Second Chances Read Online Free PDF Page A

persevered. ‘Ivan Jones, the garden gnome. Plays the timpani in her orchestra. He looks uncannily like something you’d find cross-legged on a lily pad.’
    ‘Does he wear a hoodie?’
    I opened my hands, mystified. ‘Nope! No ponytail, no tattoos. Not so much as an earring. Nothing remotely rebellious. What a codswalloping yawn. He won’t get her pregnant or hooked on heroin, but what’s he got to offer a girl like Sacha?’
    ‘Perhaps he’s fascinating, if you happen to be sixteen.’
    ‘Can’t see it, myself. He’s got a silly little beard and a pink VW Beetle.’
    Lou shrugged. ‘Well, there you are, then. Wheels.’
    ‘He’s hypnotically boring, Lou. Sits there piggling at his fingernails.’
    ‘Why worry? He’ll be gone by next week.’ She balanced her cigarette in an ashtray and began to chop onions for tomato salad. ‘I wish I had a Sacha—cheerful, competent and permanently available for babysitting.’
    ‘Ah, but you wouldn’t have enjoyed telling Mum you were pregnant at the age of twenty-one, and not a father in sight.’
    ‘My virginal bridesmaid, rolling along in that vile maternity dress. The shame !’
    I forced a laugh. It wasn’t a happy memory. ‘She’d have put me in one of those Irish laundries if she could have.’
    Slamming down her knife, Lou began to massage her temples. ‘Martha, don’t go. Why are you doing this? Aren’t we enough for you?’
    I’d never refused my sister anything. I could feel knots tightening in my stomach.
    ‘You’ll never go through with it,’ she said suddenly. ‘You haven’t told Dad or the McNamara clan. It’ll never happen.’ With a sharp little nod of denial, she held out her salad. ‘C’mon, enough nonsense! Grab this. I’ll go and find Philip.’
    I didn’t move. ‘I’ve signed a contract,’ I said sadly. ‘It’s a private rehab unit just outside a city called Napier. Head injury and spinal. I had an interview with an agency in London. I’ve . . . Lou, I’ve already given notice at work.’
    She froze for a second before ramming the bowl into my midriff. ‘I wish I knew what you’re trying to prove,’ she snapped, and flounced off.
    I trailed outside. It was only just beginning to sink in, what we were doing. The enormity of it left me dizzy. Finn and Charlie ran past me to join their cousins who were splashing in and out of a paddling pool, dicing with hypothermia.
    Kit was lounging against the barbecue where Louisa had sent him, one hand in a pocket, sizzling sausages. ‘How’d she take it?’ he asked, and chuckled sympathetically when I imitated the face from The Scream.
    As if on cue, Lou swept from the house, followed by her husband. ‘Philip’s appalled,’ she said, her voice brassy with hurt.
    My brother-in-law threw me one reproachful glance as he lowered himself into a deckchair and proceeded to scuba dive in the merlot. Philip was a young man when I first knew him, with copper eyelashes and a Captain Kirk grin. We go back too far; met while I was training and had a practice placement in the unit where he was a psychologist. I introduced him to Lou, God help me. Seventeen years on there’s half the sandy hair, double the chins and plenty of regret. He works in industry, doing isometric testing on ostensibly sane people. Must be pretty depressing.
    ‘So.’ He made his fingers skip along the chair’s arm. ‘The rats are scurrying from the sinking ship.’
    ‘Rats, are we?’ Kit laughed. It was a long time since I’d seen him so carefree. His eyes seemed almost electric blue. ‘Don’t beat around the bush, Philip. If you’re not entirely impressed, why not say so?’
    ‘Your scheme is hare-brained. What are your children going to be— Irish? English? New Zealanders?’
    ‘Happy,’ retorted Kit. ‘Untroubled. Unhurried. Uncrowded.’
    ‘Uneducated and uncultured.’
    ‘Ooh, you old snob!’ I wrapped a towel around Charlie, who’d bumped his nose and was screaming loud enough to rouse my