Walsh Family 1 - Watermelon by Marian Keyes

Author:Marian Keyes
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi
ISBN: 9780060090364
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

nineteen

The next morning the house was like Grand Central Station.

Helen was going to Belfast for two days on a college trip and obviously believed that her preparations should not only be a last-minute affair but should also be a family event.

Instead of being woken by Kate, I woke to the sound of stealthy rustling at the foot of my bed. Someone was in my room and up to no good. I sat up sleepily.

“Who’s that?” I yawned.

It was Helen.

I might have known.

She was making for the door with an armful of my new clothes.

“Oh, Claire!” she said, jumping guiltily as she dropped one of my new boots on the floor. “I thought you were asleep.”

“So I see,” I said dryly. “Now put them back.”

“Bitch,” muttered Helen, throwing a big pile of my clothes onto the floor.

They had obviously been Belfast-bound.

I’m sorry, boys, I told them. I’ll take you another time.

I heard her go down to the kitchen and shortly afterward there was the inevitable outbreak of raised voices. What was it about her?

Kate was awake in her bassinet, just lying there looking at the ceiling.

“Why didn’t you cry, darling?” I teased her gently. “Why didn’t you wake me and tell me that nasty Auntie Helen was stealing my clothes?”

I picked her up and took her into bed with me, holding her soft warm tiny little body in my arms.

We lay in bed for a while, drifting in and out of sleep, half listening to the sounds of an argument in the kitchen. I really should get up, I thought.

Maybe Helen will mention Adam before she leaves.

I just held Kate tighter. My precious beautiful child.

But then she started demanding to be fed so I got out of bed and quickly got dressed, tripping over the pile of clothes on the floor in the process.

The two of us went downstairs.

Where a little dispute seemed to be in process.

Anna, Mum and Helen were sitting around the table surrounded by breakfast debris, Pop-Tarts and teapots and cereal boxes all over the place.

Mum and Helen were arguing loudly.

Anna was smiling beatifically and doing something peculiar with a daisy and a paper clip.

“I know nothing about any green scarf and gloves,” Mum told Helen hotly.

“But I left them on top of the fridge,” Helen protested. “So what did you do with them?”

“Well, if you’d put them in their proper place you’d know where to find them,” Mum answered her.

“The top of the fridge is the proper place,” Helen replied. “It’s where I always leave my things.”

“Morning,” I said pleasantly.

They all completely ignored me.

For no obvious reason the back door was swinging open and blasts of Siberianesque morning air blew through the kitchen.

This was ridiculous. I had a small child on the premises.

I walked briskly over and, holding Kate with one hand, managed to shut the door and lock it securely with the other.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” said Anna darkly.

I looked at her in surprise.

I would have thought that it was far too early in the morning, even for Anna, to be all mystical and ethereal.

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