Putting Out the Stars Read Free Page B

to manoeuvre the struggling fish into the huge net that Breffni, weak with
laughter, was holding over the boat’s rail. Their host watched in amusement, ready to take over if the fish looked like escaping.
    ‘Hold that blasted thing steady, would you?’ Laura heaved the rod in the direction of the wildly wavering net. ‘This weighs a ton.’
    Breffni braced herself against the rail, giggling helplessly. ‘I’m trying, honest – Jesus, the size of that fish! Don’t let him pull you overboard – I’ve no
intention of jumping in after you.’ She looked back at the boat owner, still grinning widely. ‘Carl, I think the fisherman needs a bit of help here – she’s having trouble
landing her catch.’
    They had barbecued salmon with the cousins that evening on Baker Beach, and belted out a fairly accurate version of ‘The Dock of the Bay’ after several lite beers.
    Back in Ireland, Laura started her commercial art course at the end of September and Breffni, determined never to set foot in an educational institution again, got a job behind the reception
desk in a solicitor’s office. They met almost as much as ever, keeping up to date with their different lifestyles. Occasionally, Breffni stayed the night in the flat Laura had escaped to
after leaving school – thank God Dad had agreed to fund the rent. He could see how things were, how they’d always been between Laura and her mother. As soon as she moved out, Laura got
a part-time job in The White House pub, determined not to cost her father any more than she had to.
    Over a year later, with Christmas just around the corner, Laura got a phone call.
    ‘Brace yourself – Andrew asked me out.’
    ‘Andrew who?’ Laura tried to drag her thoughts away from the department-store logo she was trying to design. She’d never have something ready by Friday.
    Breffni snorted down the line. ‘What do you mean, Andrew who? Andrew your brother, you eejit. Andrew who grew up in the same house as you.’
    ‘Our Andrew? Andrew my little brother asked you out? You have got to be kidding.’ Laura laughed, sure it was another of Breffni’s jokes.
    Breffni sounded mildly annoyed. ‘Why? Why shouldn’t he ask me out? What’s wrong with me?’
    Laura stopped laughing. ‘God, you’re serious. My brother wants to go out with you.’
    ‘What’s so strange about that? Why shouldn’t he fancy me?’
    Why indeed? Men had always been drawn to Breffni. But Andrew . . . ‘I’m not surprised that he fancies you, it’s not that; it’s just that he’s my little brother
–’
    ‘Stop calling him your little brother. He’s a head taller than you, and he’s eighteen, only a year and a bit younger than me. And you know I’ve always thought he’s
a right hunk.’
    ‘God, stop – I can’t think about him like that. You’re not really going to go out with him though, are you?’
    Breffni’s voice had more than a hint of annoyance in it now. ‘Yeah, I am actually. We’re going to Gerry Flannery’s for a drink tomorrow night.’ She paused before
addding, ‘I hope you’re not going to be funny about it.’
    Laura considered: her brother and her best friend. It definitely felt . . . odd; but then again, why shouldn’t they go out together, just because Breffni was her friend? ‘No, of
course I’m not going to be funny about it . . . it’s just – I suppose it’s just a bit . . . unexpected, that’s all.’
    Breffni’s voice softened. ‘So you won’t disown me if I fall head over heels?’
    Laura laughed again. ‘With my little – oh sorry, I mean with my much taller brother? Hardly. Ah, what the heck – go for a drink with him. Where’s the harm?’
    And they did go. And a few days after that, they went to the cinema. And then Laura got used to the idea of her brother and her best friend together, and stopped marvelling at the fact that
she’d never seen Breffni so . . . contented. It wasn’t that she and Laura spent all day talking about