Josh threw a glance over his shoulder, fixed his hoodie on his forehead so that the fabric nearly covered his eyes and leaned across to undo the inside latch on the painted iron gate of Sarah Barry’s house at College Grove. At nine in the evening it was still bright, but the hustle and bustle of the warm June day had evaporated and, just like the summer drizzle, a stillness had descended on the shrubs and bushes that lined the mature gardens that surrounded Sarah’s house. Everywhere looked different since his last visit, but he had been much younger when he was last there, a direct contrast to the young man with a five o’clock shadow that a Gillette model would have been proud of.
The gate squealed as he pushed it open, making him uncomfortable. The clatter of noise just as out of place in the relative silence of the settled street as he was. He closed the gate behind him quickly and made his way to knock on the front door. He knew it was unusual to be there on his own, but according to the conversation he had overheard between Sarah and his mum yesterday when he had come home from school, Sarah was the only other person on the planet who seemed to think that his dad moving back into the family home was a bad idea. They – him, Abbie and their mum – had been doing just fine on their own.
He peered through the frosted glass panel towards the warm light to the back of the house with his hands cupped around his eyes against the glass. He stepped back when he saw Sarah’s silhouette move from the kitchen inside and make her way to open the front door.
‘Josh,’ Sarah crossed her arms in front of her in an attempt to cover herself, throwing a glance at the top of his hood. Her voice was unusually high and by the startled look on her face and the fact that she was standing in front of him with nothing but a night shirt on, Josh knew that he was the last person she expected to see. ‘What is it, is everything okay?’ her voice was panicked but Josh knew by ‘everything’ she meant his mum. It was the same for all of them, an unspoken level of alertness and worry about Jenny that occupied their every waking thought.
‘Mum’s fine.’ Josh answered quickly. ‘And sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,’ he exhaled and pulled his hood back from his head worried that his appearance might have unnerved her too. His mother had told him hundreds of times how threatening a young man in a hoodie could appear to a woman on her own. ‘I hope I didn’t frighten you,’ he tried to divert his eyes so as not to fixate on the fact that she was only half-dressed in front of him and that her tanned, toned legs looked like they belonged to a twenty year old and not his mum’s best friend. ‘Mum hates hoodies, I…’ he hesitated stumbling through his words, ‘I should have pulled it down,’ he managed.
‘Yes, the invisibility cloak,’ Sarah replied with a warm smile. She had heard Jenny’s theory on boys and why they wore hoodies many a time too.
‘And before you ask it’s not because I want to be invisible to the Gardaí.’ Josh answered with a smile reciting the first theory his mum would offer if she was there. ‘Or as Mum would like them to be known,’ he smiled, ‘the disenfranchised proletarians,’ he offered with a snigger mimicking his mum’s voice.
‘Ah yes,’ Sarah beamed in amusement. ‘I don’t know whether I’m more impressed by the fact that you actually listen to your mother or the fact that you have an understanding of Marxism and social classes,’ she added.
‘Ah here,’ Josh kidded. Repeating his mother’s words was one thing, but understanding their origin was another. ‘I can honestly say, I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.’
‘At least you can’t be accused of not listening,’ she laughed. ‘What’s this she says about the other group of young men who wear hoodies?’ she scrunched up her forehead trying to remember. ‘Something about the invisible young men?’
‘Yes,’ Josh answered. ‘The group of young men that feel that they don’t have a voice and that they’re a burden on their community.’ It was as though he had absorbed his mother’s social commentary by osmosis. Her words felt like his own. ‘Or it could just be raining,’ Josh smiled and threw a glance behind him. ‘And we, the disenfranchised young men of society need to stay dry,’ he raised his eyebrows suggestively, eager to get inside.
‘Of course,’ Sarah smiled. She had heard him respond to his mother with the same line before and his quick-witted humour never failed to amuse her. She opened the door wide. He shuffled past her, making sure to wipe his size tens on the mat. ‘Come in.’ She closed the front door and waved towards the kitchen for him to go inside, her curiosity growing by the minute. ‘Are you sure everything’s okay, is your mum alright?’ She followed him into the kitchen, reached her hand up to his shoulder, feeling the dampness of his hoodie and guided him towards the island, encouraging him to sit down.
