The kettle sounded from the kitchen, tightening the small space in the living room, collapsing the walls in on itself.

I heard it raining, but we hadn’t pulled the blinds up yet. It would only serve to make a depressing scene even worse.

I remember looking up at Jess.

She looked at Destiny, sleeping in the cot next to the TV, blissfully unaware of the suffocating silence.

A random soap opera played on it.

The kettle clicked off.

The walls stopped caving in as someone made an attempt to expand the collapsed silence with words.

“I’ll make it,” Cara said. “Jess, d’you take milk? Sugar?”

I remember thinking, God, we don’t even know how to make tea for the woman.

“Just milk‘s fine, Cara,” Dad answered for her. Then he looked straight at me. “Go help your sister.” He acted like making tea was a two person job.

I got his hint, and followed Cara into the kitchen.

On my way out, I looked at Jess again. Her throat bulged, like she was trying not to cry.

Dad put his hand on her shoulder, and I looked away, like I’d seen something obscene.

It wasn’t though, was it?

She’d just lost her niece, hadn’t she?

Cara poured the milk by the time I got there.

“I’ve already made it, Aiden,” She said simply, handing me the chipped Man City mug meant for Jess.

I looked in the sink. There was one spoon in there, milky tea pooled in its centre, yes, but no sugar crystals lying around it.

“No you haven’t. Dad and I take sugar, remember?”

“You can add your sugar,” She nodded towards the pot next to the kettle. “Dad said just milk, didn’t he?” She wrapped her hands around her mug, leaning back against the countertop. She took a sip, even if it was too hot to drink.

“I’m sure he was talking for Jess. He always takes sugar,” I protested.

“Alright, then. Add the sugar.” Cara shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.” She took Jess’ mug from me and carried both their tea out, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

I took a clean spoon out of the drawer, digging it into the sugar. One for Dad, two for me.

Mum always used to say that it was an awful habit to get into, having two full teaspoons of sugar in something we drink so often. I never listened to her.

The teaspoon clinked against the mug as I stirred it in.

I sighed, spoon still clinking against Dad’s mug.

I throw it into the sink, sugar crystals surrounded by rings of milky brown in the metal.

Then I just stared at the clock for ten minutes. I didn’t want to go back into the living room, not when grief was hanging heavy over it.

I opened my phone to text my friends that I would be in England for however long while the funeral happens. I put off texting Drew, just because I wasn’t prepared for the inevitable overwhelm of heart emoji’s and smiley faces he’d send.

I brought my own tea to my lips.

It was cold.

She rushed in, head tilted to keep her phone next to her ear while she struggled with the lighter.

“Aiden, hi,” she said. “I’m gonna call my brother.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” I said, not sure if I should’ve said something about Niamh herself. “You gonna have a smoke?” I asked, staring at the lighter in her hand, the cigarette held between her teeth.

“I was, but if you wanna hang out here, it’s fine. Sorry; I can go outside. Should do that, anyways.” She’s fully aware of the fact that Cara’s asthmatic, but always overly apologetic.

I can never truly hate her, even if I really should.

I opened the kitchen curtains. There was, in fact, torrential Irish downpour.

I didn’t care who she was; I was not letting her stand in the bucketing rain while she called her newly childless brother.

“No, it’s fine. I can go.” I poured my cold tea down the sink, and shut the door on my way out.

It closed louder than I wanted, making it seem like I had slammed it.

I hadn’t.

I gave Dad his tea.

He didn’t want sugar anyways.

He still drank it.

Jess sits in the front, and I can tell she’s really trying not to cry.

She’s nice. I mean, I can see coming home and sitting down and having dinner table conversation with her. I can see her in the passengers seat while I drive for the first time. I can see her sitting at the coffee table while I open my Junior Cert results. I can see Cara and Destiny and I at their wedding in four months’ time.

But she’s never going to be the person who wiped the cut I got at the playground when I was eight, I think, running my finger over the scar on my bicep. She’s never going to be the one who got me the ice cream that I swore was the only cure for my cold when I was ill. She’s never gonna be the one who went out to the shops at 5AM to get me the cupcakes for my year three bake sale I forgot to mention.

She’s gonna be my step-mum. And, I think, she’s always gonna be my step-mum.

I guess it’s not fair to judge her, when only three months into living with her, her niece dies. A mourning person is never themselves. Mum would know, using Grandad’s death as an excuse to be an awful human.

Now we have Jess.

And Destiny.

My half sister.

I don’t think Niamh knew about Destiny before she died. I’d only really seen her and her siblings on call before this.

So, this is how we meet our step-family.

Circumstances could be better.

Niamh seemed nice.

Dad sucks his teeth.

“Cara, turn your headphones down. I can hear them from here.”

“What?” Cara takes an earbud out, and it practically vibrates in her hand from the volume.

“Turn your bloody music down,” I say, turning to her.

“Aiden. Not in front of the baby,” Dad says.

“What? I didn’t swear.”

Dad glares at me in the mirror, and jerks his head towards Jess, mouthing something about not wanting to fight. I get his point, shut up, and resign myself to staring out the window again.

Destiny starts fussing. She hasn’t truly calmed down since we got off the ferry. I find the toy she likes in her bag, the mirror that’s shaped like a cow, and dangle it in front of her. She cheers up almost immediately, reaching out for it and smiling. She starts babbling “Adey” like she’s trying to say my name.

Jess looks back at us.

“She’s really enjoying that thing, isn’t she?” She looks at Destiny.

“Yeah, she loves it,” I say.

“Hi, baby,” Jess reaches her hand out towards Destiny, then starts playing peek-a-boo with her, leaving them both laughing.

“She’s so cute,” Cara smiles, then puts her earbuds back in.