Chapter 3
A little lost along the way
Morgan
Holly is drunk by the time we sit down at the dinner table to eat. Having skipped food at the party, the table is full, along with a large jug of water in the middle. My parents were happy for us to miss the after party at the O’Keefe’s place and have not long been back from there themselves.
“Was everyone okay?” I ask Mum, passing her the bowl of spuds.
She spoons some onto her plate, then hands the bowl to my dad sitting next to her. “Everyone was fine, hun. I passed on your apologies to Fi like you asked me to.” Mum places a napkin on her lap. “You get up to much while we were out?”
“No.” I chance a glance at Holly.
She thinks about picking up some chicken, but her lips roll back as if she’s suppressing a gag.
“Oh?”
“We decided just to chill out here. Celebrating a birthday in a church hall wasn’t Holly’s idea of fun.” I leave out the fact that Holly drank almost an entire bottle of my mum’s wine when we got back.
Dad holds the bowl of potatoes out for me.
“Thank you.” I pick up a carrot, my stomach churning where I’m so hungry, before I begin filling my plate.
“Manners,” Mum says like I’m five.
Holly kicks me under the table, resting her head in her hand which is leaning on the back of the chair.
Ignoring her, I plate myself up and grab my fork, tucking into dinner. “Any news on Jerry?” I ask about my brother. It’s out of politeness more than anything else.
Mum pours a glass of water for herself before holding the jug for my glass. I hold it up, and she pours as she tells me, “Nothing new. He said he’ll be back next week, if he can.”
“Because we’re all desperate to see him.” Holly says what I’m thinking.
I kick Holly in return, missing her leg and accidentally kicking the leg of the table causing everything to rattle.
Dad looks up, confused.
“Will be nice to see him,” I lie. Sure, I don’t really want to see my brother, but he’s family, and his recent promotion should be celebrated.
“Sure will,” Mum agrees.
“Anyway, I had a very interesting chat with one of my clients earlier. He said there’s an opening coming up, wondered if you were interested.” Dad’s voice is tentative but firm.
“Which client?” I ask, my insides sinking. How many times do we have to do this?
Dad’s hands pause lifting his food to his mouth. He looks my way. “Mr Caldwell. He owns the pension place in town. It’s an office job. Three days a week. Easy.” He says it so nonchalantly as he carries on eating.
For reasons I can’t understand, my dad likes to do this.
He’s constantly searching for something for me to do.
Doesn’t matter if the job is mundane or totally boring, doing anything is better than doing nothing, apparently.
Sucks for me that I can’t do the thing I love most as a job, but what does that matter anyway?
Even if I did find the courage to write, nobody in their right mind would want to read my work.
Not that I’d let them. It’s not that anyone’s ever told me it’s bad, it’s just so nerve wracking, I’ve never let anyone actually read it.
“That sounds interesting. I can email him.”
“He’s going to call you tomorrow.”
My cutlery hits my plate. “Dad.”
Mum puts her cutlery down, too. “Now, Morgan. This could be really good for you. It’s out of the village which means you can spread your wings a little bit. Start earning some decent money.”
My lips roll in on each other. Spread my wings? Like I somehow haven’t wanted to since I was a teenager. This charade is getting old.
I grumble under my breath. “Mum, in order for me to be able to leave here, I’d need a car. And to have a car would mean I would need to be able to actually drive the thing. I can’t afford lessons, and you—”
“And you are almost twenty-one and need to figure that out for yourself.” Dad’s tone has dropped.
I give a slight nod of my head, knowing he’s right, even though in my heart it feels different somehow.
“There are buses you can catch into town; you don’t need to have a car.” Mum wipes her mouth with her napkin, and Holly sits up straighter in her chair, making me look her way. I almost forgot she was here.
“Yeah, what’s wrong with being a bus wanker?” she says mockingly.
“Holly!” Jesus, it’s like she wants to see an argument.
“Listen, Morgan,” my dad starts, his chin curling to his chest as if he can’t look at me properly.
“Driving isn’t always safe and is very expensive.
The bus isn’t. I gave Mr Caldwell our number, and he said he would call tomorrow.
I expect you to at least try and show some maturity and realise that eventually, you have to move on and gain some normality in your life. ”
Holly and I exchange a look, her face scrunches just like mine. “Because what I do now isn’t normal?”
Holly mutters something under her breath, obviously thinking the same as me.
“But I love writing.” I ignore the fact I’ve had writer’s block for as long as I can remember.
