MARK

Thirteen years earlier

Dublin, October 2004

“Mark Keegan! What the hell?” Fifteen-year-old Grace snatched her brother by the ear.

“Ow! Christ, Gracie!” Mark dropped a half-empty bottle of cider onto the grass and his eyes flew to his recently acquired friends, a group of boys known for drinking, skipping class, and talking back at teachers.

“Swigging booze in the park during lunch? Jesus, Mark, you’re only twelve!”

“Let go of me—”

Mark’s friends laughed and taunted him. “Oooh, Keegan, gettin’ beat up by your sister? Ya big wuss!”

“Gracie! Let go!”

“Embarrassed are you, Fappy? Tough!” She yanked his ear and marched him out of the park, their feet crunching and kicking through piles of crumpled brown leaves.

“Where are we going?”

“Home for a bollocking, you little wanker.”

“But class starts in ten minutes—”

“Like you care! No wonder your grades have sucked lately.” Grace exchanged his ear for the arm of his jacket and dug in her fingers. “Shut up and be thankful you’re dealing with me and not Mum. She’s doing a double shift at the dry cleaners, so your arse is mine.”

“You can’t do this.” He tried to shake his sister off. “You’re not in charge of me!” Mark tugged his arm away, sending a packet of cigarettes to the ground.

“Jesus!” Grace snapped up the evidence. “Smoking, too? What else have you been doing? Have you been getting high with those idiots? Because I know all about them, Mark. They’re losers. They spend most afternoons in detention—”

“Lay off, Gracie. You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand all right.” She waved the cigarette package in his face. “Every night last week? You weren’t at footy practice, were you? You were in detention, admit it!”

Mark swiped at her hand but missed. “Gracie, give them back. Please don’t tell Mum. Come on! Give ’em, back!”

She stashed the cigarettes in her bag. “Was it for leaving school grounds during lunch like today? Or mitching class…or drinking? Is that what you do these days? Sneak off on the way back from gym class? Meet your new eejit friends in the park, smoke some fucking weed?! Tell me, or I’m marching you straight to Mum right now!”

Mark had never seen his sister so angry with him and knew she wasn’t bluffing. “I’ve only tried it a few times…”

“Once is too bloody many!” She shoved him towards their semi-detached house. “Get your arse inside before someone sees you.”

Grace slammed the front door behind them. “Mark, what the FUCK! Are you really this thick? Don’t you see that you’re throwing your life away? What’s Mum gonna say? Do you have any idea what this will do to her?”

“Don’t tell her then. Christ, Gracie, just…leave me the fuck alone!”

“Listen, you have to stop this shit, NOW! Dad’s been dead for nine weeks, and you going off the rails like this, becoming a bad lad—that’s just not you, Mark.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’ll stop—I promise.”

“A promise? From you? That’s worth NOTHING, and you know it. All you do lately is lie.” She shook her head furiously. “I can only hide so much of your crap from Mum. Are you hell-bent on hurting her? Didn’t you learn anything two weeks ago?”

“I didn’t do that on purpose—”

“Oh, come on. That was a dirty tackle. You almost broke that poor kid’s leg, and everyone saw it. Do you think your coach suspended you for nothing? Look, I know your heart is broken with everything that’s happened, Mark—mine is too! But you can’t take out your anger on the football pitch or hang around with those louts, trying to blot out your feelings with drugs and booze.”

Mark’s cheeks grew pink with anger. “So, what? You want me to smile? Pretend everything is great? Act like happy little Mark, the way I was before he…” Mark swallowed heavily. “Sorry, Gracie, I can’t. No, I won’t! I like hanging out with Cathal and his mates. It’s not hurting anyone, so mind your own business.”

“Jesus, are you serious? After everything you’ve put this family through already—” Grace bit her tongue, but it was too late.

“I knew it!” Mark’s eyes filled with tears. “You blame me, don’t you? You and Mum, you blame ME—”

“Oh, God, no—Mark, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry—”

“No, go on, I wanna hear you say it, Gracie! Don’t stop. SAY IT! It’s ALL my fault—all of it. If it wasn’t for me—”

“Don’t do this to yourself…not again.” Grace began to cry. She leaned over and pulled her brother to her chest. “Nobody blames you, Mark.”

In her embrace, Mark’s expression turned from fury to anguish and a flood of hot tears overwhelmed his cheeks. The Keegan siblings crumpled to the living room floor, sobbing in each other’s arms, their loss still raw.

After a few minutes, Grace broke through their tears.

“It wasn’t anybody’s fault, Fappy. It was God’s will or fate or something.”

Mark wiped his nose with his sleeve. “What do you know…you’re only fifteen.”

“I know more than you do.” She handed him a tissue. “So, you better listen to me, or I’ll box your ears again, you little eejit.”

They sat in silence for a minute.

“Gracie, do you ever wish you were someone else?”

She snickered. “Sure, Britney bloody Spears.”

“Not popstars, just a normal everyday person…but with a happier life.”

“No, not really. I wish I could’ve swapped places with you, though, just for five minutes…”

“Me? Why?”

“I would give anything to have talked to Dad like you did, one last time. You were so lucky, being awake that morning. What did he say exactly? Tell me again, Mark.”

“Gracie, you know what he said. You’ve asked me a hundred times, and I’ve told you a hundred times.”

“But tell me again.”

Mark told her for the one hundred and first time.

Grace smiled. “There you go. You made a sacred promise, and Keegans never break their promises, right? Please, Mark, promise you’ll keep your word to Dad, from today onwards?”

Mark nodded solemnly. “I promise.”