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Tom stood at the window and looked out at the driving rain. Jesus, pregnant. There were a lot of things he’d thought Lucy might say to him, but that hadn’t been one of them.

He’d felt as if he’d been shot. He hadn’t been able to speak for a minute, and then when he’d looked into her pleading eyes, he’d known he had to say something nice. He’d muttered, ‘We’ll work it out,’ but he hadn’t reallybelieved that.

How could he have been so stupid? That one bloody shag. Jesus, they’d had sex about ten times that weekend in Kerry. It was just that one time they’d been really drunk and he hadn’t used a condom. One stupid little mistake and now this?

Tom knew Lucy was waiting for him to call her to say he’d got the money and could go with her to Liverpool next week. But he didn’t have any money.He’d blown it all on their weekend in Kerry. He’d asked three of his mates to lend him some, but they were all skint too. Everyone was – it was the end of January so no one had any cash. There was no other way. He was going to have to ask his dad for the money. He’d say it was for a college trip or something. He’d figure out a bullshit story to tell Gabriel.

It had been only three days sinceLucy had blurted it out but Tom felt as if he’d aged ten years. A baby! Christ. Tom just wanted the whole thing to be over and for his life to go back to normal. He was worried, though. Things were weird with Lucy now. Would this break them up?

Why did it have to happen? Things had been going great. He really liked her, and life had been good. But now this. Anabortion. Everything was messedup. Would Lucy be different now? Would she blame him? Would she go mad after the abortion? There was a girl in St Jude’s, in the year ahead of Tom, who had ended up drinking a bottle of vodka a day after having an abortion. She’d ended up in hospital, then rehab.

Still, though, that wouldn’t happen to Lucy: she was sensible, smart, together. Tom would be there for her – he had to be. He wantedto help. He just had to get the money. He didn’t want to lose her. Lucy was the best thing that had happened to him. Sure, he’d dated loads of girls, but none of them had captured his heart. They were all St Jude’s girls and all kind of the same. But Lucy was different. She was so smart and focused and, best of all, loving and warm. She made Tom feel ten feet tall. When he was with her, he feltreally, truly happy.

Tom craved affection, having grown up with just his dad for a companion. He hated being an only child. He envied people with big noisy families. It had always been just him and Gabriel for dinner. When he watched other dads hugging their sons he tried to picture Gabriel hugging him. The closest they’d come was on Tom’s first day in Trinity when his father had put his armon his shoulders and said, ‘You have four years to become a man. You need to grow up, son, come out of here with a good degree and don’t let the family name down.’

That was it. That was as warm and fuzzy as Gabriel Harrington-Black ever got. Tom knew it was partly because his heart had broken when his wife died. Everyone said she had been Gabriel’s true love. Tom had been ten months old at thetime so he had no recollection of her. On the rare moments he allowed himself to think about his mother, it made him desperately sad.

But Lucy hugged him all the time and told him she was proud of him and that he was amazing to be so ‘normal’ despite having no mum and a distant father. She made Tom feel like he wasn’t a failure, like he mattered, and he couldn’t get enough of it. It had onlybeen five months but he was falling for Lucy, falling fast and hard.

No, it would be okay. He’d ask for the money tonight, when he met Gabriel for dinner, and he’d get it and give it to Lucy and they’d go to England and come back and be normal again. It would be okay. It would all work out. It had to.

Tom watched his father enter the restaurant. Gabriel stood at the entrance as the manager rushedover to welcome him. He handed him his cashmere coat and looked around. Spotting Tom at their usual table, he nodded in his direction. As he made his way towards his son several people greeted him. Gabriel’s booming voice echoed around the room.

‘Yes, tough case, but he got what he deserved … Hello, good to see you still have an appetite after your client went down … I might join you for a cognaclater, I’m meeting my son, he’s in Trinity studying law, chip off the old block …’

Tom cringed as his father strutted about the place as if he owned it. He had not inherited Gabriel’s supreme confidence. He braced himself for what was to come. Gabriel didn’t like his son to overspend his allowance, and Tom knew he was not going to like being asked for more money.

Gabriel shook Tom’s hand andsat down opposite him. Tom had made sure to sit with his back to the room so Gabriel could see who was in the restaurant. His father liked to see and be seen.

‘Well, Tom, how are things?’

‘Good, thanks.’

‘Studying hard, I hope.’

‘Yes.’

‘Glad to hear it. I expect much better results this year. No son of mine is going to leave Trinity with anything less than a two-one degree. Of course I’dlike to see you get a first, as I did, but I doubt that’s going to happen.’

Tom said nothing.

Gabriel waved the waiter over. ‘I’ll have the sirloin steak, make sure the steak is bloody. I certainly don’t want it overcooked but neither do I want it blue. My son will have the same, and we’ll have a bottle of the Barolo.’

The Barolo was seventy pounds. Tom needed four hundred for the abortion.Lucy had paid for the flights and a cheap hotel for one night. He tried to build up the courage to ask for the money. When the Barolo was poured, he gulped a glass.

‘Good Lord, Tom! An expensive red wine is to be savoured, not thrown back like beer.’ Gabriel swirled his wine in his glass. ‘You’re becoming feral since you moved into rooms. Is that boy you’re sharing with a bad influence?’

‘Killianis great.’

‘Mmm.’ Gabriel wrinkled his nose. ‘I would have preferred you to be with one of your St Jude’s pals.’

‘Killian’s a good roommate, Dad. I have enough friends from St Jude’s. I think it’s important to make new ones too.’

‘Of course it is, as long as they’re the right sort. You want to befriend the people who will be the influencers of the future. I met Daniel Johnson when I was a studentin Trinity. He went on to be the youngest man to become a Supreme Court judge. These are the people you should be palling about with. Not some fellow called Killian from Limerick who rows and studies sociology. What in God’s name is he going to do with that degree? Utter nonsense.’

Although Tom disagreed with his father, he certainly wasn’tgoing to get into an argument about the merits of sociology.Besides, Gabriel only respected people who studied law, medicine or accounting. Anything else was ‘utter rubbish’.