Read The Accidental Life of Greg Millar for Free Online Page B

Grace’s husband, shares the top percentile with her in looks, intelligence and in all that matters to society. They are a Mary Poppins couple: practically perfect in every way. There have been times I’ve caught Kevin looking at me as though thinking, ‘Thank God, I got the good sister.’ Which makes me glad he did. I can’t imagine being married to someone so judgemental. Not that it’s a problem for my sister. The only thing that keeps Grace and me on the same side is our mother. Even the perfect daughter isn’t quite good enough for her.

    I sit on my bed in Brendan’s rugby jersey. I take his photo from its frame and press it to my cheek. It feels cold and one-dimensional. Because it is. A cheap imitation. But it’s all I have. I look into the eyes that once swept me off my feet – and kept me off them – for two magical years – right till the end. I run my finger over his mouth. And I’m crying.
    ‘I’ll never stop loving you. You know that. I’ll never forget.’
    And maybe it’s my imagination, but I hear his voice – so clear ly – in my head, a voice that says, ‘Be happy.’
    It’s what he would say.

7.
    G reg slips the ring onto my finger and sweeps me up into his arms, kissing me over and over until I’m laughing.
    ‘So, when can we do this?’ he asks.
    I pull back. ‘When Rachel and Toby are ready, Greg. I don’t want to descend on them. They have their own lives.’
    ‘They’ll love you.’
    I smile nervously. ‘I hope so.’
    ‘You’ll have to meet them!’ He thinks for a second. ‘I know, we’ll have a barbecue, and invite Rob.’ I wait for him to suggest the only other member of his family – his mother – but he doesn’t. ‘So, how about Saturday?’
    ‘Saturday?’ Only two days away. After all that Grace has said, I panic.
    ‘My place,’ he says.
    I look at him. This is my future now; I can’t run from it. ‘All right, then,’ I say with false jollity.
    Greg starts planning vegetarian options while I try to remember everything my sister said about stepchildren.

    Greg comes to take me to his home, which will become my home, to meet his children, who will become my stepchildren. If I hadn’t spoken to Grace, would I be as nervous? I feel as if I’m going for an audition. If I arrive with presents, will they think I’m trying to win them over? If not, will they think me mean? Greg has told me not to worry about gifts. Did he check with the children, though? And what should I wear? I don’t want to look too young and highlight the age difference. Nor do I want to look as if I’m dressing like I’m trying to be their mother. Though Greg has already told me a lot about Rachel and Toby, all the way there I bombard him wit h questions .
    ‘Stop worrying, you’ll be fine.’
    We’re driving along one of the most beautiful coastal roads in Dublin when Greg indicates and swings into a driveway. Up ahead looms something more than a house. It’s the kind of place that might be chosen for celebrity weddings. It has turrets. And grounds. It doesn’t just overlook the sea, it’s right on it. A blue, blue sea with little white caps.
    ‘My God, Greg!’
    He dismisses it as ‘bricks and mortar’.
    ‘A lot of bricks and mortar.’
    ‘Could all be gone in the morning; nothing’s certain in life.’
    One thing’s certain to me: Greg’s home has to be worth millions . This is life on a different scale. While I’m trying to digest this, he jumps from the car, comes round and opens my door. He takes my hand and we crunch gravel till we get to the steps. He slips a key into the lock. But there is no grand tour.
    ‘They were out the back when I left. Let’s go see.’
    I catch a fleeting glimpse of old and new – original features combined with stripped wooden floors and architectural furniture. I want to stop and admire the art – all modern, all wonderful. Oh, and there’s a library! He drags me on.
    We reach the patio. On a newly cut lawn, bordered by