Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [98]
‘They own this?’ Ted took in the double-fronted red-brick house.
‘Fantastic, isn’t it?’ Ashling stood on the doorstep and rang the bell.
‘We won’t have to change nappies, will we?’ Ted asked, suddenly stricken.
‘No, they’re too old for that. We’ll just have to play with them, amuse them.’
‘Well, that should be easy enough.’ Ted cleared his throat and self-consciously smoothed back a lock of his hair. ‘Ted Mullins, funniest man in Dublin, reporting for duty, sir!’
‘They might be a bit young for post-modern, ironic stand-up.’ Ashling’s heart sank. ‘I’d say the Three Little Pigs would be more their cup of Ribena.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ Ted corrected. ‘People underestimate children’s intelligence. Will I ring the bell again?’
It took a while before the door was answered. Dylan arrived, his arms soapy, his T-shirt wet and sticking to his chest.
‘How’s it going?’ He seemed distracted. Then Ashling and Ted noticed the echoey howls and bawls coming from upstairs.
‘I’m bathing Craig,’ Dylan explained.
‘He doesn’t seem happy.’
‘The worst is yet to come. I still have to rinse his hair.’ Dylan winced. ‘It’ll sound like he’s being burnt alive, but don’t be alarmed… I’d better get back.’ He was halfway up the stairs. ‘Clodagh’s in the kitchen.’
Clodagh was at the table desperately trying to persuade Molly to eat something. Anything that wasn’t a biscuit, crisp or sweet. In the last couple of weeks, Molly had gone on hunger-strike, just for the hell of it.
Ashling passed Clodagh a folder containing ten copies of her CV.
‘What’s thi—? Oh right, thanks.’ In a fluid motion, Clodagh stuffed the folder beneath a pile of children’s books strewn on the table.
‘Aren’t you going to get ready?’ Ashling took in Clodagh’s jeans and T-shirt. ‘Your taxi will be here soon.’
‘I just want to make sure she eats something…’
‘Why don’t I try?’ Ted offered gallantly.
But Molly stuck her bottom lip out and let it tremble theatrically at the suggestion.
‘Thanks, but…’ Clodagh wearily continued battering a spoon against Molly’s sparse but clenched teeth. Nothing doing. Now that Molly had an audience, there was no chance that she’d eat a thing.
‘Have some scrambled egg, love,’ Clodagh urged.
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s good for you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because there’s protein in it.’
‘Why?’
As well as refusing to eat proper food, Molly had recently started on the ‘Why?’ game. Earlier that day she’d asked twenty-nine ‘Why?’s in a row. Clodagh had gone along with it in a fatalistic curiosity to see how far it would go, but she’d cracked before Molly had.
‘Your hair’s gorgeous.’ Ashling admired, stroking Clodagh’s thick honey-gold tresses.
‘Thanks. I got it blow-dried for tonight.’
Then Ashling remembered the newly papered front-room and ran in for a look.
‘It’s fantastic!’ she enthused eagerly on her return. ‘It totally changes the mood of the room. You’ve a real eye for colour.’
‘I suppose.’ Clodagh was no longer terribly interested. She’d been very excited about her new wallpaper. But now that it was done, satisfaction and fulfilment evaded her.
Suddenly everyone looked ceilingwards as an eruption of bloodcurdling shrieks broke out in the room above them. The rinsing of Craig’s hair.
‘It really does sound like he’s being burnt alive,’ Ashling giggled. ‘Poor little thing.’
After a while the shrill screams died down into hysterical whimpers. Back to the force-feeding.
‘Everyone has to eat their dinner if they want to grow up to be big strong girls.’ Clodagh approached once more with her spoonful of scrambled egg.
‘Why?’
‘Because they just do.’
‘Why?’
‘Because.’
‘Why?’
‘Because.’
‘Why?’
‘Just FUCKING because.’ Clodagh clattered down the spoon, bouncing yellow particles around the table. ‘This is a waste of time. I’m going to get ready.’
As Clodagh swept from the room, Ted passed Ashling a shocked, wide-eyed, ‘Jayzus!’ look. ‘Bad idea to let children see your weakness,’ he observed, knowingly.
Clodagh stuck her