In Dublin Airport's sea of suited and booted businessman, Theresa McQueen was a vision as she shimmied her way amongst the crowd in her white faux-fur coat and high pink heels, all the while trying to look dignified yanking on her fluorescent pink suitcase. She was beginning to regret the heels as a choice of travel fashion, but Mercy had always said when going somewhere new you always had to make a great first impression.
And Dublin definitely was somewhere new and unpredictable, somewhere no-one really knew about her the past few years. Even her cousin and his boyfriend, who'd agreed to put her up for a few days, didn't know her that well. Before moving in with her Auntie Myra, Myra's son John Paul had moved out here with his boyfriend Craig and hadn't really visited since. Last time Theresa'd seen John Paul she was thirteen – who knows if he'd even recognise her now? That was the fear Theresa had as she made her way to the entrance of the airport, scanning her eyes for her cousin wondering if she'd recognise him too. Biting her bottom lip, she wondered if it was worth turning back. Theresa never was good at figuring out if she was doing the right thing or not.
"Theresa!" she heard from the left of her, as she turned to see John Paul walking towards her. Suddenly her worry left her, and she excitedly embraced her cousin with a hug and a greeting of hello.
"Look at you, so grown up," John Paul told her. "Last time I saw you, you were kitted out in sequins and a tutu at our Carmel's eighteenth." Theresa had to stop her smile from fading at the mere mention of her cousin Carmel's name.
"No way, that long ago?" Theresa asked. She would had to have been wearing something embarrassing that day, she thought.
"Yeah, you look great."
"Well thanks. Where's the boyfriend?" she enquired, eager to see who was keeping his brother from visiting his family every so often.
"Oh you know, work. Where's the daughter?"
Ah, the million dollar question. Where was Kathleen-Angel, Theresa's daughter, conspicuously absent from this visit?
"She's at home."
As they found themselves in John Paul's car, Theresa found herself getting on with her cousin like he was an old friend she'd known forever. Well, she supposed she had known him forever but they were getting on like two best friends.
"So Michaela's being really hush-hush about why she's back from London, but apparently she was with some guy who was like totally minted, and he proposed to her on some boat but now she's back with us," Theresa was bringing a bewildered John Paul up to date with what had been going on back home. "Auntie Myra's good, a bit too friendly with the guy who lives in a caravan outside our house mind."
"And that's the dad of your ex, and your best mate who thinks she's a singer?" John Paul enquired.
"Yeah, 'im. Libs is a good singer though, she should do a gig here!"
"And how about the rest of them?"
"Yeah, our Mercy's okay. Well as okay as you can be when you've given away your baby to your footballer ex-fiancee. Jacqui's really good, living with Rhys. She's got the cutest little dog too, it's soooooo sweet."
"I still can't believe she's married to Rhys Ashworth," John Paul laughed to himself. "You know we live with his sister right?"
"Who, Hannah?" Theresa hadn't realised there'd be more links to Hollyoaks village in Dublin, and this made her nervous. The last thing she needed was Hannah telling her brother she was here in Dublin, or they'd be in the first ferry over and her new getaway life would be over before it'd begun. "She does know the situation doesn't she?"
"Well, she knows as much as we do. Why are you here, Theresa?"
Back in Hollyoaks, the McQueen sisters were gathered in their kitchen. On front of them on the counter was Theresa's note, read over again and again. It was far from a time of peace in the McQueens' house following Theresa's getaway, having allowed Carmel to regain custody of Kathleen-Angel. Carmel wasn't exactly on speaking terms with her family at the moment, particularly Jacqui. But she was anguished. Something inside her had snapped, and she'd had a sudden urge to see justice done for her Calvin's death.
"This is down to you Carm. She never woulda gone if it weren't for you" Mercedes shouted at her. "Why did you have to go and bring this up again?"
"Oh you would defend her. My Calvin needs justice done!" Carmel was crying, for not the first time that week.
"Really, cos he ent needed it the past year when you've been more than happy to keep your mouth shut." Mercedes retorted.
"Oi, you two. Less of this. We need to find our girl." Myra calmly instructed her daughters.
"Our girl, she's not your daughter, we're your daughters." Carmel cried back, to the disgusted looks of her sisters. Myra's temperature rose, horrified at what Carmel was saying. It was only after she raised her hand and slapped Carmel's face did she realise what she'd done. Theresa leaving was tearing her family apart, making them react in ways they hadn't imagined they would with each other. Carmel had become increasingly isolated, ever since she'd returned from visiting Leo and Sasha in Birmingham.
Michaela hadn't been living with her family when Carmel had found out about Theresa killing her husband. Since returning, she always felt like home was a different place. At first she put it down to Bart being there, but Bart had since left to move back in with his dad. It was still different. Had she grown up, or had everyone else? Regardless, she was stunned by the slap.
"I've had enough of this!" Michaela proclaimed, as she left the kitchen. Jacqui shouted after her, but Myra and Carmel were both too stunned to move.
"Carm are you alright?" Jacqui asked, which seemed to snap Carmel out of her temporary freeze. Gathering Kathleen-Angel from the living room, Carmel put her jacket on and made to leave. As her hand hit the latch door, she turned round to her sisters. "Let me know when she turns up." As soon as she left, she broke into tears.
John Paul's flat was the third storey of a converted four-storey house. Theresa was amazed as she looked up at how tall the building was, in awe despite the fact it was just a normal terraced house.
"This is it, the grand paradise" John Paul jokingly proclaimed as he handed Theresa her suitcase, and made to open the door. Theresa was apprehensive – as she went through the door, she had the feeling there was no going back. And there was something that almost felt good about that. Or at least it did until she got to the stairs. It was the second step of the first flight of stairs where she realised that high heels, a heavy suitcase and living on the third floor wasn't an ideal combination. When the heel broke, she had the horrifying thought she hadn't packed enough shoes. After being forced to take off her shoes, John Paul took her suitcase and seemed to lift it with ease over his shoulder.
"Well, look who's the strong man" Theresa laughed as she followed him up to his flat.
"I have my uses… although what the hell have you got in here, you're only supposed to be here for a few days. It weighs like you've brought half of Jacqui's tacky jewellery with you," he laughed, although the weight of the suitcase made him think twice over just how brief Theresa's "holiday" would be.
Theresa sensed John Paul might be thinking this also, so quipped back with "A woman's got a right to jewellery, don't you know?" causing John Paul to smirk as he put his key in the door.
Theresa was quietly inquisitive as she made her way into John Paul's flat, a small but homely place with three bedrooms. John Paul instructed her towards their spare room, where he put down her suitcase and she looked around, wondering what she could do with the room. Of course there wasn't much she could do with the room, although she saw no reason why she couldn't stay. John Paul had the spare room, she needed a place to escape – surely this was a win-win for everyone.
John Paul was already in the living room when Theresa came in, where Hannah Ashworth was sat glued to an old episode of Jeremy Kyle ("His girlfriend had a fling with his mum, it's very interesting!" she'd proclaimed). As she tore herself away from the war happening on her TV, Hannah greeted her and welcomed Theresa to the flat.
"Hey, it's so great to see you again!" Hannah said, as she got up to give her a welcoming hug.
"Oh, you too!" Theresa replied back, as Hannah took a hold of her fur coat.
"I love this coat, please tell me it's faux fur though."
"Oh yeah, you can borrow it if you like" Theresa replied, awkward to Hannah's surprising warmth towards her. She didn't know why she was surprised, she didn't even really know Hannah at all. Hannah asked how long Theresa was staying for, and Theresa's eyes nervously met with John Paul's.
"Just a few days."