‘Yes, Mum’s fine, I promise, I just…’ he paused mid-sentence wondering what he should and shouldn’t say. He needed to talk to her, everything that was bubbling inside of his head needed to come out before he exploded and, as far as he was concerned, Sarah was the only one that would understand. There was no point talking to his mum, she had already made her mind up and as for Abbie, she was oblivious. She was still living in some alternative universe where happy endings were the norm, which surprised him considering she worried so much. Calling to Sarah was his last effort to stop what he thought was going to be the worst decision in his mother’s life. ‘And sorry if I gave you a fright. I didn’t know if you’d be home.’
In the two hours since Sarah had left work earlier, she had done a quick shop in the Tesco Extra around the corner, microwaved some leftover lasagne she had in the fridge from the night before and had a quick shower to wash away the clammy stickiness of the day. There had been a prospect of a date with a guy she had met on Tinder, but after the first encounter with him, she hadn’t been that keen. Instead, she decided to have a relaxing night by herself in front of the TV. She had a box set lined up and two bottles of her favourite South African Chardonnay in the fridge. She was just about to pour herself a second glass and open the Doritos when she heard the knock on the front door. Her hair still hung damply on her shoulders and she tugged on the hem of her nightshirt, conscious of how she must have appeared. ‘I was talking to your mum yesterday, she was okay then,’ she said.
‘Yeah, yeah, Mum’s fine, her carer just arrived before I left,’ Josh fumbled with his phone, sliding his finger back and forth on the screen trying to avoid the missed calls. There were three from Abbie, which wasn’t surprising considering what he had said to her before he had stormed out, one from his dad and a text message from his mum that said to ring her as soon as he was free. ‘But she’s fine,’ it took all his willpower to stop his eyes from wandering down her bare legs to her red painted toenails and undressing her with his eyes. He clasped his hands together forcing himself to look elsewhere.
‘Oh, okay.’ Sarah answered glancing at the kitchen clock behind Josh’s head. ‘So why are you really here?’
‘I didn’t know where else to go, I wanted to talk to you about Dad moving back in,’ he dropped his head feeling awkward that he had said it out loud.
‘You do?’ Sarah scratched her head, ‘does your mother know that you’re here?’
‘I’m not a child, Sarah.’ Sarah was perceptive, always had been and when the notion first entered his head to call and talk to Sarah about what was on his mind, he had thought it a good idea. Now he wasn’t so sure.
‘I’m not saying that you’re a child, Josh, I’m just wondering if she knows that you are here, that’s all.’
‘I just…’ Josh shook his head and exhaled into his hands. ‘Jesus, it’s warm in here,’ he took up a place mat from the countertop and fanned himself, trying to cool down. He wasn’t sure whether it was the temperature of the kitchen, the fifteen-minute walk he had just taken or the fact that he was beginning to feel embarrassed that made his cheeks redden.
‘Yeah, the heat’s been building up all day,’ she pointed to the window over the sink, referring to the humidity. There had been an unbroken spell of much-needed dry and warm weather for the previous three weeks, which had given Dublin an almost Mediterranean feel. ‘Will you reach that window?’ she asked, conscious that if she reached for it herself that her nightshirt would have ridden up her leg even further, showing Josh a sight that she didn’t want him to see.
‘No, it’s grand,’ Josh said, I’ll just take my jumper off instead.’ He hadn’t wanted to cause a fuss so crossed his arms over his body, unfolded the hoodie over his head and hung it on the stool beside him, the T-shirt he was wearing underneath clung to his own sticky skin.
‘Anyway,’ Sarah asked drawing Josh back to where he had left off. ‘You were saying, you just what?’
