14 December 2014
His head was banging as if there was a flock of carpenters hammering at his temples. As he became aware of himself he felt the horrible taste in his mouth. He'd had one too many at the party last night. He didn't regret it though. It had been a great party, wonderful to see all of his mates like that, coming to give him a decent send-off. Yeah, he'd told everyone he'd decided to pack his things and move back to Hollyoaks. Siobhan agreed with him that he needed to give it another go, getting back with John Paul, and she offered to keep the belongings he didn't need to begin with until he'd found a place to live.
He stumbled out of bed, went to the toilet and found some painkillers before heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He found one clean glass left in the cupboard and managed to squeeze it in between the dirty dishes in the sink. Something seemed to be missing, he just couldn't put his finger on it.
Finally, he just shrugged it off, took the medicine and refilled the glass with water before going back to bed.
A couple of hours later he woke up again to find Siobhan in the kitchen, doing the dishes.
"Any coffee?" He asked as he opened the fridge.
"Yeah, there should be a couple of cups left. But Craig," she paused, "can you remember where we put the frying pan last night?"
"I just left it on the table, next to the sink. Why?" He asked as he poured himself a cup.
"It's not there. And I can't find it anywhere. There were some leftovers in it, as well, right?" She looked back from where she was standing at the sink.
"Sure, yeah, I'd been looking forward to having a bit now."
"Me too. Any chance you might have had some when you got up earlier?" She saw the surprised look on his face. "Yeah, I heard you."
"Okay, I thought you were asleep. No, I didn't have any. Come to think of it, I actually noticed that something was missing, but didn't realise what it was. It must be here somewhere, though. I can remember taking it back, putting it there. I'll check the living room, okay." He headed out the door.
"No, I've already checked there. Also in the fridge, all the cupboards and the oven. It's nowhere! You don't think…?" She didn't finish the question.
Craig did. "No, none of our friends would have taken it. Maybe hidden it for us, as a prank, but not stolen it, for sure. Okay, I'll look around the flat. Dean or Huw might have put it somewhere before they left.
He left the kitchen and headed to the living room. He started by checking all drawers and cupboards, under the sofa and chairs, behind the telly. No frying pan there. Nor in the bathroom, the extra bedroom or any of the small cupboards and closets scattered about the flat and the common areas of the house.
He'd just entered the kitchen again to report back to Siobhan, when he was reminded of the small space in the attic. They'd never used it, but he remembered his landlord pointing it out to them when they went to see the flat. He left again, holding a chair, and went back to the hallway where there was a trapdoor in the ceiling. He stepped on top of the chair and reached up for the small hook and pulled it open. A narrow wooden ladder automatically slid down. He went down from the chair, pushed it back and secured the ladder before ascending it.
Once upstairs he couldn't find any light switch, so he reached for his mobile in his pocket and put the torch app on. There were a few old things from previous inhabitants scattered about, and lo and behold, there was the frying pan, near the far corner. He climbed all the way upstairs and made his way across the half-finished floor. He picked up the frying pan and turned around. Surprised to see that all the remains had been cleaned off, he just missed the short feet of the tiny man hiding in the corner.
"John Paul, you're joining me."
It wasn't a question and he knew better than argue with his mother.
"Theresa will take care of Matthew. I've already arranged it. Just jump in the shower and get ready."
Her son obeyed his mother and headed for the bathroom.
An hour later they were standing outside the church. Usually this is where the journey would end for John Paul, those few times she asked him to take her to church, but for some reason he decided to enter with his mum this time around.
The interior was like he remembered it. They walked up the aisle and took a seat in one of the pews. A few minutes later, mass started, but he didn't really follow the proceedings, but sat there thinking about the previous times he'd been to mass. It didn't stop him, though, from noticing that there was a new priest, a good-looking blond man, probably in his mid-thirties.
Little by little, his self-awareness diminished and he felt himself drift off, as if he'd fallen asleep. Still, he felt that he remained awake somehow, as he tuned in to the sermon.
It intrigued him. Not that it was totally different from the previous sermons he'd heard. In fact, it reminded him a lot of some of the things Kieron would discuss with him. Yet, there was a different tone, less argumentative, less moralistic, more inclusive, as he spoke of Christ's role as the saviour of the poor and the mistreated, the cast-outs and the ill. Without preaching, he cleverly reminded the congregation of the true essence of Christmas, and John Paul felt better than he'd felt in a long time, when he regained, for a lack of better words, consciousness.
Myra smiled knowingly at him as she whispered, "I told you he was good," before rising to her feet and joining the queue for communion. John Paul remained in his seat.
After the service Myra hung back, talking to some members of the congregation her son had seen before but wasn't really acquainted with. John Paul headed down the aisle, but just as he reached the door, the priest came walking back inside.
"Oh, hello, I'm Father Daniel. I haven't seen you here before. You're Myra's son."
It was a statement, rather than a question, but John Paul replied all the same. "Yeah, I'm John Paul."
They shook hands.
"So what brings you to church?" The priest asked.
"My mum," John Paul let out a short giggle. When the priest didn't comment he continued. "And when we got here, something told me that I should enter."
"Sure, something." Father Daniel smiled at him. "Feel like talking about your experience today?"
"Not particularly. It was better than expected, I guess."
The father remained silent, but watched the younger man intently.
"I liked your sermon, very down to earth. Not the old 'you're going to hell' speech that I've heard so often from the church." John Paul felt his irritation and anger surface as he spoke.
"So why should you be going to hell?" Father Daniel asked him kindly.
"Because I'm gay." John Paul replied defensively.
"Is that so?" The priest nodded seriously. "Anything you want to talk to me about?"
"What? Changing? No, not at all." John Paul turned and prepared to storm off.
"No, I don't wanna change you, no, but perhaps you'd like to discuss how you can be happier, with the religion you're brought up with." Father Daniel remained calm.
"So you're trying to tell me that I can be both gay and catholic without going to hell?" John Paul snarled back sceptically.
"I believe so, yes. That's what I truly believe, and that's what my friend Kieron believed as well. You knew him, I gather."
John Paul felt the anger disappear as his feet got stuck to the floor. "You knew Kieron?"
"Yes, we did seminary together." Father Daniel explained. "He was a little younger than me and we became good friends. Actually, I was the first person to ask him whether he was gay." He laughed quietly. "My best friend from school's gay so I recognised the signs. Was probably a bit inconsiderate of me to ask like that, but there you go. He struggled with his faith, but decided that celibacy was the right way forward for him. Guess it was me who was right about that."
"What do you mean?" John Paul asked.
"I don't know whether I should open up like this, but I don't really believe in the necessity for celibacy to be a good priest. It's worked for me, until now, at least, but Kieron was so full of love to give that it was only a matter of time before he'd fall in love. Your mum has told me all about your relationship with him." Father Daniel explained.
"She was very fond of him, you know." John Paul commented.
"I know. Anyway, it's been nice talking to you, John Paul. I hope you'll return. My office is always open for my congregation, if you ever feel like talking some more. I better see to the few remaining sheep." He offered his hand to John Paul who shook it quickly.
"Sure," he whispered, a moment after the priest had left him standing there by the door.