Putting Out the Stars Read Online Free PDF Page B

curry. She’d never gone along with that nonsense about matching red wine with red meat, and
Cian wasn’t a bit fussy either.
    As she lifted the saucepan lid and gave the curry a last stir, she imagined Cecily’s horror at the thought of serving white wine with beef. She thought of Andrew’s new wife –
what was her name again? – having to live with her mother-in-law. Cecily was harmless enough really, but the notion of sharing a home with her was pretty intimidating – all that best
flowery china and Waterford crystal, having to say excuse me when all you did was cough, using a special little fork to eat a slice of cake, for God’s sake. Breffni pictured Cian’s face
if she handed him a fork with his cake – he’d get a great laugh, before he picked up the slice and took a big bite out of it.
    She was tipping the rice into a warm bowl as he came into the kitchen, sniffing the air. ‘Mmm – smells fantastic.’ She smiled at him. Such a pet – he loved his food, was
always so appreciative – and God knew she’d had her share of culinary disasters since they started living together. She remembered two thick fish cutlets that were beautifully grilled
on the outside and still perfectly raw in the middle, leathery omelettes, lumpy or cement-thick sauces, and one unforgettable dried-out roast chicken complete with giblets. She was still no Delia
Smith, but at least she’d managed not to poison him while she was getting the hang of a few recipes. Poor Cian.
    He went to the sink and washed his hands. ‘Did you manage much work today?’
    She nodded. ‘Finished it, finally. I’ll send it off tomorrow.’ She freelanced as a proofreader for a few businesses, including a medium-sized publishing house based in the
midlands. When they’d moved back from San Francisco, and Cian was hunting around for an accountancy job, Breffni had got a call from her mother one day.
    ‘I’ve some work for you, pet – nice and easy, just up your alley.’
    Breffni was half-amused, half-indignant. ‘Ma, I’m not looking for work – have you forgotten I’m heavily pregnant? This is my – what do they call it? – my
confinement. I have to take things easy.’
    Her mother’s snort came clearly down the line. ‘Confinement, my foot; you sound like something out of Jane Austen. You’re not even five months gone, and you’re hardly
showing. You’re not sick, your ankles aren’t swollen, you haven’t even got any food cravings.’
    ‘I like Smarties and salt-and-vinegar Taytos together.’
    ‘You’ve liked that since you were nine. And have you forgotten, my girl, that you’ve no money coming in, and a baby on the way? Cian hasn’t found a job yet, has
he?’
    ‘Well no, but he has –’
    Her mother sailed on. ‘So you’ve a baby coming and nobody earning. And I know you brought a bit of money home with you from America, but it’ll go fast over here – you
must have noticed how dear everything has got since you left.’
    Breffni had to admit the truth of that. ‘But Ma, I can’t start a job now – not when I’d be looking for maternity leave so soon.’
    ‘Ah, but it’s not a job like that – it’s just a bit of reading really. You know how you always loved English at school? You were great at spellings and grammar and things
like that.’
    ‘Well, I suppose I liked it, but –’
    ‘So you know Orla Keyes’ daughter Rebecca – the middle girl – is in her final year in UCG?’ Orla and Breffni’s mother had been close friends for years.
‘She’s just finished her thesis and needs someone to go though it, tidy it up a bit. I told Orla you might have a look at it. And they’d pay; she said they’d insist on
paying.’
    Breffni didn’t want to admit that it did sound tempting – something she could do at home, in her own time. ‘What’s the subject?’
    ‘No idea – give her a ring and find out. Here’s her number.’
    So Breffni had said she’d look into it, knowing that she