‘I just wasn’t thinking, I realise now that I shouldn’t have called unannounced,’ his eyes scanned her up and down. ‘And I should just go back home, check on mum.’ He cleared his throat awkwardly.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, you’re here now, it’s fine.’ Sarah crinkled her forehead. ‘I just wasn’t expecting anyone, that’s all,’ she looked at him for a moment trying to decipher what was going on in his head. The frown line across his forehead seemed almost too deep for someone of his age. ‘Don’t mind me,’ she attempted a smile. ‘You don’t need to leave,’ she opened the fridge and took out the bottle of wine to pour herself a second glass. ‘Can I get you a coke or something?’ she asked after she had taken the first gulp.
‘A coke?’ he sniffed, the reference to him being a child annoying him once again. Even his mum thought of him as older, allowing him to drink a couple of cans with the rest of the boys at their house parties. ‘You do realise that mum knows I drink at sessions and stuff.’
‘Sessions?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, house parties, free gaffs,’ he explained. ‘I’m practically eighteen.’
‘Well for a start, practically is not actually, so that argument won’t hold up in court,’ she grinned. ‘And this is no,’ she made speech marks with her fingers in the air, ‘free session,’ she added. She had been at a wedding recently with Jenny, Abbie and Josh when Jenny had allowed Josh to have a drink, justifying it the way most parents of young adults had done: it was better that the teenagers drank with them than behind their backs.
‘Free gaff you mean,’ Josh laughed. ‘Seriously though, any chance there’s another one of them?’ he pointed to the glass she was holding to her lips with a cheeky grin on his face.
‘What do you think?’ Sarah laughed, holding her hand out for the hoodie he had just taken off. ‘Your hoodie’s damp,’ she explained, ‘I’ll put in the dryer while you’re sitting there.’ She didn’t wait for an agreement and picked up Josh’s hoodie and brought it to the utility room just off the kitchen giving Josh a moment to catch his breath. ‘And while that’s on,’ the noise of the dryer hummed gently in the background. ‘I’m just going to nip upstairs and put something else on, I not exactly dressed for visitors, be back in a minute,’ she added. ‘Okay?’
‘Okay.’ Josh watched her walk away. It was hard not to let his imagination get carried away. Sarah Barry was a perfectly gorgeous, half-naked, fit-looking woman despite the fact that she was over twice his age. It was unusual enough seeing her with her hair down, never mind with barely anything on.
‘And get yourself a coke, will you?’ she called from the hall, there’s chilled ones in the fridge I think.’ When he knew she was upstairs he picked up her wine glass and gulped the contents back in one go before he refilled it again and gulped that one back too. There had been just enough left in the bottle to refill it one more time before he heard Sarah’s footsteps on the landing upstairs. Then, to take the smell of the wine from his breath, he took a can of coke from the fridge and swigged that back too. By the time she had come back down, this time wearing a pair of leggings and an oversized T-shirt, he had knocked back two glasses of wine, a can of coke, had opened a second can and was sitting at the kitchen table.
‘Okay, do you want to tell me what’s going on?’ Sarah, slightly breathless from having rushed back downstairs to get back to their conversation, grabbed her glass and sat opposite to him at the table.
‘You know this is really happening?’ his voice was almost inaudible, his face flushed with a combination of the alcohol he had just consumed and the adrenaline that was swelling through his veins. He had to place his hand on his knee under the table to keep his leg still.
‘What’s happening, Josh?’ her shoulders tensed a little seeing him so agitated.
‘Everything,’ he lifted the can of coke to his mouth to take a gulp before he spoke. ‘I just don’t want that prick moving back in tomorrow to take up exactly where he left off two years ago… it’s as though he’s some fucking saint or something, which we both know he is not.’ He sniffed in disgust.
‘Josh,’ Sarah didn’t know what to say or which part of Josh’s rage to address first. If Jenny had been there it would have been his bad language, but chastising a nearly eighteen-year-old boy about his language seemed futile. Besides, there was a small part of her enjoying the fact that she wasn’t the only one who felt that way about Liam. ‘You shouldn’t be talking about your dad like that,’ she settled for a cliché.
