48
Roisin breathed in and out and looked at the swirling eddies of the river as their path brought it in sight. She remembered coming out here to sit on the bank and drink cans of cider in her youth.
It felt easier to be open, in this seclusion. Still difficult, but easier.
‘Long story short is, my parents were what you’d call swingers. The thing about your parents getting up to that kind of rum shit is, no one tells you what’s going on. Your responsible adults are the ones responsible. It’s not like anyone sits you down and says, “So there’s the birds, the bees, and also your mum and dad, who are a whole petting zoo.” You work it out, bit by bit. That process of figuring it out alone is what messed me up the most, really. The whispering and the locked drawers and the snogging they thought we didn’t see. The drastic warnings that my brother and I had about leaving our bedrooms after lights out when they had “parties”, even if we had nightmares.’
Roisin looked at Matt. Just recounting it, she felt queasy.
‘You see why this is unbroachable? Most people are like, ugh I don’t want to think I have a sibling so my parents did it TWICE.’
Matt smiled.
‘You know that bit in Hunter, where he sees his mum with another man, round the corner from Dad with another man’s wife? That was Lorraine. I told Joe about it. He ripped that off, didn’t ask me permission. So I saw that old wound unexpectedly reopened in the screening room.’
‘Seriously? He didn’t tell you he was using it? Wow.’
It was grimly satisfying to see Matt’s amazement.
‘My dad died of a massive stroke when I was sixteen. He was lying unclothed underneath one of my mother’s best friends, Kimberley, at the time. Who was also married. As much as my mum knew the deal in general, I don’t think she knew that particular deal. I think with Kim it was just good old-fashioned cheating, with someone off limits. I overheard the phone calls after he died. That’s the lie of the open relationship, I think. It’s never going to hurt anyone, until it does. It’s not as if I’ve ever asked, though.’
Matt nodded.
‘There had to be an inquest, so it all came out. Massive village scandal. It’d be bad enough if your dad’s affair was made public at a time like that, but rumours were flying that it was much more than that, with Mr and Mrs Walters. It was fun going to school after that, I can tell you.’
Roisin sighed. ‘The Mallory got graffitied with PERVERTS PUBE. Was it a misspelling of pub? We’ll never know. Maybe why I can’t talk about this is that it sounds funny, but it was the opposite of funny. We have to make a joke of it to cope with it, right? I try, and I can’t. I end up feeling like I am the joke.’
‘It doesn’t sound a funny thing to experience, at all,’ Matt said supportively. ‘You need your mum and dad to be your mum and dad.’
Roisin picked up a stone and threw it into the river, watching it glance off the water before disappearing under the surface.
‘Our lives were in tatters and my mother was there in her black dress and birdcage veil at the wake, like Jackie Kennedy, crying to me and Ryan, “What am I going to do now?” It was her tragedy alone. As it turned out, what she was gonna do was have flings with a string of unsuitable men and get an even worse reputation.’ Roisin looked over at him. ‘There’s a background reason she can’t get staff, Matt. Women in this place don’t talk to her much, and they don’t let their husbands spend their money in her pub either. It was sixteen years ago, but in a village, that’s sixteen minutes.’
Matt’s eyes widened slightly. ‘I see.’
Roisin was sorry if she’d soured the easy rapport he had with Lorraine. Equally, she was tired of sharing her mother’s burdens.
‘Were you close to your dad?’ Matt asked. He chose the correct turn left, remembering the route from last time.
‘I was when I was a kid. I was the apple of his eye and Ryan was my mum’s favourite. I thought that was normal at the time, but I look back and realise, like everything else about my childhood, it wasn’t, really. It was accepted that they sort of sponsored a child each and ignored the other one. My dad adored me when I was tiny with bunches and cute and his angel, then around thirteen, fourteen, when I became a hormonal, lumpy teenager with my own private life, he rejected me. I’ll never know why now or if it would have improved. That’s life’s mystery, isn’t it? You’re left with best guesses. Oh my God.’ Roisin paused.
‘What?’
‘That’s what I’ve been doing, with Joe? A man has stopped loving me, and all my focus is on why and what I did wrong. Solving the mystery. Fuck,’ Roisin said. ‘Are you some kind of incredibly stealthy therapist in expensive boots?’
‘I have been called a healer, yes,’ Matt said, slipping back into the Matt McKenzie mode she was familiar with. ‘And the boots are value per wear.’
‘What about you? Why did you fall out with your family?’ Roisin said.
‘Oh … well.’ He rubbed at his hair as he plucked up the courage. ‘The context is that I was never very popular. My older brother Charlie was the heir, and I was the spare. He loved our school, went and got the high-flying job in the City they wanted for us. I hated school, was the disappointment, the problem. The unpromising one. Jesus, why am I telling you this, like it excuses me …’ He broke off. ‘Here’s what happened, Roisin. My dad’s brother was possibly, we thought, interfering with his teenage daughter, my cousin. There were hints and she told me coded things once. She didn’t tell me I couldn’t tell anyone, so I told my parents. It was discussed in hushed well, what can you do tones. No one was going to do anything. Family comes first. Or, more accurately, our reputation comes first. So I reported it anonymously. I thought that the authorities would intervene, get her some help. Get her out of that house.’
‘… You did the right thing?’
‘I didn’t,’ Matt said.
They fell silent as they approached and passed some ramblers with sticks.
‘I didn’t consider the impact or the repercussions, at all. I revealed she’d said something. I made her life a living hell.’
‘Your family were angry you’d done it? Did you tell them it was you?’
‘When my uncle rang up in a rage, accusing me, they figured out it pretty fast. He denied everything, and my cousin did, too. She insisted it was malicious invention on my part. There was no charge, obviously, because without her testimony they had nothing. Who knows if it was true; I have to accept it might not have been. She had mental health issues, but given what could have happened to her, that’s a chicken and egg situation, isn’t it?’
Matt exhaled. His voice sounded different. ‘Either way, she hasn’t spoken to me since. I possibly falsely accused my uncle of the worst crime and tried to blow their family unit apart. She was fragile, and I wrecked her head. They all loathe me and want nothing to do with me, obviously, so I can’t go to any family events. And as time went on, my own parents and brother started to miss me out of things. It started off as easier, and then, I guess …’ Matt fell silent.
Roisin swallowed hard. She didn’t want to say something trite she’d regret.
‘So, yeah. That’s who I am. Excommunicated. Self-important bad actor, to the point of destroying families.’
‘You’re the bad actor of this piece? You? I don’t see it?’
‘There’s about nine other people who do.’