been slowing down the traffic. I look into the rear view mirror and see that the kids are pressing their faces against the glass, trying to see what's going on. 'Don't stare,' I shout at them. I can't help but look myself. Looks like the police have sealed off the entrance to one of the roads which leads off Maple Street.
'Twenty quid,' Lizzie continues. Bloody hell, she's not going to give up. 'Are you telling me you can't find twenty quid to feed your family?'
'Yes,' I answer, trying hard not to get annoyed, 'that's exactly what I'm telling you.' I'm determined she's not going to get the better of me today, no matter how hard she tries. 'I haven't got twenty quid and even if I had, why should I spend it on a meal when we've got a freezer full of food at home? At home we can eat twice as much for half the cost.'
'When was the last time we ate out?'
'When was the last time I had enough money to take us out?'
'Come on, Danny…'
I'm not even going to answer. I'll keep my mouth shut and concentrate on driving. She does this to me too often. She's like a dog with a bone. She won't let go. She just keeps nagging and piling on the pressure until I relent just to shut her up.
Not today.
I caved in. I'm disappointed with myself but it was inevitable. She just wouldn't stop. She kept on and on at me all the way here. I figured I could either relent and take the hit to my wallet or I could stand my ground and risk a whole weekend of grief and her not talking to me. When I walked into the pub and smelled the food and looked at the menu my resistance crumbled. Pathetic really.
We've been waiting for our dinner for almost half an hour now and I'm starting to think they might have forgotten our order. We're tucked out of the way in a corner of the main dining area and the place is heaving. It's Saturday lunchtime so I expected it to be busy but not like this. The long, horseshoe-shaped bar is surrounded by a crowd of bodies several drinkers deep. I should have seen it coming really. There's a football match on this afternoon. It's a local derby between two teams at the bottom of the table and there's a lot at stake for both sides. The ground the match is being played at is only fifteen minutes walk from here. Most of the people crammed in here seem to be supporters enjoying their traditional pre-match drinking session. I bet the place will empty after kick-off but we'll be long gone by then. The supporters from both sides seem to be tolerating each other but the noise in here is deafening and I feel uneasy. Maybe I'm just on edge after what happened at the concert last night. I'm worried that there's going to be trouble. Lizzie's thinking the same thing, I can see it in her face. She keeps looking around the crowd and frowning. She's noticed that I'm looking at her now and her expression has suddenly changed.
'Okay?' she asks, trying to sound relaxed and happy but failing to convince me.
'Great,' I grunt. 'No food yet and I can't hear myself think.'
Ellis reaches across the table and tugs at my sleeve.
'Don't do that,' I snap.
'When's dinner coming?'
'When it's ready.'
'When will that be?'
'I don't know.'
'Just be patient,' Liz tells her. 'As soon as they've cooked it someone will bring it over to us.'
'I want it now,' she states, not interested in any excuses or explanations. 'I'm hungry.'
'We're all hungry, love. As soon as it's ready they'll bring it over to us and…'
'Want it now,' she says again.
'Did you hear what Mum just said?' I hiss at her, my patience rapidly wearing thin. 'Just shut up and wait. Your dinner will be here when…'
I stop talking. Smashing glass. There's a sudden roar of noise from deep within the crowd around the bar. I stare into the mass of faded denim and football shirts looking for trouble. I can't see anything. I'm relieved when I can hear laughs and jeers amongst the noise.
'What's up?' Lizzie asks me.
'Nothing,' I answer. 'Can't see anything…'
A very drunk, beer-soaked football fan staggers past our table on the way to the toilet. A member of the bar staff carrying a dustpan and brush passes them going the other way. Looks like it was a spilled drink, nothing more serious.
Our food finally arrives. My mouth starts watering and my stomach is growling but I can't eat yet. Another one of the joys of parenthood. Josh is sitting next to me and I now have to go through the well-rehearsed routine of cutting up his dinner and smothering it in tomato sauce before I can start mine. Both Liz and Ellis are well into their meals by the time I finally manage to pick up my knife and fork.
'Is it all right?' she asks me before I've finished my first mouthful. Christ, give me a second to taste it first.
'Fine,' I answer. 'Yours?'
She nods and chews.
For a blissful minute or two the table is quiet. The rest of the pub is still filled with noise but with everyone temporarily distracted by their food there's a welcome pause in our conversation. It doesn't last long.
'I want to go and see Dad tomorrow,' Lizzie says. 'That all right with you?' I nod my head as I eat. I'm not surprised. We seem to end up over at Harry's house most Sunday afternoons. We see him virtually every day now since he agreed to look after Josh so that Liz can go to work. She's a classroom assistant at the school Ed and Ellis go to. Harry's not happy about it but he does it because he knows how much we need the money.
'Okay,' I answer, finally swallowing my food, 'we'll go over in the afternoon.'
'He's been really good to us recently,' she continues. 'I don't want him to think that we're just going to keep taking.'
'Like your sister does?'
'Leave Dawn alone. She's been struggling since Mark left.'
'Best move that bloke ever made,' I say, perhaps unfairly. 'She struggled when they were together. She'll struggle whatever happens.'
'Come on, don't be unkind. It's not easy for her being on her own with the kids. I don't know how I'd cope.'
'You'd just get on with it. You'd find a way of getting by, we both would. The problem is your sister is too quick to look for the easy option all the time. What she needs is someone to…'
A sudden, unexpected and very loud clattering noise interrupts me. It's Josh. He's dropped his fork on the floor. I bend down and pick it up before cleaning it on a paper napkin and passing it back to him.
'What she needs,' Lizzie continues, taking over where I left off, 'is some space and more time to try and come to terms with what happened and what he did. She didn't deserve any of it. You can't do that to someone and then just expect them to…'
'I'm not saying she deserved anything, I just think that…'
Another clatter of metal on floor tile. I pick up Josh's fork for the second time, clean it and pass it back. He grins at me.
'All I'm saying is that…'
Josh drops his fork again. Now I'm really starting to lose my patience. I pick it up, clean it and slam it down on the table next to his plate. He squeals with laughter. Irritating little sod.
'Do that again and we're going home,' I threaten.
'Just ignore him,' Lizzie says, still managing to eat her food. I've hardly touched mine. 'He's only doing it because he's getting a reaction from you. The more you react, the more he'll do it.'
I know she's right but it's hard to keep calm. I try and concentrate on my dinner but I can feel Josh staring at me, desperate to make eye contact. I cringe as the fork hits the ground again. I know I shouldn't but I can't stop myself from reacting. I grab the fork off the floor and hold it in front of him, just out of his reach.
'Fork…' he whines.
'Danny…' Lizzie warns.