‘Should I not?’ Josh gulped. ‘That wanker stopped being my dad the day he walked out on us, on Mum, and he thinks that he can just waltz back in here two years later and tell me what to do?’ he reached for his can of coke and swigged another mouthful. Had she not been there he would have finished off the wine. ‘Where the fuck was he when Mum’s legs wouldn’t work and she couldn’t get up the stairs?’ His voice quivered under the strain of emotion that was welling up uncontrollably inside him.
‘Josh…’ Sarah had never seen him so irate.
‘I’ll tell you where he was, he was up…’ he paused searching for a better word. Using the word ‘fucking’ in front of Sarah would have been a step too far. ‘He was up doing that Alex Kennedy, without even a thought for Mum or what she was going through, the prick.’ His anger at his dad had got the better of him and his heart thumped loudly in his chest. He had been annoyed with his dad before but with the prospect of him moving back into Oakley Drive the next morning, his anger had gone off the scale. ‘He’s a lowlife, a selfish scumbag and mum deserves better. I mean, what type of man leaves their wife just because she’s not well?’
‘But I thought,’ Sarah hesitated. She had heard from Jenny about Josh’s theory before. Josh was convinced that Liam had known that his mum was terminally ill before he left and it hurt him so much that he left anyway. Sarah had had her suspicions too, but Jenny had always denied that that was the case. ‘Your mum said that she hadn’t told your dad that she was unwell.’
‘She shouldn’t have had to tell him… I knew, you knew, Abbie knew, we had all seen that something was wrong with Mum. We had all seen how tired she was getting and that she was always taking to her bed.’ His chest rose as he inhaled stretching the fabric in his T-shirt even thinner. ‘Mum might not have been diagnosed at that time but we all knew that whatever was going on wasn’t going to be good and he just jumped ship like the rat that he is and left us all on our own.’
‘But I thought you two were doing okay – now, I mean.’ Josh’s relationship with his dad had taken a nosedive the day Liam had moved out and Jenny and Liam had worked tirelessly to rebuild it again. It had improved somewhat, but Liam moving back in just seemed to rake up the old anger that he had once felt towards his dad and this time it didn’t seem as though he could get past it.
‘It’d be fine if he just stayed where he is.’ He said. ‘And all Mum can say is that “it’s for the best” – for the fucking best!’ he exclaimed, exhaling loudly and dropping his head into his hands. ‘She won’t listen to reason, no matter when I try and talk to her,’ he sighed heavily. ‘She smiles and pats my hand as though I’m some imbecile child who doesn’t understand the adult conversation and I’m telling you now, if that prick moves in tomorrow, I’m moving out—’ his rant was interrupted by Sarah’s doorbell sounding in the hall.
‘Just…’ She wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Just wait there a minute will you,’ she shook her head and closed the kitchen door behind her before she answered the door. It was a minute later when she came back in. ‘Just a delivery,’ she said.
‘Oh,’ Josh’s eyes glanced at the kitchen clock. ‘Because if you’re expecting someone, I can go.’ He pushed his chair back from the table, agitated.
‘No, not at all.’ She placed her hand on his shoulder, gently keeping him where he was. ‘Now,’ she waited until he pulled his chair back to the table before she sat back down. ‘Where were we?’ she took another sip of her wine trying to refocus on what Josh had just said. ‘Look, I get it, I know that you’re upset and I know that it’s just been the three of you ever since your dad left and I know that you have been the rock for both your mum and Abbie,’ she waited while he drank from his can of coke. ‘But your mum still needs you Josh, your mum would be lost without you, so would Abbie. It would kill your mother all together if you weren’t there.’ She knew he would never leave, but she wanted to demonstrate how important he was. He was bound to feel threatened. He had taken the role of the man of the house very seriously when his dad had first moved out and now with his dad returning he was probably feeling like he was no longer of use. It was only human to lash out when faced with a threat.
‘Well, do you think he should get to move back in,’ he poised his fingers in quotation marks and sneered mimicking his dad’s deeper voice, ‘to help mum, make it up to her and us, for all the hurt he’s caused and be a proper dad to me and Abbie?’ The question hovered like a wasp between them, threatening to sting them both. She wanted to agree with him, tell him she felt exactly the same, but wasn’t sure that she could. Should she tell him what she really thought?