Free The Name I Call Myself by Beth Moran

again. “I think the guest of honour has some explaining to do.”
    Yep. Mission failed.

Chapter Five
    Sam called me at least twice a day. I usually dropped by his flat three or four times a week, but had left it longer than usual this time due to work shifts, an HCC committee meeting, and a need to summon up enough strength to face the beast of his illness again.
    I found him up, which was surprising, and dressed, which was near miraculous. Sprawled on the sofa, yes, but the flat wasn’t quite as messy as it had been, and he held a cup of tea.
    â€œHow are you, Sam?”
    He lay back, staring at the ceiling. “I’m losing it, Sis. Waving goodbye to all the lovely money your billionaire boyfriend spent on my rehab. Poof, gone.”
    â€œHave you taken your meds?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWell that’s something.” We sat there in silence. I reached out and took hold of my brother’s hand, the spectre of Kane leering over our shoulders.
    â€œApril’s still here, then?”
    He nodded. “She’s driving me crazy. Nagging all the time. Fussing.”
    â€œDoes she drink?”
    He shrugged. “Not much. Not any more.” He sighed. “I don’t want to be saved, Faith. I wish she’d leave me alone. I’ve told her to go and find a man who wants looking after.”
    â€œBut she stays.”
    â€œShe’s a fool.”
    â€œWhere is she now?” I glanced around, but could see no sign of her.
    â€œI don’t know. Jobcentre.”
    I took the mug from his hand, pushing aside some old food cartons to place it on the stained coffee table. “Is there anything you need me to do?”
    He closed his eyes. “No. The nurse is coming later on.”
    â€œTry and help yourself, Sam. Don’t let him do this to you.”
    He laughed. An ugly, hollow sound. “He already did.”

    The following Thursday, I took Perry to look around Grace Chapel. A couple of nights earlier we had managed a serious – well, serious-ish – conversation over dinner.
    â€œI don’t understand why you need to do that work.”
    â€œWhat do you want me to do? Live off benefits? I need a job, Perry.”
    â€œI want you to marry me and let me take care of you. If we’re going to be legally joined anyway, why not set up a joint bank account now? You’ve got enough to worry about with the wedding and Sam. Let me take care of the finances.”
    â€œI need to be earning my own money. I know it’s hardly anything, and the work is a slog and embarrasses your family, but I need some independence. That is non-negotiable. Plus, if I don’t work I’m going to end up bored out of my mind. Planning a wedding and being on the HCC committee isn’t a full-time occupation. I’m not about to spend my life having manicures, planning centrepieces, and shopping. It’s not me.”
    â€œCouldn’t you find something better, though? You used to manage the whole events team at the club. Why go back to being just a waitress?”
    â€œOkay. Firstly, there is no such thing as just a waitress . Being awaitress saved my life. Secondly, I can’t manage the responsibility of a full-time job with Sam. This works. I choose this. Please respect my choice.”
    I hadn’t told Perry I had no qualifications, or that HCC had told me to resign or be sacked, with the promise of no references. I felt ashamed of both those things, and to begin to explain the reasons why would open a truckload of worms I didn’t want to go near.
    â€œYou’re right. I’m sorry. It just seems pathetic for you to have to work a double shift to earn what I can make in less than an hour.”
    â€œThanks. That makes me feel better.”
    â€œSorry! I’m sorry.” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “You are an amazing, intelligent, talented woman and I hate thinking about how that catering manager