Free The Story of Before by Susan Stairs Page B

It’s only Shayne. She won’t mind.’
    ‘Oh yes she will. She said no one.’
    ‘Shut up you,’ he said and Shayne smiled, stuck his tongue out at me and punched Mel on the arm. Mel gave him a playful push and then Sandra appeared, her eyes lighting up. She bit
at her bottom lip and went all stupid, as if she’d lost any bit of sense that she had. Kev continued to cry, his face growing redder by the second and I groaned as I made my way upstairs. Mel
and Shayne continued hitting each other in a sort of mock fight while Sandra looked on, mesmerized. I was just on the top step when I heard a familiar voice.
    ‘It’s only me! I have something nice for you to share.’ It was Bridie. She stepped into the hall wearing an ivy-patterned apron over her turquoise trouser suit and carrying a
doily-covered plate that held a pyramid of deep-pink meringues, each one sandwiched together with a squelch of thick cream. ‘Thought you children might like a few of these,’ she said,
waving the plate under Sandra’s nose. ‘Made two-dozen this afternoon, I did. And would you believe they didn’t have caster sugar in Mealy’s? Had to knock into the presbytery
and borrow some from Father Feely’s housekeeper. Remind me to drop a plate of them into him before mass tomorrow, Ruth.’ She looked around the hall. ‘Ruth? Where’s
Ruth?’
    ‘Up here, Bridie,’ I whispered from the top of the stairs.
    ‘There you are! I should’ve known you’d be the one trying to settle your baby brother. The poor mite. I heard him screaming the place down and I knew your mammy and daddy were
out so I—’ She stopped mid-sentence when she realized Shayne was there. She looked him up and down. ‘And what are you doing here?’
    Shayne made a face at her and she stiffened, her bosoms expanding as she breathed heavily up through her nose. I crept quickly to the bedroom and settled Kev back into his cot. I gave him a kiss
and stroked his cheek and I knew it wouldn’t be long till he fell asleep again. I closed the door and heard some sort of a scuffle coming from the hall. I got to the top step just in time to
see Bridie making a lunge at Shayne. He laughed in her face, ducking out of her way, but his elbow caught the edge of the plate in her hand. She tried to steady it but it was no use – I
watched, almost in slow motion, as each and every one of her pink meringues slid off and landed on the floor with a plop. The doily followed, floating gently through the air like a crocheted flying
saucer before coming to rest on the bristles of the welcome mat inside our front door.
    Shayne sniggered. Sandra dug her tooth even harder into her lip and cast her eyes up to the ceiling. Mel looked down at the pile of broken meringues and splattered cream, his shoulders slumped
in grief at the sheer waste of it all. I understood his despair; we’d been so close to such a plate of treats. Even though they were ruined now, they looked so good: the cream whipped to
exactly the right thickness, the broken, crispy shells revealing a sticky, marshmallow-type goo that would’ve been absolutely melt-in-the-mouth divine.
    I wondered who’d be the first to speak. It was one of those moments where no one quite knew what to say. The doily fluttered in the breeze that blew in through the open door, before its
movement was killed by the stomp of a big brown shoe.
    It was Dad. With Mam behind him. Home early for some reason, their faces hard and stony even before they fully took in the scene. Dad frowned, his eyebrows becoming one long, black caterpillar.
He walked straight into the meringue mess before anyone could warn him.
    ‘What the . . . ?’ he said, lifting each of his feet in turn.
    I shrank back from the top of the stairs, not wanting to be part of whatever was about to happen. But Mam didn’t even ask for explanations. She took one look at Shayne and almost shouted,
‘Get out of here, you! You’ve no business being in our house.’
    Shayne