in America?” This, from Aideen, is asked as casually as she can muster.

“The surgery was a success.”

Aideen says, “What surgery?”

“Mum, it’s late and Ciaran needs to go to bed. Can we talk about this tomorrow? Please, just give me your good hand.”

Gran’s face fogs. “Wait now… Did I not mention…? I suppose I didn’t.”

“She needed surgery?” says Aideen.

“Oh no, not Sylvia,” says Gran. “She’s right as rain. The most thorough American you can imagine.”

Dad sighs. “I thought you just said she had surgery?”

“No, it was the boy she looks after, her nephew. Did you never meet him? From Florida.”

“What in the world are you talking about, Mum?”

“Sean, Sylvia’s young charge,” Millie says, as if they are all brain-dead, “has a life-threatening illness.”

“Who’s Sean?” says Nuala.

Throughout these detonations, Aideen has barely dared breathe. She’s struggling to absorb this data dump, grateful that the darkness can hide her shock and also that Sean never laid eyes on her sister.

“In actual fact,” Gran says, “he was on his deathbed, if you must know. He called at the house a few times with her. I will say, he helped me tremendously. Extremely helpful.” She looks directly at Dad. “Odd jobs I’ve been trying to get accomplished. He rewired the lamp in the kitchen.”

“What do you mean Sean’s… sick?” says Aideen. “I don’t think so, Gran.”

“Do you know him?” Mum asks.

Aideen mumbles a sort of affirmative.

“Oh I don’t remember what the disease was,” Gran says. She removes her hat, scratches with gusto the back of her scrubby head.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.