Read Online The Grieving Stones by Gary McMahon - Free Book Online
Authors: Gary McMahon
Tags: BluA
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isn’t it? Soldier on.” She looked around the room, at each of their faces, hoping for an affirmation.
“Yes,” said Jake, taking the bait. “Of course…what else can we do?”
Moira talked for the best part of an hour. She’d taken over the conversation and the others had allowed her to run with it. Alice was tired; she suspected the others were too. They would all get their chance to speak, but it was probably better that Moira got it over with first. That way, they could front-load her with sympathy in the hope that it would satisfy her for at least a little while.
She knew it wasn’t a nice way to think of the woman, but the more time she spent with Moira, the less time she wanted to be with her.
Finally, Moira’s dam burst and the tears began to roll. Steve put down his iPad and sat down next to her. She slid into his arms, her face pressing against his chest. He stroked her hair. “It’s okay,” he said. He glanced at Alice. His face was blank, showing no expression, not giving anything away regarding how he felt towards any of them.
“Well,” said Clive. “I think that’s about it for the first night. Well done, everyone. Good work.”
Alice yawned without being able to control it. “Sorry,” she said.
“No, I’m sure we’re all tired.” Clive reached out and squeezed her forearm.
When she glanced over at Steve, he was glaring at her as if she’d done something unforgivable. She didn’t understand; she had not meant to offend anyone. “Sorry,” she said again.
Steve looked away. His face relaxed. Had she misread him in some way? There was no reason for him to be annoyed with her.
“Would anyone like another drink?” Jake was holding up a wine bottle, offering it left to right.
“No thanks,” said Clive. Steve said nothing. Moira continued to weep, but silently.
“Yeah, why not.” Alice made to stand but Jake was already on his feet and pouring her a glass. “Cheers,” she said.
“I think I’ll visit the little boys’ room and then call it a night,” said Clive, standing. His long, lean body cast a thin shadow as he tottered across the room, slightly drunk. “We have an early start tomorrow… lots of work to do.” He was speaking quietly, talking more to himself than to the others.
“Yes,” said Moira, taking the hint and pulling reluctantly away from Steve. Her cheeks were shiny. “I should hit the hay as well. Thank you, everyone.” She stood and smoothed down her skirt, smiled shyly, then headed for the door that led to the rickety stairs.
“I think I’ll turn in, too.” Steve stood without making eye contact. He left the room and shut the door quietly.
“Just us, then.” Jake sounded delighted.
Shit, thought Alice. This is all I need. She hoped he wouldn’t make a drunken pass at her. That would make things awkward for the rest of the weekend. She hadn’t given out any signals that she was even remotely interested, but a man like Jake – confused, insecure – might not concern himself with such minor details and plough on anyway, hoping for the best.
“I’ll just finish this then go up,” she said.
Jake stood and crossed the room, sitting down heavily beside her. He was too close; his thighs brushed against hers. She shifted sideways, pressing herself up against the arm of the sofa, but he didn’t get the message and moved with her, maintaining the contact.
“So,” she said. “That Moira, eh? She’s been through the wringer.”
“We all have,” said Jake. His eyes were glassy from drink. She’d seen this look on men before, usually just before a situation spun out of control. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Because we’ve all been though such horrible shit?”
Alice nodded.
“When my sister died, I thought I would die, too.”
She nodded again. She’d heard it all before, at the group sessions. Jake’s twin sister had died of a drug overdose when they were both twenty-two. She recalled that it had been bad drugs supplied
“Yes,” said Jake, taking the bait. “Of course…what else can we do?”
Moira talked for the best part of an hour. She’d taken over the conversation and the others had allowed her to run with it. Alice was tired; she suspected the others were too. They would all get their chance to speak, but it was probably better that Moira got it over with first. That way, they could front-load her with sympathy in the hope that it would satisfy her for at least a little while.
She knew it wasn’t a nice way to think of the woman, but the more time she spent with Moira, the less time she wanted to be with her.
Finally, Moira’s dam burst and the tears began to roll. Steve put down his iPad and sat down next to her. She slid into his arms, her face pressing against his chest. He stroked her hair. “It’s okay,” he said. He glanced at Alice. His face was blank, showing no expression, not giving anything away regarding how he felt towards any of them.
“Well,” said Clive. “I think that’s about it for the first night. Well done, everyone. Good work.”
Alice yawned without being able to control it. “Sorry,” she said.
“No, I’m sure we’re all tired.” Clive reached out and squeezed her forearm.
When she glanced over at Steve, he was glaring at her as if she’d done something unforgivable. She didn’t understand; she had not meant to offend anyone. “Sorry,” she said again.
Steve looked away. His face relaxed. Had she misread him in some way? There was no reason for him to be annoyed with her.
“Would anyone like another drink?” Jake was holding up a wine bottle, offering it left to right.
“No thanks,” said Clive. Steve said nothing. Moira continued to weep, but silently.
“Yeah, why not.” Alice made to stand but Jake was already on his feet and pouring her a glass. “Cheers,” she said.
“I think I’ll visit the little boys’ room and then call it a night,” said Clive, standing. His long, lean body cast a thin shadow as he tottered across the room, slightly drunk. “We have an early start tomorrow… lots of work to do.” He was speaking quietly, talking more to himself than to the others.
“Yes,” said Moira, taking the hint and pulling reluctantly away from Steve. Her cheeks were shiny. “I should hit the hay as well. Thank you, everyone.” She stood and smoothed down her skirt, smiled shyly, then headed for the door that led to the rickety stairs.
“I think I’ll turn in, too.” Steve stood without making eye contact. He left the room and shut the door quietly.
“Just us, then.” Jake sounded delighted.
Shit, thought Alice. This is all I need. She hoped he wouldn’t make a drunken pass at her. That would make things awkward for the rest of the weekend. She hadn’t given out any signals that she was even remotely interested, but a man like Jake – confused, insecure – might not concern himself with such minor details and plough on anyway, hoping for the best.
“I’ll just finish this then go up,” she said.
Jake stood and crossed the room, sitting down heavily beside her. He was too close; his thighs brushed against hers. She shifted sideways, pressing herself up against the arm of the sofa, but he didn’t get the message and moved with her, maintaining the contact.
“So,” she said. “That Moira, eh? She’s been through the wringer.”
“We all have,” said Jake. His eyes were glassy from drink. She’d seen this look on men before, usually just before a situation spun out of control. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Because we’ve all been though such horrible shit?”
Alice nodded.
“When my sister died, I thought I would die, too.”
She nodded again. She’d heard it all before, at the group sessions. Jake’s twin sister had died of a drug overdose when they were both twenty-two. She recalled that it had been bad drugs supplied
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