Free The One I Love by Anna McPartlin

drunken son was the least of her worries.
    “Did you say ‘arrested’?” she asked, silently praying she’d misheard him.
    He nodded.
    She swung her legs around, sat on the edge of the bed and held her head in her hands. “Oh, for fu–” she said, then sighed a sigh that seemed to come from her very core. “Where is she?”
    “Clontarf.”
    “Clontarf,” she repeated, and got out of bed. “And why not? Clontarf is as good as any place to get arrested.”
    Kurt watched his mother talk to herself and bump into things while trying to locate something to wear. She said “ouch” twice and “for fu–” a number of times before he took his leave so that she could get dressed.
    Jane entered the sitting room in search of her handbag. Kurt and his girlfriend Irene were lying on the sofa together, listening to music.
    “Hi, Jane,” Irene said, with a grin that suggested she had imbibed one too many alcopops.
    “Hi, Irene,” she said. “Does your mother know where you are?”
    “She’s in Venice,” Irene said, slurring a little.
    “Nice.”
    “Not really,” Irene said. “She found out that Dad was sleeping with some woman he met on the Internet and she’s gone over there to spend as much of his money as possible before she kicks him out of the house.”
    “Oh, my God, that’s awful,” Jane said, truly shocked and momentarily forgetting her sister was in a jail cell. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine.” Irene waved her hands dismissively.
    “Well, if things get a bit rough at home you can always come and stay here – in the spare room, not Kurt’s.”
    “Ah, Jane, that is so nice of you, thank you.” She burped. “Excuse you!” she said, pointing at Jane, then burst out laughing. Kurt laughed too.
    Jane raised her eyes to heaven and grabbed her bag but before she left she stood in front of the pair, wagging her finger. “No sex in here, no sex in your room, no sex in this entire house. And don’t think I won’t know because I will know.” She left the room.
    Irene looked at Kurt and wagged her finger. “And yet she didn’t cop that we’ve just done it on this sofa.”
    Jane heard them laugh as she exited the house. Of course they’re laughing. It’s four in the morning, they’re seventeen, drunk and awake, and they’ve probably had more sex in the past five hours than I’ve had in two years .
    Once in the police station Jane waited for more than two hours before she even got to speak to someone. It was then she was informed that her sister faced possible charges on counts of theft and arson. Jane closed her eyes and didn’t speak for what seemed to be the longest time. The policeman queried as to whether or not she was all right.
    “I hate my life,” she said.
    “I know the feeling.”
    After that she sat in the waiting area for another hour. She was freezing and tired and so pissed off that she actually wanted to weep. The man beside her smelt of feet and the woman opposite stared at her in a manner that suggested she might wish to hurt her. Jane would have loved to be bold enough to square up to the stranger and demand of her an explanation as to what she wanted, but she didn’t have the balls. The story of my life , she thought, keeping her head hung low to avoid her aggressive opposite’s gaze.
    Elle appeared a little after eight o’clock. She was yawning and stretching. She grinned when she saw Jane, who stood up, grabbed her sister’s arm and dragged her out of the station.
    “Do not grin, do not speak, do not even bollocking whimper!” she ordered Elle, who seemed to be veering between alarm and amusement. “I am cold and tired and I’ve just about had it up to here. So shut up.”
    “Okay,” Elle agreed.
    They sat into the car. Jane started the engine.
    “Can I smoke?” Elle asked.
    “Shut up,” Jane said.
    “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” said Elle, lighting up.
    Jane drove in silence. Elle smoked and stared out of the window. When they were less than a