Page 45 of An Angel’s Share (The Greystone Family: Greystone Brothers #1)

Aoife

The week goes by in a blur of activity. All centred around the hospital. Daddy looks like he’s on the mend. His colour has gone from a pasty yellow to a healthier ruddy red.

It wasn’t a heart attack, more like a warning shot, severe anxiety. I’m not surprised, with what went down at that meeting. I think he’s heartbroken, not necessarily an actual broken heart. But I am determined he will make a good recovery.

Mammy is on the same page, a full and healthy recovery for Daddy, but her tactics are entirely different.

Anyone would think she’d had a heart attack.

She’s on a healthy eating campaign, which everyone in the house has to abide by.

No drinking, all food low fat. She is practically patrolling the kitchens with a clipboard, policing the kitchen staff.

I even caught her in the kitchen checking in and weighing salt portions.

If she’s not policing the kitchen staff, she’s policing me. She’s dragged Liam and Maggie in to support her. One of the three is at my side constantly, and it’s getting on my nerves. I’m still avoiding Jonno, but the more days that pass and I don’t really interact with him, them, the worse I feel.

When I have time on my hands, I dissect the conversations we've had. The time spent with each other. Even now, he’s always attentive—drinks, food, battling Mammy if I want to eat.

All she is talking about is fat content, salt, being overweight.

It’s like she’s forgotten pregnant women have different needs, cravings.

But he hasn’t tried to get me alone, and I’m not sure what I think about that.

Evie and her brothers have stayed and are supporting Marshall and Jonno.

In fact, they’re supporting everyone except Patrick and Liam.

I’m sure Evie has tried to catch me a few times, but to be honest, I’ve run.

Well, waddled off at the highest speed I can waddle at.

I’ll break like a dam if she catches me, my tears just below the surface at all times.

My envy, however, is off the Richter scale whenever I see Jonno with the kids or her and the brothers.

It’s like a hot spike in my chest, how much of a family they are.

Marshall is spoiled and looked after. Any places he wants to visit, they arrange, anything he wants, they make it happen.

I know Jonno is really doing that for me.

Liam seems to have checked out and is focusing weirdly on mammy.

It isn’t until the day before Daddy is due home that I inadvertently listen in on a conversation that changes everything.

I’m sitting in the small library where there is a small toilet.

The very toilet, in fact, that Christy admitted to listening into a conversation in the coffee shop a few weeks ago.

I hear Evie come into the room, talking to Jonno.

In fact, telling Jonno off would be more of an accurate statement. The other two brothers follow them in.

I think about coming out, and am just pulling my underwear up, when they start.

“Have you spoken to her?” Evie is demanding. “You need to sort it, Jonno. She doesn’t look right. Have you told her how much you love her? Have you told her you wanted her whether she was the thief or not? You need to tell her.”

My breath stutters in my chest and I freeze. My underwear is not sorted correctly, but I just plonk myself back onto the toilet. My ears are on high alert.

“I can’t get her on her own. I don’t want to go into her room, she’s locking the door.” Jonno sounds exasperated, and worried.

“Pick the lock, then,” Evie commands. Clearly the criminal brains in the family.

“No. I’ve done that in the past, but I can't. I don't want to piss her off any more than she clearly is. And I’m not prepared to upset her. She looks like she might burst into tears every minute of every day.” His voice sounds strained.

“I’m trying to get her alone to tell her about Liam, but she is making it hard.

She’s obviously not interested in me. She’s told me that.

I have to respect what she’s said to me.

Asked of me. I’ve got to consider the baby. ”

He sounds so down. Tears spring to my eyes.

There’s a long silence, but he starts again asking them, “Where are we at? Do we have any idea when he’ll move the money?

” I hear shuffling of what sounds like paperwork.

“When is the balance due on the apartments? Did you get the developer to do what you wanted, Evie?” His voice is low and commanding, but I can hear the tinge of anxiety in it.

“Yes, all set there. Any monies he pays will be held by the developer, but the legals will be cocked up. So we can stop the completion, but not return the money to him. He’ll never pass a money laundering check. It’s Christy’s anyway, so I don’t feel bad at all.” She sounds smug.

