I Confess. Alex Barclay

Johnny hands everyone a massive drink,’ said Helen. ‘You’ll all be dying in the morning.’

      ‘Not me,’ said Patrick, pointing to his 7UP.

      ‘Do you not drink?’ said Laura.

      ‘No,’ said Patrick. ‘I gave up years ago.’

      ‘Why’s that?’ said Laura. ‘Health reasons?’

      Patrick nodded. ‘I guess so. Stopped one January and never looked back.’

      ‘Hey – that’s Clare’s line,’ said Johnny. ‘“Never look back”.’

      ‘“Eyes ahead” is my line!’ said Clare.

      ‘It’s “eyes ahead”,’ said Murph at the same time.

      ‘Relax, the pair of you,’ said Johnny.

      Clare looked around the room. ‘You’re all an appalling influence and I know I’m going to end up in some “District Court Judge in Drinking Shame” situation.’

      ‘We’re well tucked away here,’ said Johnny. ‘What happens in Pilgrim Point stays in Pilgrim Point.’

      ‘I’d say any fart I crack off tonight after a rake of pints will go well beyond the boundaries,’ said Murph.

      ‘Any development on the spa?’ said Clare.

      ‘Well, the plans are drawn up,’ said Edie, ‘but before we can put in for planning, we have to get an archaeological survey done. And there’s no point getting it done at this time of year, so we’re looking at March for that. And on and on.’

      ‘Ooh,’ said Murph, sucking in a breath, ‘Johnny fucked up there.’

      ‘What?’ said Edie. She flashed warning eyes at Murph. ‘No, he didn’t.’

      ‘Sorry,’ said Murph. ‘He just looked a little—’

      ‘Bored,’ said Edie.

      Johnny frowned. ‘I’m not bored, I’m—’

      ‘I’m teasing,’ said Edie. ‘The chapel is Johnny’s thing.’

      ‘The chapel’s not “my thing”,’ said Johnny. ‘It’s—’

      ‘Jesus, lads,’ said Murph. ‘You’ve got visitors. Did your mammies not teach you anything?’

      ‘So, what are the plans for the chapel?’ said Patrick.

      ‘Well …’ said Johnny.

      ‘Well …’ said Edie.

      ‘What I think we should be doing,’ said Johnny, ‘is corporate events or yoga retreats or conferences or gigs or whatever. We’re in the perfect spot – away from it all, no mobile coverage unless you want to use WhatsApp, no distractions—’

      ‘And the views,’ said Clare. ‘And the Wild Atlantic Way.’

      Murph turned to Edie. ‘And what do you think you should be doing with it?’

      ‘Not talking about it tonight,’ said Edie, giving him a bright smile.

      ‘And on and on it goes,’ said Edie. ‘That’s why it’s sort of … in limbo.’

      ‘Or “under renovation”, as I like to call it,’ said Johnny.

      They fell into silence.

      ‘So,’ said Johnny, turning to Laura, ‘how are you? How are the kid … s?’

      ‘Good one,’ said Laura. ‘Yes, I’ve more than one. And they’re alive. After that … well, Mammy’s on the lash, isn’t she?’ She took a long sip of her drink.

      Murph laughed. ‘Johnny’s like “thank fuck we got that out of the way”.’

      ‘I hate people banging on about their kids on a night out,’ said Laura.

      ‘It was a genuine question,’ said Johnny.

      ‘And have you any more question … s?’ said Murph.

      ‘Ah, give him a break,’ said Laura. ‘He’s had a fair few knocks to the head over the years. Children: Séamus, seven, Paddy, five: healthy, happy, and tapped.’

      ‘And the father?’ said Johnny. ‘Both Frank’s?’ He smiled.

      ‘Johnny!’ said Edie.

      ‘I see a lot of Brad Pitt in Séamus,’ said Laura.

      Johnny turned to Clare. ‘What about your lot?’

      Clare smiled. ‘Children: Ava, nineteen, Lucas, fourteen, Marco, twelve. Husband: Alan, forty-eight. Cuddly toy. Toaster. Microwave oven.’

      ‘Not a child to my name,’ said Murph. ‘Until the knocks on the door start.’

      ‘Not a child to my name, either,’ said Patrick.

      ‘Any woman on the scene?’ said Laura.

      Patrick shook his head. ‘No.’

      ‘Man?’ said Clare.

      Patrick smiled. ‘Also, no.’

      ‘And would you like to meet someone?’ said Clare.

      ‘I would, I suppose,’ said Patrick, ‘but it’s hard enough, these days. And I wouldn’t be one for internet dating.’

      ‘Multiple women on the go, here,’ said Murph. ‘No apologies.’

      ‘I hate to stop you mid-candid admission,’ said Clare, ‘but do you mind if we sit down?’

      ‘Of course,’ said Edie. ‘Sorry.’

      ‘No,’ said Clare, ‘it’s my shoes.’

      ‘Remember “don’t puke on my shoes”, “take off my shoes”,’ said Murph.

      ‘Oh, God,’ said Laura.

      ‘And the gas part was you were talking to yourself,’ said Murph. ‘Laura, pasted, forehead down on a white plastic table—’

      ‘That I had to climb under,’ said Helen, ‘so I could take off the shoes.’

      ‘Well, of course you did,’ said Murph.

      There was a chorus from the others, ‘“I couldn’t say no!”’

      ‘Do I say that a lot?’ said Helen.

      They all laughed. ‘Yes,’ said Edie.

      ‘Yes!’ said Murph. ‘It’s why we all love you.’ He turned to Laura. ‘There’s not many who’d risk climbing under a table when you’re gearing up.’

      ‘And she managed to have the wherewithal to tell me make sure the shoes were “out of splashing distance”,’ said Helen.

      ‘Ah, lads,’ said Laura. ‘Clare – you were right. We need to be allowed to forget this shit.’

      ‘Sure, that’s no craic,’ said Murph.

      ‘Right, everyone,’ said Johnny. ‘Go – sit. I have a few things to check on and I’ll be back.’

      Helen let Johnny pass, and pulled Edie to one side as everyone else sat down.

      ‘Am I sensing tension?’ said Helen.

      ‘Where?’ said Edie.

      ‘Johnny and Patrick?’ said Helen.

      Edie’s eyes widened. ‘What? Why do you say that?’

      ‘Do you really think Johnny believes I randomly bumped into Patrick last week, and just said, “Come on down for my birthday dinner”, given that the last time I laid eyes on him was when he came to say his goodbyes to Sister Consolata in the hospital