The Serpent's Skin by Erina Reddan (top 5 books to read .txt) 📕

my hand. ‘What?’

‘Just… don’t.’ I looked away searching for the thing to say.

‘You’ve changed your tune,’ he spat at me.

‘He asked me not to tell you. Any of you. He thinks you won’t forgive him. And…’ I paused again. ‘He’s suffered so much already.’

‘Daddy’s little girl is finally putting down the knife?’

I shrugged.

‘So what? That’s it?’ he said.

I shrugged again.

‘You gone all chickenshit?’

‘What the hell, Tim? You all let him lie to you over and over, right to your face. I was the only one.’

‘So why you giving up now?’

‘Because that’s the big secret he’s been covering up. It was one time before Philly. And he’s paid for the crime a million times over.’

‘That was it, then.’ His voice broke. ‘Mum found out and she left?’

I fell against the wall. I told Tim what I knew about how it all happened.

‘It just doesn’t feel enough. Not after all this time,’ he said when I finished.

I knew exactly what he meant.

AN UNEXPECTED CLUE

Ijumped at the sudden knocking on the other side of my door. ‘Come on. You don’t stay in bed all day unless you’ve got someone hot in it with you,’ yelled Rocco. He banged on the door again.

‘How do you know I don’t?’ I pulled the doona over my head. ‘Go away.’

The thing was, nothing but staying in bed made any sense. Hard to believe you could be skun by a tiny, banal truth. But maybe this paralysis was more because of the massive ocean of guilt that I nearly fatally wounded my father over a concocted mystery I’d blown too much oxygen into.

‘We’re taking you out,’ Roco called.

I burrowed deeper into my bed. ‘No thanks.’

‘If I can gird my loins…’ came Marge’s voice.

I swore.

Rocco smashed the door open.

‘For fuck’s sake, Rocco,’ I said, poking my face out.

‘Have some pride, woman.’ He picked up a dress from the back of a chair and threw it at me. ‘Get dressed.’

‘Tye’s coming over,’ I said.

‘So he said on the phone just now,’ said Rocco. ‘He’s meeting us at the pub.’

‘Then that’s what I’ll do, too. I’ll meet you there.’

‘Good idea,’ said Marge. ‘Make sure you take the time to run a comb through that nest.’

‘Nah.’ Rocco crossed his arms. ‘We’ll wait right here for you.’

Rocco bumped a schooner of beer down in front of Marge. Rat-Tail leaned forwards to wipe the foam that spilled over the edge.

‘Get your own,’ said Marge, getting the glass into her hands fast.

‘Yours is still at the bar, mate.’ Rocco put another before me and took his own chair.

‘Yeah. Cheers,’ said Rat-Tail. He sat there staring at me.

‘If you want that beer, Rat-Tail,’ I said.

‘Yeah.’ He stood up. ‘Your eyes are a real nice blue.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, feeling a microscopic point of colour in all the blah.

‘Be better when you get rid of those bags underneath, but,’ he said and took off.

‘Cheers,’ said Rocco, laughing. ‘Told him to be nice to you.’

‘Good job,’ I said.

‘Have you heard from the council?’ I asked Marge, making an effort.

‘They ruled against me,’ she said. ‘Said the boarding house isn’t fit for a person with specific needs like me. I told them it wasn’t fit for any of you lot either, then, seeing as you’re all a bit special too.’

‘Ha ha,’ said Rocco.

‘They’re just waiting for a place in a lovely, boring nursing home to come up before they move me out.’

‘How long will it take, do you think?’ I asked.

She shrugged. ‘The longer, the better.’

‘It’s not a prison,’ I said.

‘Good as: they lock the doors to keep the loony ones in.’

I grimaced and took a sip off the head of my beer.

‘But we’re here about you, not me. I’m a lost cause, being old and all, but you’ve got your whole life before you. What’s got into you?’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked, although I didn’t even have the energy for putting on much faux innocence.

She pursed her lips and gave me a long, disapproving look.

‘What do you want from me?’ I dropped my head, like it weighed a tonne, onto my knuckles, elbows on the table.

She rolled her eyes. ‘We’ve convened the Inquisition, now you just answer the questions.’

I shrugged.

‘How’s your father?’ she asked.

‘Still alive, no thanks to me.’

‘Hey.’ Tye appeared, smiling his dancing smile and leaning over to kiss Marge, high-five Rocco and pull me into him. ‘Has it started, then?’

‘So you’re in on this, too?’ I asked, pushing away.

‘Course.’ He laughed, pulling me back. ‘You need a bit of sense talked into you. All this detective business,’ he tapped my head, ‘disturbs your brain.’

‘You and your father on speaking terms again?’ asked Marge.

I shrugged. Told them there wasn’t much to tell after all these dark years.

‘So he’s a saint now?’ asked Marge.

I put my head on the side and gave her a questioning look about how hard she was going.

‘We’re cutting you off,’ Rocco said, sliding Marge’s beer away from her into the middle of the table.

Marge wiped the table with her hanky. ‘It’s just that I know your father—’

‘No, you don’t.’

‘What I’m saying, if you let me finish…’ She folded her handkerchief to trap the wet inside. She snapped her bag open and placed it in the inside pocket. All precise.

‘No need to build suspense,’ I said.

‘I know your father because all men are the same.’

‘Steady on,’ said Rocco.

I squeezed Tye’s hand.

‘Back in my day,’ she went on, tipping her head to acknowledge Rocco and Tye, ‘they thought they were living gods.’ She clicked her tongue.

‘Hardly—’ I began.

Rocco put up his hand to stop me interrupting.

‘It was all behind closed doors. Good pillar-of-the-church men in public, but.’ She pulled her glass towards her and looked at me over the rim. ‘The Catholics were the worst of the lot. Men were the head of the household and nobody said a word. Nobody asked questions. You can’t give somebody power without making them accountable. Bad things happen in dark places.’

I blinked. I’d lived a few