When I look around the table, nobody is eating.
My mum looks in Holly’s direction, then she covers her face with her hands with a large sigh.
“That’s not what Dad meant,” she says. “What he was trying to say is, life is difficult, we understand that. After we let you take a break in your education for a well needed rest, we feel that now is the time for you to get a normal job and think about your future.”
“I had a normal job—”
“But you couldn’t do that.” My dad’s hand slams on the table, completely out of character.
I jump in my seat, a shudder snaking down my spine. What was that? I narrow my eyes at him before I blink hurriedly. I’m not hungry anymore. But I’m actually grateful. For the first time in ages, somebody said what they feel.
And what he’s saying is that I’m a failure.
Granted, he isn’t wrong, but it still hurts hearing it. “No, I couldn’t. So, what makes you think I could do an office job any better?”
Dad wipes a hand down his face. He’s in his early fifties, but his greys have certainly increased in the past three years. Maybe that’s the stress I’m apparently causing him.
“I’m sorry, okay,” he begins, before he sighs and looks at me. “I just want to see you happy.”
“And you think an office job is the answer to my happiness?”
“I know who the answer is,” Holly says, steering the conversation in the opposite direction completely, loud enough for everyone to hear.
My eyes widen.
“What is it?” Mum asks, her lips pressing into a thin line, her stare steady like she’s waiting for me to say something.
I let out a sigh. No point in lying now. “Holly thinks I should go speak to Paddy. You know, seeing as he’s back.”
My dad’s back snaps straight. “No. Absolutely not. That will only cause you more emotional stress that you can’t handle right now.”
What the hell does that mean?
“Dad, it’s Paddy we’re talking about. Fi tells me he’s a paramedic now. Totally different from how you remember him.”
Mum’s nose tips up like she’s all noble. “We’re only looking out for you, Morgan. Paddy O’Keefe… He’s not the answer.”
I look at her, thinking she’ll elaborate. She doesn’t. “Like, he’s not the answer, period? Or he’s not the answer to something specific?”
Dad glares at Mum, the tiny vein in his head pulsing. “I don’t want her seeing that man.”
“Why are you talking like I’m not sitting right next to you?”
Holly shifts nervously.
Before Dad can say anything, Mum takes a breath. “Because Dad cares about you. We all do.”
Lord help me. I give Holly a look that lets her know I’m not happy about her putting me in the doghouse.
“Why would saying hi to our friend’s brother, someone who we grew up around, be so bad?
” I actually have no intention of talking to Paddy, but I’m curious enough to know why this apparently is a big deal to them.
“Why?” Dad asks, looking around at everyone. He goes to speak again, but Holly cuts him off.
“Because he could make her happy.”
“Jesus, Hols, shut up.” My head hits my hands. “Actually, can we not do this now, please?”
“I think you should,” she says, laughing at me.
“Morgan?” Mum questions after I allow a few moments of silence to pass.
“Mum, please, trust me. Paddy being back will change nothing. Holly is being ridiculous. Yes, I had a crush on him when I was a kid, but everyone has crushes. I got over mine.”
My parents look at each other knowingly.
Frustrated, I stand from the table, tucking in my chair. It’s obvious I’ve lost whatever this conversation is. “I forgot to grab a dessert. Holly,” I loop my hand under her arm, “you can come with me.” I look at Mum. “I won’t be out long.”
Mum doesn’t reply, but Holly flusters being dragged from her seat. “Alright, jeez. Thanks for the food, Mr and Mrs Brooks.”
“Thanks for that,” I whisper shout, spinning on my heels to face her once we’re in the hall.
“You’re welcome,” she sings, annoyingly cheerily.
“For God’s sake, Holly. You don’t get it, do you? My parents are going to obsess about me having a relationship now, as well as making sure I get a job. Urgh, this is so messed up. Why can’t I just go back in time and to uni like everyone else, then I wouldn’t feel so left behind.”
Holly takes my hand. “Come with me.” It’s her turn to drag me up the stairs to my bedroom. “Close the door,” she instructs before she makes her way to my mirror in front of the window.
After closing the door, I make my way to stand by her side.
“Tell me what you see.”
I follow her line of vision to the various photos stuck with Blu Tack to the edge of my mirror. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“Those.” She points at the pictures. “Tell me what you see.”
My eyes dance across the images. “I see old photos.”
With a light sigh, she says, “What do you really see? Look closely.”