The Book of Tomorrow Read Online Free PDF Page A

She was bony, always dieting, had the same relationship with foodas she had with Dad; loved it but didn’t want it most of the time because she felt it was bad for her. I know this because I overheard a conversation she had with a friend at two a.m. on returning from a ladies’ lunch. But regarding the hugging, I think she just felt awkward having somebody physically so close. She wasn’t a comfortable person and so had no comfort to give anybody else. It’s like words of advice; you can’t give them unless you have them. I don’t think it meant she didn’t care. I never felt she didn’t care. Well, okay, maybe I did, a few times.
    Barbara and I stood on the side of the road embracing and crying while she apologised to me over and over again about how unfair this all was for me. When she’d pulled over, she’d left the car’s arse sticking out on the road and so every car that came round the corner blasted us with its horn, but we ignored them.
    The tension was released somewhat after that. You know the way storm clouds gather when there’s going to be rain—that’s what had been happening with us all the way from Killiney. It was all building, and finally it exploded. So feeling like we’d all had the chance to release at least a portion of our woes, we prepared ourselves for what lay ahead. Only we didn’t have time because as soon as we rounded the next turn we were there. Home sweet home. On the right-hand side stood a gate, and just inside it on the left, was a house. Rosaleen and Arthur were standing by the little green gate of their ‘Hansel and Gretel’ house and God knows how long they’d been waiting there. We were almost an hour late. If they were pretending not to look worried about the whole thing, then it must have been near impossible when they saw our faces. Not knowing we were so close to the house we hadn’t enough time to compose ourselves. My and Barbara’s eyes were red raw from crying, Mum was in the front seatwith a look of thunder on her face and my hair was high in tatters—well, more tattered than usual.
    I never thought about how difficult that moment must have been for Arthur and Rosaleen. I was so busy thinking about myself and how much I didn’t want to be there, I didn’t once think about how they were opening their home to two people they had no relationship with. It must have been so unbelievably nerve-racking for them and I didn’t thank them once.
    Barbara and I got out of the car. She went to the boot to sort out the bags, and I assume give us all a moment to greet. That didn’t quite happen. I stood there looking at Arthur and Rosaleen, who were still standing behind the little green swinging gate and I immediately wished I’d dropped bread-crumbs all the way from Killiney so I could find my way home.
    Rosaleen looked from one of us to another like a meerkat, trying to take in the SUV, Mum, me, Barbara, all at once. She clasped her hands at her front, but kept unlocking them to smooth down her dress as though she were at a Lovely Girl competition in a country feis . Mum finally opened the door and got out of the car. She stepped onto the gravel and looked up at the house. Then her anger disappeared and she smiled, revealing puce lipstick on her front teeth.
    ‘Arthur.’ She held out her arms as though she had just opened the door to her home and was welcoming him to a dinner party.
    He snot-snorted, inhaling the mucus—the first time I’d heard it—which made my lip curl in disgust. He stepped towards Mum and she took his hands and looked at him, her head tilted, that strange smile still pulling at her lips like a bad face-lift. In an awkward movement she leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. Arthur stayed there a millisecond longer than I thought he would, then patted theback of her neck and pulled away from her. He patted me hard on the head as if I was his faithful collie, which messed my hair even more, and then made his way to the boot to