“Are we telling Patrick?” Jackson’s voice filters through the door.

“No, he can’t be fully trusted not to open his mouth. He might not believe what we say. Let’s wait.” Jonno’s applying logic. I agree with him.

“How do we think we can make Liam start to move that money? So we can intercept it en route. Is James all set up?” Jude’s voice asks.

“He’s ready. We may need Aoife, but I daren’t fucking ask.

Can you imagine that conversation? I love you, you are my world.

I don’t care if you were the thief, but I knew you weren’t.

I just had to prove it. But I always knew deep down you weren’t.

I was loving you anyway. Oh, and by the way, we know the thieving scum bag is Liam who tried to set you up, baby. So can you help me catch him please?”

I can hear the distress in his voice, and I hear Evie make a noise like she’s crying. Jonno confirms my suspicions a moment later. “Don’t cry, Kitten. It wasn’t your fault,” he tells her gently.

“Yes, but it hasn’t helped. I did ask about names, and to be fair, I did ask because I had seen that form from the Isle of Man.

But also because I was interested in her and the baby.

I love your baby, Jonno. I want Aoife to know how much we love her, how much you love her.

How much you were prepared to accept because you love her.

Please, Jonno, just pick the lock, baby bro.

Talk to her.” She’s still imploring him to break every law under the sun to get to me as they leave the room.

I sit in the tiny room for at least two hours.

The Greystones are long gone, but I can’t seem to move.

My brain, however, is spinning like the planets.

My feet are swelling up, and I need to move.

They know Liam is the thief. My head is awash with questions.

What form was Evie referring to? How do they know?

And more importantly, what am I going to do?

I’m not sure I can answer these questions on my own.

I keep spinning back to the only logical solution to my problems. Talking to Jonno.

But I can’t do that. So I decide to do nothing.

I want to go find him. But how can I trust him?

He actually thought I was a thief. How could he have listened to me ramble on about my family, thinking all the while that I was stealing Daddy’s money.

I just can’t get my head around it. I need to carry on as normal, at least until I can get Daddy out of the hospital.

I’ll talk to Daddy and then sort him out.

Daddy arrives home, with Mammy patrolling the hallways and having his visitors restricted.

He’s sitting like some sort of mafia don as she ushers people in, hovering over them, ensuring they don’t say anything to ‘over excite’ him.

She’s literally writing scripts and handing them out at the door.

Her controlling behaviour has been given a free pass, and it’s taking full advantage.

I walk past the list of pre-approved topics she tries to hand me as I enter, and I’m sure if I was not the best part of seven months pregnant she would be rugby tackling me to the floor.

As it is, she can only glare at me with conviction, daring me to ‘say the wrong thing’—i.e. talk about O’Clerys .

“Aoife, come sit, daughter, and tell me what has been decided about the business.”

Mammy throws her hands in the air and storms off.

“You did that on purpose,” I say to him as I kiss his cheek. He grins at me, looking, to be honest, so much better. It’s as if a weight has been lifted from him.

Mammy struts back in, cutting her eyes at me, as I lift my shoulders in a ‘I did not do anything’ way.

“Things are moving well. Evie has done the plans, and they are sensational. I would never have believed the things she’s decided to use from the warehouse.

I think I thought she would do a quaint chintzy coffee shop.

But instead, it’s more industrial chic. With lots of whiskey paraphernalia repurposed.

” He nods at me, so I carry on. “We’ve got the projections for the new range, and Marshall is really happy with the IPA blends now. I’ve decided to market it?—”

Mammy aggressively interrupts me. “Aoife, why don’t you just stop getting involved.

You’ve got Christy having a go at her mother, thinking she is running this house.

” She’s tossing her head like an agitated horse.

I think I even hear her whinny. “I mean, Christy running that coffee shop. You marketing our whiskey on your own.” She’s listing our jobs like a crime wrap sheet.

“You’ve got rid of everyone, there’s no one left.

” She points her finger at me imperiously.

“Well, don’t you think you’re getting your father back involved, if that’s your plan. ”