Girl Unknown(29)

‘That’s mine,’ Robbie told her.

‘He’s in the National Youth Orchestra,’ Caroline said proudly. ‘You should hear him play some time.’

‘He thinks he’s Yo-Yo Ma,’ Holly said, with a smirk.

Robbie told her to shut up, and she pushed her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose. It was the first time she’d spoken since Zo? had entered the house.

‘I love the cello,’ Zo? told him. ‘Can you play that Elgar piece?’

Robbie leaned his elbows on the table and gave her a half-grin. ‘Not really. I’m trying to learn it but it’s, like, super-hard.’

‘We played it at my mam’s funeral – not a live performance, just on the stereo. Still – it was beautiful.’

No one said anything. I had a groundless feeling at the thought of Linda dead in a box, the room swelling with the sound of those melancholy strings.

‘Sorry to hear about your mum,’ Robbie said quietly.

‘Thanks.’

‘It must have been shit,’ he added.

‘It was,’ she said, a little distressed, ‘but I’ve been busy since it happened, moving down here and starting college.’

‘What about your family in Belfast?’ Caroline asked.

Zo? brushed the hair from her eyes, ‘Well, there’s just Gary – he’s my stepfather.’

‘He must miss you.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Oh?’ I asked, surprised by the change in her manner. ‘Why not?’

‘We don’t really get on.’

‘You don’t?’

She thought about it, no doubt aware of the weight of our stares. ‘I dunno. We never kind of hit it off.’

‘When did he and your mother marry?’ Caroline asked.

Zo? shifted in her chair: ‘When I was six.’ She picked up her fork and fiddled with it. After a moment’s hesitation, she continued: ‘He was nice at first – always buying me sweets and toys and that. But after a while, he just got bored of me.’

‘That’s awful,’ I said.

Caroline asked: ‘He and Linda had no children together?’

‘No. I think Gary really wanted to have kids of his own, but when it didn’t happen, he just grew despondent. Kind of jealous, too.’

‘Jealous?’ I asked.

‘Of me and Mam. Our closeness. Especially towards the end, when she was sick.’

‘It must have been very difficult for you,’ Caroline offered, but I was more interested in the jealousy she had mentioned. There was something beneath the strained politeness, something she wasn’t saying that worried me: I didn’t like the sound of Gary one bit.

‘Your stepfather,’ I said, ‘do you hear much from him?’

She shook her head. ‘Not since I came down to college. I think he’s glad to have me out from under his feet.’ Then, almost as an afterthought: ‘I’m glad to be out from under his feet, too.’

‘Really?’ I asked.

‘The way he used to go on sometimes, his temper …’

‘His temper?’

The question startled Zo?, as if she hadn’t realized she had spoken her thoughts aloud. ‘Maybe “temper” isn’t the right word. It’s more subtle than that. Oh, I don’t know,’ she said, dismissing her words with a wave of the hand.

‘Passive aggressive?’ I suggested.

She made a remark about how delicious the food had been. It was clear she didn’t want to discuss the matter further.

Caroline got up to make the coffee while Robbie cleared away the dishes. The topic was dropped, but I didn’t forget it, even when the conversation returned to safer subjects: Zo? and Robbie discussing the various bands they were into, what films they liked, Holly answering to what her favourite subjects were in school. All seemingly congenial chitchat, but there was still an almost palpable tension running through the blood of the conversation, like a contagion. Nothing, it seemed, not wine, light-hearted chat, or even dessert, could dispel it. Or maybe that was just the way I saw it because what she had said about Gary’s jealousy and temper stayed with me, and brought out in me a kind of protective zeal I had not expected to feel for her.

We finished our coffee, Robbie saying, ‘Can we go sit in the comfy chairs?’ and everyone got to their feet.

Caroline, clearing the last of the table, was reaching across to take Zo?’s cup when her hand brushed against the stem of my glass, which I had recently refilled. It toppled, sending out a splash of Burgundy, some of which hit Zo?’s midriff, the rest spilling over her placemat and dripping on to her lap. She leaped to her feet.

‘Oh, Christ!’ Caroline exclaimed. ‘I’m so sorry!’

‘Here,’ I said, handing Zo? a paper napkin.

‘It’s fine,’ she said, dabbing at her T-shirt.

‘God, I’m so clumsy,’ Caroline said. ‘Here, let me get you some soda water.’

‘It’s all right – really,’ she said, laughing to show it was no big deal. Her cheeks had pinked and she put the napkin on the table.

‘Do you want to borrow one of my T-shirts?’ Caroline offered.

‘Ah, no, thanks,’ she said, then gestured towards the door. ‘I’ll just go to the bathroom, give it a bit of a scrub. That’ll be enough.’