did it whether Jane was there or not. She sniffed the plate.
“Just eat the eggs,” Kurt said.
Rose took a forkful and popped it into her mouth, rubbed her tummy, and made a “yum” sound. Kurt laughed.
“How’s Irene?” she asked.
“She’s good,” he said, and he sat down. “Better; she’ll be fine.”
His grandmother nodded and winked at him. “Of course she will. So her father’s an ass. She has you, doesn’t she? So, is your mother still determined to go to the Walsh household tonight with Alexandra’s husband?”
“She’s dreading it.”
“Of course she’s dreading it. The Walshes have always and ever been complete lunatics. Alexandra was the cheekiest pup I ever met. The mother is one of those holier-than-thou types, the father hasn’t done a real day’s work since the seventies, and as for her brother, Eamonn, that little snot was trying to get into your mother’s pants when she was thirteen!” She stopped and took a breath. “And anyway she has no business there—the family is grieving the loss of a child.”
“She’s missing, not dead,” Kurt reminded his grandmother.
“Of course she’s dead,” Rose said. “She’s Valley-of-the-Dead dead.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know this: if someone vanishes without a trace in this day and age, she is buried somewhere, and it’s usually someone closest to her who’s done the burying. For all we know, your mother’s next.”
Kurt laughed at his gran. “Now I know where Elle gets her imagination.”
“Mark my words. Your mother is getting herself involved in something very bloody sinister there.” She pushed the remaining food on her plate to the side and put down her fork. “I’m finished.”
Kurt told his grandmother about his run-in with his mother, expressing how annoyed he was that she was punishing him for something he had done eight months previously. For once his grandmother was on his mother’s side; she felt that anyone who jumped out of a perfectly good plane deserved to be crippled for life. Having said that, she felt that Jane’s withdrawal of funds was an overreaction, bearing in mind what night it was.
“How much do you need?” she asked.
“Seventy?” Kurt said, knowing full well he was pressing his luck.
“Fifty it is,” she responded.
Rose took fifty euros out of her handbag and handed it to him.
“Cheers, Gran!”
She waved him away. He left the basement flat, and she watched him through her window as he turned on his iPod, searched for some noise, pressed Play, and walked down the street while probably deafening himself. Kids are mad, she thought. Then she picked up the open bottle of red wine that was resting against her chair. She drained her teacup of tea and poured in the wine. She took a sip and smiled. Happy New Year, Rose.
4
“So Far Gone”
I’m so far gone that it seems like home to me.
I’m so far gone, have I lost my way or am I free?
Jack L, Universe
It was just after eight thirty on New Year’s Eve when Leslie got off the train, returning from the family bungalow she owned in the country. Her apartment was located conveniently beside the train station, so she wheeled her suitcase past all those queuing for a taxi, turned the corner, and she was home.
In the lift, she heard crashing and banging, and it became louder the closer she got to her floor. She exited and walked toward a bunch of five people whom she recognized as neighbors. They were blocking the way, so she mumbled “Excuse me.” They didn’t notice, as they were wrapped up in what was going on around the corner. It was then that Leslie noticed a fireman. He was standing in front of the group as though he was there to hold them back. Leslie couldn’t smell any fire. She said “Excuse me” again, but this time the banging was louder.
One of the girls whom she recognized but didn’t know turned to her and looked her up and down. “Oh shit,” she said, “she’s here!”
Leslie wasn’t one for
“Just eat the eggs,” Kurt said.
Rose took a forkful and popped it into her mouth, rubbed her tummy, and made a “yum” sound. Kurt laughed.
“How’s Irene?” she asked.
“She’s good,” he said, and he sat down. “Better; she’ll be fine.”
His grandmother nodded and winked at him. “Of course she will. So her father’s an ass. She has you, doesn’t she? So, is your mother still determined to go to the Walsh household tonight with Alexandra’s husband?”
“She’s dreading it.”
“Of course she’s dreading it. The Walshes have always and ever been complete lunatics. Alexandra was the cheekiest pup I ever met. The mother is one of those holier-than-thou types, the father hasn’t done a real day’s work since the seventies, and as for her brother, Eamonn, that little snot was trying to get into your mother’s pants when she was thirteen!” She stopped and took a breath. “And anyway she has no business there—the family is grieving the loss of a child.”
“She’s missing, not dead,” Kurt reminded his grandmother.
“Of course she’s dead,” Rose said. “She’s Valley-of-the-Dead dead.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know this: if someone vanishes without a trace in this day and age, she is buried somewhere, and it’s usually someone closest to her who’s done the burying. For all we know, your mother’s next.”
Kurt laughed at his gran. “Now I know where Elle gets her imagination.”
“Mark my words. Your mother is getting herself involved in something very bloody sinister there.” She pushed the remaining food on her plate to the side and put down her fork. “I’m finished.”
Kurt told his grandmother about his run-in with his mother, expressing how annoyed he was that she was punishing him for something he had done eight months previously. For once his grandmother was on his mother’s side; she felt that anyone who jumped out of a perfectly good plane deserved to be crippled for life. Having said that, she felt that Jane’s withdrawal of funds was an overreaction, bearing in mind what night it was.
“How much do you need?” she asked.
“Seventy?” Kurt said, knowing full well he was pressing his luck.
“Fifty it is,” she responded.
Rose took fifty euros out of her handbag and handed it to him.
“Cheers, Gran!”
She waved him away. He left the basement flat, and she watched him through her window as he turned on his iPod, searched for some noise, pressed Play, and walked down the street while probably deafening himself. Kids are mad, she thought. Then she picked up the open bottle of red wine that was resting against her chair. She drained her teacup of tea and poured in the wine. She took a sip and smiled. Happy New Year, Rose.
4
“So Far Gone”
I’m so far gone that it seems like home to me.
I’m so far gone, have I lost my way or am I free?
Jack L, Universe
It was just after eight thirty on New Year’s Eve when Leslie got off the train, returning from the family bungalow she owned in the country. Her apartment was located conveniently beside the train station, so she wheeled her suitcase past all those queuing for a taxi, turned the corner, and she was home.
In the lift, she heard crashing and banging, and it became louder the closer she got to her floor. She exited and walked toward a bunch of five people whom she recognized as neighbors. They were blocking the way, so she mumbled “Excuse me.” They didn’t notice, as they were wrapped up in what was going on around the corner. It was then that Leslie noticed a fireman. He was standing in front of the group as though he was there to hold them back. Leslie couldn’t smell any fire. She said “Excuse me” again, but this time the banging was louder.
One of the girls whom she recognized but didn’t know turned to her and looked her up and down. “Oh shit,” she said, “she’s here!”
Leslie wasn’t one for
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