At First Sight by Hannah Sunderland (latest novels to read TXT) 📕

spooning a ladle of light brown stew into his bowl before moving around to Eoin, who sat at the head of the table. It was plain to see the Stone family resemblance, with the men who all had the same sculpted look to their faces, as if they were bronze busts brought to life.

It seemed baffling to me that Carrick and Eoin were brothers, regardless of the undeniable resemblance. Where Carrick was comically over the top and flamboyant, Eoin was subdued and stoic. Charlie hadn’t said much to me about their upbringing, but from what I could see, their experiences had been very different. Eoin sat, expressionless, rigid-backed and joyless, while Carrick sat there, grinning at nothing, his bright turquoise scarf dangling dangerously close to the surface of his stew as he drummed on the edge of the table with his fingers. It struck me that Eoin had been the one to get the clip around the ear, whereas Carrick hadn’t had nearly enough. But then, wasn’t that often the way with the oft-spoiled younger sibling? I knew nothing about it personally, but to me it always seemed that the youngest could always get away with murder.

I’d been fighting the urge to talk for going on twenty minutes now, since we’d moved inside and the conversations about border flowers had come to an end. My mouth wasn’t used to this. Where there was a silence, I was there to fill it. But the tension in the air that came with unsaid words and unsettled scores was striking me mute and, on top of that, I’d never been around anyone who so much as said ‘bless you’ when I sneezed, let alone staunch Irish Catholics, and so I was afraid that I’d somehow blaspheme and make a tense afternoon even worse.

Ava reached me and gave me a sweet, if somewhat insincere, smile. ‘Looks to me like yer need feedin’ up a bit,’ she said as she dished out a portion of stew, which slopped into my bowl with a thud. ‘Have a wee bit’o bread with it.’ She nodded towards a bowl of bread in the centre of the table and I obeyed without pause. She moved on to Charlie who sat beside me, his body becoming more rigid the closer his mother got to him. She served his food silently then took her seat, at the opposite end of the table to her husband.

‘Smells great, so it does,’ Carrick said, fidgeting with the corner of his napkin, his accent seeming thicker now that he was back amongst the family. ‘Ava makes a grand stew,’ he added, I think for my benefit, and he took some bread for himself. I took this as an invitation to start so I picked up my spoon and plunged it into the bowl.

Ava cleared her throat and I felt the warmth of Charlie’s hand land on my knee. He squeezed my leg tightly in warning and I looked up to see Ava smiling, although it could be mistaken for a grimace.

‘Would yer like to lead us in sayin’ grace, Nell?’ Ava asked, her dark eyes narrowing with relish at my first slip-up. I lowered my spoon to the table, remembering too late that it was covered in gravy and smearing it all over the table.

I mumbled an apology as Carrick gracelessly stood, flicked his scarf over his shoulder, picked up his own fabric serviette and mopped up my mess. ‘Let me get that for yer.’ I thanked him with my eyes.

‘Oh, I err, I don’t really know ho—’ I began. Why did I suddenly feel like I was back in school, being picked on to give an impromptu answer to a question I hadn’t been paying attention to.

‘I’ll do it,’ Charlie butted in, saving me from my embarrassment. He cast me an apologetic sideways glance before bowing his head and clasping his hands together. Everyone around the table followed suit and I played along.

Charlie cleared his throat before speaking and then said the words that I knew he didn’t believe. ‘Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen.’

The Colemans, the few of us that there were, had never been a family that pretended to be anything other than what we were. My uncle had been gay; my mother was a workaholic and a feminist. I’d taken a while to discover who I was, but when I’d found out, I’d been accepted for it. Even Joel and his family invited everyone in without question and so this was a new experience for me, to see someone pretending. It felt wrong to me that Charlie should have to put on this show for his parents, who must know the actual truth that he didn’t hold much stock in the faith he’d been brought up in, but then I guess every family has its own ways.

The word ‘Amen’ echoed around the table. I mouthed the words but didn’t say them out loud. This wasn’t my faith; it felt wrong for me to join in. Everyone crossed themselves, except me and the sound of spoons being picked up made me feel safe in going back to mine.

‘So,’ Ava began, turning her eyes to me and sparking a firework show of anxiety that crackled in my chest, ‘how did you two meet?’

Shit! I hadn’t had the forethought to come up with a story. We hadn’t corroborated facts or agreed on a convincing lie. I was certain that the Stones weren’t a family who would openly discuss their mental health, let alone the fact that I’d gotten to know their son when he called a mental health support line, on the night he planned to kill himself. I purposefully spooned an extra-large spoonful of stew into my mouth and apologised with my eyes as I chewed, under the pretext of not wanting to speak with my mouth full.

‘Nell and I met at a café. We got to