Free This Is Not Forgiveness by Celia Rees

Sophie. Did he run out on you? Leave you all on your own?’
    ‘Rob was out with the lads. I went with them.’
    ‘That must have been fun Alpha male stuff. Let’s see how much beer we can throw down our necks, then fight, fuck, curry and spew, not necessarily in that order.’
    ‘Fight is right. I found him outside the town hall. He’d been beaten up. He’s OK, thanks for asking. Lads looked after him. Don’t tell Mum. She’ll only worry.’
    Martha shrugs and goes back to the Review. ‘Oh.’ She looks up again. ‘Before I forget. You’ve got a fan.’
    My heart skips. Can she mean Caro? Can’t be. If they met, they’d be bound to blank each other. I’m thinking this, but still it could be. They could have bumped into one another. In the Ladies, say, redoing their make-up. Caro could have leaned over, asked to borrow a mascara, and said, ‘You know your brother? I think he’s really hot.’
    ‘Lee. She likes you.’
    I fiddle with the toaster controls to hide my disappointment.
    ‘She’s really, really nice,’ Martha goes on. ‘And attractive. Want me to put in a word? You could do a lot worse. Let me rephrase that slightly. You could do a lot worse. Oh, let me think, you have done a lot worse.’
    ‘’S OK. I’m good at the moment. Want to stay single.’
    She looks up. ‘And why’s that? Because of your burgeoning social life? Without Cal, you have no social life. Now him and Sophie are a “couple”.’ She sketches quotation marks. ‘Where does that leave you, Billy-No-Mates?’
    ‘I’m doing all right. If I want your match-making skills, I’ll ask.’
    ‘Or maybe you’re saving yourself.’ Her eyes light up. She’s on to it. You can’t get much past her. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? You’re saving yourself for the divine Caro!’
    ‘Don’t be stupid. I don’t even know her.’
    ‘But you’d like to, wouldn’t you? You’d like to know her really well. I knew it! You’re blushing!’ She holds up her hands pretending to warm herself. ‘No need to use the toaster!’
    This could go on all morning, but just then Mum comes struggling in through the back door, carting Sainsbury’s bags, Jack behind her. ‘Hello, you two,’ she says. I get up to help her put things away. Martha finishes her muesli.
    ‘Good night?’ Mum asks.
    ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘All right.’
    ‘Rob got into a fight,’ Martha says as she puts her bowl in the dishwasher.
    Mum freezes, her hand halfway into the fridge. Her expression changes from sunny Saturday morning to anxious. Any mention of Rob puts years on her. Unless it’s good news and it’s usually not good news.
    She leaves the fridge door swinging open and comes to the counter. Jack takes over putting stuff away.
    ‘Is he all right? How do you know? The police. The hospital. Did they call?’
    It has happened before. Sometimes the call doesn’t come until Saturday morning. Friday night being just too busy.
    ‘No, Jamie found him bleeding all over the pavement outside the town hall.’
    Mum turns to me, her brow furrowed. ‘What happened? Is he all right?’
    ‘Yes, he’s fine. He’d been in a bit of a fight. The lads took him back to Grandpa’s.’
    ‘Why don’t you go and see if he’s OK?’ She says this in a bright and breezy, what-a-good-idea kind of way.
    ‘Do I have to? It’s not exactly what I had planned and I’m working this afternoon!’
    I’ve had enough of Rob for the time being. I’m feeling bruised from the night before, and not just on my arm.
    ‘Please, Jamie. It’ll put my mind at rest and you know I can’t go.’
    ‘Oh, OK.’ I figure she’s got enough on her plate without me making her life more difficult. Besides, I’m spent up from last night and need to be in her good books.
    ‘You can take him these.’ She hands me a stack of ready-meals. ‘I’m worried he’s not eating properly.’
    ‘And those are “eating properly”?’ Martha raises an eyebrow.
    ‘It’s better than chips and