Read Online The Pink Suit: A Novel by Nicole Kelby - Free Book Online

Mam’s. Wasn’t bad. But not our Peg’s.”
    Yellow butter cake with raspberry jam was a Peg classic. “I’m sure it was lovely.”
    â€œDry. Father John slathered it with his own jam from the cupboard. Then he ate it with his hands as if it were a scone.”
    Kate laughed at the thought of it. “It may have been a bit on the dry side, then. Have you had supper yet? I’m famished and could use some company, if you’ve a mind.”
    â€œExcellent.” Patrick put an arm around her shoulder, gave it a squeeze. “We’ll go together. I’m finished here.”
    A group of young girls whom Kate knew from the Good Shepherd passed by the open door. They’d obviously been bowling. They swung their bags as they walked along. They reeked of beer and fried food, which made Kate’s stomach growl again. When they saw Kate, one of them giggled. The other three laughed out loud. They passed by quickly but kept turning around to look back, laughing. Kate’s ears went hot.
    â€œWhat are they on about?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œYou’re not a very good liar.”
    â€œWe’ll talk about it over dinner.”
    â€œLovely. You’ll have a halfie and discuss my personal failings.”
    â€œWe can start with mine first, if it makes you feel any better.”
    â€œWhat will we save for dessert?”
    â€œThere’s always football. Our blessed Father John has written the Gaelic Athletic Association, telling all about the wonders Mike Meehan has been doing for our parish club.”
    â€œWould they care?”
    â€œOf course not, but it fills Father John with glee to tell them.”
    Patrick Harris still lived in the large apartment above the butcher shop that he’d shared with his parents ever since they came to Inwood. Kate hadn’t been up there since his mother had died. Sometimes, after church, they would walk back together, and Mrs. Harris would invite her up for Sunday tea. After tea and Peg’s exquisite cake, Patrick would pull out his guitar and Peg would bring out her button accordion. They’d all sing together. Kate, too. With their eyes closed in reverie, their voices twining like ivy, they would sing until Peg would start crying. No matter how hard Peg tried, the music of home always overwhelmed her.
    â€œYou’re a good girl to stay,” Patrick would say to Kate when he walked her home. “Most girls don’t have the time for the old ways.” But Kate loved to sing, and she most certainly loved the cake. And it was always nice to hear Patrick’s lovely voice. Now, with Peg gone, those Sundays were just a memory.
    â€œI’ll be ready in a minute,” Patrick said.
    â€œNo hurry,” Kate said, but the smell of bleach was overpowering. She began to cough and couldn’t seem to stop. Patrick ran back to the stainless sink and poured Kate a glass of tap water. He watched her closely, like a mother hen. She drank it all, quickly. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was.
    â€œYou’ve had nothing today, have you?”
    â€œTea. Cream. Two sugars. It was Barry’s. I found it in a tourist shop in the city. Gold Blend. Wasn’t the same, though.”
    â€œNever is, is it?”
    â€œNever. Tasted stale.”
    Kate leaned against the white tile wall as Patrick Harris took off his stained apron and butcher’s coat. He had on the same shirt he’d worn that morning. It was a very nice shirt—department-store brand, but it had a fine fit for being mass produced and was properly tapered at the waist.
    Patrick took Kate by the hand. It was nice when they walked like that. Hand in hand, like children. The pub wasn’t far. There was no sign outside, which made it look more like a private social club than a common pub. Kate had never really noticed it before. There was no reason to. Back home, the pub was the link to the world outside the Island. In