Page 60 of Phoenix
She silently nods as I take hold of her hand and lead her across to their table. Her hand grips mine back with white knuckle force and I suddenly want to take her inside of my arms and carry her right back out again. But I can’t; she needs to do this for her sake as well as theirs.
“Just remember the date we’re gonna have after this,” I tell her, and to my relief, she gives me a small smile and stands a little taller.
“Jessie, how are you?” her mother says with a smile that looks forced. She gets up to greet her with a kiss on the cheek and a clutch of her free hand.
“It’s Niamh now…or again,” she replies. Her parents look positively thrilled by this information, as if it’s an olive branch. I almost feel bad for them.
“You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that, Niamh,” her mother says before taking her seat again.
“Please, take a seat, both of you,” her father says with a smile, even for me. I guess he’s accepted the fact that to get to Niamh, he’s going to have to get through me.
Niamh looks at me before accepting the invitation, and I follow suit. My butt feels much too big for the chair, and I find myself shuffling around to try and get a hint of comfort from it. In the end, I stretch out my limbs and lean against the back. In contrast, Niamh remains huddled up, keeping her eyes fixed on the empty plate in front of her. The table remains silent, her parents still wearing fake smiles, and me ping-ponging my focus between them and their daughter. It’s about as comfortable as a funeral in here.
“Niamh, we were so excited to hear you wanted to see us,” her mother finally says, reaching her hand forward over the table to invite contact with Niamh. “After our last meeting, we gave up hope.”
Niamh does not move, just keeps her eyes trained on the white linen of the tablecloth. Her parents look to me with furrowed brows, as though I have the answers they so desperately crave from their daughter.
“Niamh, baby,” I whisper as I run my hand over her wet hair in an attempt to soothe her anxiety, “you ready to tell them?”
“Tell us what?” her father instantly snaps. I give him a look, one that tells him to calm the fuck down before he spooks her.
“I’m still angry with them,” she says, which wasn’t what I was expecting her to say at all. They turn to stare at her with what looks like hope in their eyes. “But I guess I know part of this anger isn’t their fault.”
Tears begin to stream from her eyes, but her face remains passive, and she makes no attempt to brush them away.
“You should have come to get me,” she says with a strength I know she has worked hard to get hold of. Her mother looks down at her hands and begins to release her own tears of shame.
“I know, Niamh, and I hate myself for it,” she says sadly.
“But I’m beginning to accept that it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t find me,” Niamh says, looking right at them for the first time. A few long moments pass between them, with no one speaking or making any kind of movement.
“Afternoon, everybody, can I get you guys anything?” the waiter says as he draws up with his paper and pen at the ready.
“Nope!” I grunt, to which he widens his eyes and marches swiftly away.
“We never ever gave up hope of finding you, Niamh,” her father says, reaching his hand out for hers. “Life stopped that day.”
Another stretch of silence descends so I signal for the waiter to come back, if only to break the atmosphere. He’s a lot more apprehensive this time round, to the point whereby I have to hide my smirk. Poor guy doesn’t know what he’s dealing with, not that I feel much more able to handle all this emotion. However, I’m glad Niamh is beginning to release some of the anger she’s been holding onto for all these years.
Once our orders have been taken, the waiter practically runs away and into the safety of the kitchen. Niamh looks at me for support, so I take the lead with the next conversation we need to have.
“So, our coming here today wasn’t just for Niamh to make some sort of peace with you,” I begin, their eyes shooting my way for further explanation. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, but we recently discovered that Robert is still alive.”
Niamh slumps down in her seat at the same time as her parents drop open their mouths in shock. Her mother’s glass slips from her hand, and she flusters to catch it. As it hits the table, her father begins mopping up the ice cubes and water, probably to focus on something other than the epic bomb I’ve just dropped.
“We think he knows where she is, so you guys are probably safe, but you should be on guard anyway,” I warn them.
“Wait, have you told the police? Surely, they should know!” Niamh’s father gasps, keeping his voice hushed after several heads just turned to look our way. They’re still ashamed of what happened, even with Niamh’s forgiveness.
“No!” I snap, sounding resolute. “As far as they know, Robert is dead, and that’s how it needs to stay.”
“What on earth for?” her mother asks, looking horrified.
“Because it means Warren can…he can…” Niamh trails off, too nervous to say the words out loud.
“It means I can kill him without any awkward questions,” I tell them bluntly, to which their mouths drop open in shock again. “Not only did he destroy Niamh’s childhood, and kept her locked up in fear for years, but he also did the exact same to my brother.”
“He also killed Warren’s mother,” Niamh whispers, taking hold of my hand under the table in support.