Thanks for the Memories. Cecelia Ahern
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Название: Thanks for the Memories
Автор: Cecelia Ahern
Издательство: HarperCollins
isbn: 9780007283347
isbn:
Frankie. Christened Francesca but refuses to answer to it. Dad was wrong about Kate. She may have sourced the poteen but technically it was Frankie that held my mouth open and poured it down my throat. As a result of this version of the story never being told, he thinks Frankie’s a saint, very much to Kate’s annoyance.
‘I’ll take gymnastics tomorrow,’ I smile as the children’s chanting gets louder. Kate’s gone and there’s silence.
‘GRACIE!’ Dad calls again.
‘It’s Joyce, Dad.’
‘I got the conundrum!’
I make my way back to my bed and cover my head with a pillow.
A few minutes later Dad arrives at the door, scaring the life out of me.
‘I was the only one that got the conundrum. The contestants hadn’t a clue. Simon won anyway, goes through to tomorrow’s show. He’s been the winner for three days now and I’m half bored lookin’ at him. He has a funny-looking face; you’d have a right laugh if you saw it. Don’t think Carol likes him much either and she’s after losin’ loads of weight again. Do you want a HobNob? I’m going to make another cuppa.’
‘No, thanks.’ I put the pillow back over my head. He uses so many words.
‘Well, I’m having one. I have to eat with my pills. Supposed to take it at lunch but I forgot.’
‘You took a pill at lunch, remember?’
‘That was for my heart. This is for my memory. Short-term memory pills.’
I take the pillow off my face to see if he’s being serious. ‘And you forgot to take it?’
He nods.
‘Oh, Dad.’ I start to laugh while he looks on as though I’m having an episode. ‘You are medicine enough for me. Well, you need to get stronger pills. They’re not working, are they?’
He turns his back and makes his way down the hall, grumbling, ‘They’d bloody well work if I remembered to take them.’
‘Dad,’ I call to him and he stops at the top of the stairs. ‘Thanks for not asking any questions about Conor.’
‘Sure, I don’t need to. I know you’ll be back together in no time.’
‘No we won’t,’ I say softly.
He walks a little closer to my room. ‘Is he stepping out with someone else?’
‘No he’s not. And I’m not. We don’t love each other. We haven’t for a long time.’
‘But you married him, Joyce. Didn’t I bring you down the aisle myself?’ He looks confused.
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