Free All That I Leave Behind by Alison Walsh

better.
    ‘MP, she’s not trying to upset you or me or anyone else,’ June said, more confidently than she felt. ‘She just wants to get married in the town where she grew up, and she wanted to see Daddy before, well—’
    At the mention of Daddy’s name, Mary-Pat shot forward and grabbed June’s arm. ‘She wants Daddy to come to the wedding, you know.’
    June felt the glass, slippery in her hands. She longed to take another big swig of the nasty wine, to find oblivion in Brides & Co. on South Anne Street. Anything but to have to listen to her sister. ‘Oh?’ she said carefully. ‘Have you told her what he’s like?’
    Mary-Pat shook her head. ‘She’s been in a couple of times, but he was knocked out with all the pills and now they have a vomiting bug, so no visitors are allowed, thank God. We have to keep her away from him,’ she added by way of explanation.
    ‘We do?’ June knew that Daddy wasn’t quite right, that he was inclined to say the first thing that came into his head these days, but she couldn’t help thinking that Mary-Pat was being a bit cloak and dagger about it all. Rosie would see him sooner or later, before or after the wedding. Maybe she was afraid that Daddy would embarrass them all in public. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, she thought.
    She went to reassure Mary-Pat that she and Gerry would look after Daddy, to make sure she could relax and enjoy the day, because she felt guilty about it. Mary-Pat did all the running after Daddy, bringing him those unhealthy big bars of chocolate and the
Racing Post
, and June knew that it was the least she could do, to offer to mind him for one day … but one look at her sister made June say, ‘You’re right. It’s not a good idea.’ Because she knew that’s what Mary-Pat wanted to hear. June always agreed with Mary-Pat, even if her sister was talking nonsense – because it was easier than to face up to her. She’d always let Mary-Pat bully her, and she’d never minded that much, but sometimes she just wished her sister would be a bit … kinder. A bit less relentless.
    There was something June couldn’t put her finger on, and she had a sense of the horrible shagpile carpet in the shop shifting beneath her feet. She knew that Daddy was feeling better – he’d practically risen from the dead, sitting up one day last week in St Benildus’s after a week in a semi-coma and demanding a fry-up, and that was good, wasn’t it? They were all delighted about it, weren’t they?
    Mary-Pat got up, shuffling forward on the sofa until she could stand up. ‘So that’s settled then. The bug will do for now, then we’ll tell her that he’s got the bladder infection back and that he’s too ill to come,’ and she began to rummage in her handbag for a cigarette. ‘What?’
    ‘Nothing.’ June knew better than to probe. Mary-Pat must have her reasons, June thought doubtfully, even if she knew that her sister wasn’t telling her everything. We all have our reasons. June thought of her little writing box under her bed, with those flimsy blue aerogrammes in it, and for a moment she closed her eyes. No, mustn’t think about that.
    ‘I need a fag,’ Mary-Pat muttered. ‘Where the hell did I put my lighter?’
    ‘I’ll come with you,’ June volunteered, desperate to get out of the stuffy shop. She followed her sister out onto the busy pavement, thronged with people in summer clothes. It was another baking hot day, of the kind they’d grown used to this glorious summer. Mary-Pat found her cigarettes and her lighter and after lighting up and taking a big drag, she leaned against the shop window, her face relaxed for the first time all morning, and she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. For a moment, June wondered if she could cadge a cigarette off Mary-Pat, but she changed her mind. Smoking was so bad for your skin.
    The two of them stood there in silence for a few moments, drinking in the hot summer sun, Mary-Pat’s cigarette