At First Sight by Hannah Sunderland (best inspirational books txt) 📗

‘He quit his job and ploughed all of his money, and a great deal of mine, into his online web-building company. He also gambled a lot online, which I knew nothing about until I finally read one of my bank statements instead of throwing it in the kitchen drawer and saw that he’d spent over two hundred pounds that month on Betfred. By the end of the second year of living together, we were so broke that we almost got evicted.’ I sighed and felt the ache of remembered anxiety. ‘We started shouting instead of talking and the only time we ever touched was when we passed in the hallway and when I handed him his dinner. In the end I was so miserable that I decided I’d rather be on my own than with him. Funny, isn’t it, how eighteen months of misery can obliterate years of happiness?’

‘It’s a shame.’

I waved a passive hand. ‘That was almost two years ago now though. I’m over it,’ I said, although that wasn’t one hundred per cent true. ‘What about you? Someone like you must have left a trail of broken hearts trailing across the Irish Sea.’ I sipped my beer, realising that my glass was already half empty, although I didn’t remember drinking it.

‘Not really.’ He glugged down the rest of his beer and turned to the bar. ‘Do you want another drink?’ I took the hint that this was a touchy subject for him and decided to move on.

‘I’m okay, thanks.’ I held up my glass to show how much I had left. He signalled the bartender and ordered another pint. ‘So, seeing as we’ve tackled my family, what’s the story with yours? Tell me more about Carrick.’

‘Erm, nothin’ too interestin’. My parents still live in Westport, County Mayo, with Carrick, who’s my dad’s brother. He’s quite a bit younger than my dad and only twelve years older than me and so he was sort of like a brother.’

‘What’s he like?’

Charlie laughed at a memory that I could almost see as it played out inside his head. ‘He’s unpredictable and loud, forgetful, obnoxious and tactless. But he’s kind and good. He only acts out because he’s lonely, I guess.

‘He drives my mam up the wall sometimes. Him and my da run the family business and my parents live in this little house with panoramic views of Clew Bay. There’s this mountain called Croagh Patrick on the opposite side of the water. Pilgrims travel to it every last Sunday in July and climb it. Some of them do it barefoot, some on their knees and you have a great view of the mountain from my parents’ place.’

‘They climb a mountain on their knees?’ I asked, astounded. ‘How tall is this mountain?’

‘About two and a half thousand feet.’

‘Holy crap,’ I said, then worried that I might have offended him. He was Irish after all, and I was only now realising how much I blasphemed in everyday life. ‘Sorry.’

‘For what?’ he asked, frowning.

‘Taking the Lord’s name in vain, or whatever.’

‘Ah, cuss away. It matters nothin’ to me.’ He smiled, his fingers stroking the beads of condensation on the outside of his glass, as his eyes stayed locked on to mine. ‘I like a person who says what they’re thinking.’

I’d never had a moment like this, where everything else bleeds away and you know exactly what the other is thinking, simply by the look in their eyes. I came over all hot and flustered, running a hand through my hair and forcing myself to look away from him before I gave too much away.

‘So …’ I cleared my throat, my voice strangely breathy. ‘You were saying about Carrick?’

‘Yeah, erm …’ He looked down too, drawing a hand through his stubble and pressing his knuckles to his lips for a moment before carrying on. ‘Carrick has this big house high up on the hill in Knockranny, not far from my parents’ house. It’s big and it’s filled with all that fancy shite he likes, but he barely spends any time there. He’s always at my parents’ place, livin’ in the summerhouse out back.’

‘Why’s that?’ I asked as his next drink was delivered.

‘He can’t stand his own company. He’s funny that way.’

I smiled. ‘He definitely sounds like he’s got a lot on his mind. Is there someone over there he can talk to?’

He shook his head. ‘Na, Mammy would lose her mind with the shame of it.’

‘There’s nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘I know that.’ He took his new pint in hand and started on that one. ‘But family … it’s complicated, yer know.’

‘Sure is.’

He held my gaze for a moment or two before speaking again. ‘There doesn’t seem to be many people in your life. Yer seem a little lonely. Is that right?’

‘Maybe, I haven’t given it much thought,’ I lied.

‘I don’t think it’s somethin’ yer give much thought to. I think it’s one of those things that you wake up one day and it’s just there.’

‘Are you speaking from experience?’ I asked.

‘Maybe.’ He smirked. ‘I haven’t given it much thought either.’

By the time the taxi pulled up on the kerb outside home, Charlie was needing a little more propping up than he had before. He’d gradually slid over from his side of the car to mine, his weight pressing against my shoulder as he stared, blankly, out the window. ‘This is me,’ I said, feeling a tug-of-war inside my stomach. On one end of the rope was my bed, warm and soft and awaiting me with open sheets; on the other was Charlie and how much I didn’t want to just go inside the house and possibly never see him again.

‘I’ll get out here too.’ He slurred a little as he spoke and unbuckled his seatbelt. I thanked the driver, Ahmed (his children were called Pritika and Arnab and they’d both gone to uni to study law).

‘You don’t have to,’ I replied. ‘I’m sure I can make it to the door without being attacked.’

But