A Fowl Mess 24th December 1995
Sarah and Orla were back next door, probably sound asleep.
Anna and Erin were both tucked away in bed and likely in the same state.
After spending all evening, including at Church, trying to create his own Christmas miracle by killing Gerry, Joe retired to bed in defeat.
Her undamaged husband had said goodnight and Merry Christmas ten minutes prior, but Mary lay next to him, unable to sleep just yet. This Christmas was yet to even reach the peak on the day itself, but Mary could not shake the feeling it was the best she'd ever had. Even with her father's continued bickering with Gerry, the family enjoyed an exceptionally fun Christmas Eve together. Orla's insistence on playing every board game they owned saw plenty of humour, especially during a game of Guess Who when Joe and Gerry locked horns. Gerry coming out the winner wasn't the best result for household tension, but they were all put to sword again and forced into silence during another game of Monopoly as the freshly arrived James showed for the second time why he was the King of the game.
James
Mary could not help but smile to herself as she lay there. She put it at the night of prom, the moment she came off the phone with his response still in her ears. Hearing through conversations at the house how much the young lad enjoyed Doctor Who and the convention he planned to go to, she wouldn't have blamed him if he said no. After all, she was aware he hadn't changed his mind when Clare asked him when Orla recited the story to her that night. But he did for Erin. And the first little thought that perhaps he cared for her daughter in more ways than a friend would, appeared on her wavelength that night. The fact that the two of them often sat together at the house, or when they would arrive back in from school to study, that they would be stood together, could easily be brushed off as nothing more than their friendship. Shelving his long-held plans… just to see Erin happy… when added together it gave a different picture. The wee English fella's decision to leave didn't filter through to Mary until after he changed his mind but the initial thought that negotiated a way to the front of her mind was anger. Quickly residing anger though, because his mother was Kathy Maguire and the days that followed proved to Mary that he was the fine young man she thought he was. Despite his genealogy.
And now he was making her Erin happy. When they returned to the party after what she could only think would have been the most awkward but loving heart to heart conversation in history, the change in Erin was remarkable. The beaming smile on her daughter's face was enough to melt a thousand hearts. James put it there and that made his standing with her increase astronomically. She could tell it…
Hang on
The Turkey…
I don't remember seeing the Turkey earlier…
Mary shot up like a rocket in bed and hyperventilation set in as her mind went from an Englishman to the big Day's dinner.
Did I leave it to Da or Gerry?...
Christ! Did we even discuss it?...
Unable to determine if it was a nightmare, and she was actually asleep or whether they really had forgotten to buy a turkey, Mary acted. Getting out of bed as quietly as she could and putting on her dressing gown, Mary tried not to wake the rest of the house as she crept down the stairs. Muttering prayers to every Saint she could possibly think of, Mary edged forward towards the kitchen with an icy dread in her stomach. Suddenly the best Christmas she could think of hung by a knife edge. Glancing up to the clock, it read a quarter to midnight and the last shop open shut hours ago. The only way they could get a turkey now is if they went out and shot one. Not very likely, with Joe far more likely to try and shoot Gerry and pass him off as the bird.
Trembling, Mary opened the fridge.
The fridge contained enough food to feed the Navy and enough alcohol to keep the town drunks satisfied for a year. It now too contained Mary Quinn's heart because inside the fridge, there was no turkey.
Every single one of them had forgotten about it.
For someone usually so meticulous in her planning, Mary could not quite believe it that she did not notice that they were missing the most important part of the main meal. How could they have been so stupid…
And when it rained it poured. For whilst she was unable to do anything, frozen to the spot and attempting to work out how to salvage Christmas, the light scratching sound of the front window coming open reached her ears. Not only did they not have a turkey on the night before Christmas, but they were also being robbed. She would have to thank the burglar though because for reasons unknown to her, it caused something to snap inside and without hesitation, Mary wielded a frying pan. The poor bastard might not be alive for her to say thank you to when she was done however, for unchecked venom shot through her veins. Creeping closer to the window, she caught sight of a leg finding its way to their living room floor and then the rest of the unfortunate opportunist. They had something in their hands and were so focused on whatever it was that Mary could get right close up behind them unchallenged, lifting the frying pan into the air in wait. Come on ye fecker, turn around…
As the denim jacketed thief began to turn, Mary brought the pan down, ready to strike down the enemy once she saw the whites of their eyes…
James!
Abruptly stopping the pan just centimetres from his head, the Englishman cacked himself and stumbled backwards slightly, almost exiting back out of the window. To say Mary was shocked by it being him would be a contender for the understatement of the century awards.
Why would James be climbing through our window at this time on Christmas Eve. Unless…
He seemed to know exactly the train of thought her mind was on and quickly spoke to change the course of her assumption locomotive.
"This isn't what it looks like". He whispered.
"Then wha—A TURKEY!"
Mary was so focused on assessing him that it had taken until he'd gestured to look down with his own eyes that she saw the object in the Englishman's hands.
"But how…".
"When you left for Church and I had to go back to home". He explained as quietly as possible. "I went to get my drink from the fridge and saw that you didn't have one. I didn't have time to say anything because you needed me to go but we had a spare one in the fridge in the garage, so I planned to bring it over about eight…".
"Well why didn't ye!?" Mary whispered incredulously
"Aunt Deidre wouldn't let me leave and I can't get a sensible word in edgeways at the best of times! When Michelle finally passed out, I knew my chances of anyone being awake were slim, but I didn't want to make you all panic in the morning when you found you didn't have one so I… erm… tried the window".
If anyone else in Derry would have attempted to use that story to justify breaking into her house, the frying pan would have continued its journey to the person's head. But she could tell James was sincere and being slightly short of breath, it was very clear he'd ran all the way from the Mallon household in the cold, dark of the night to do this for them. Another reason she could tell that James would be the one and one day… her son-in law. Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Mary pulled him into a hug and could hear him laugh softly over her shoulder.
"My Erin is lucky to have you". She whispered as they broke away, feeling him tense.
"I… I don't deserve your beautiful daughter Mary" An oddly dejected sigh came from him.
"No!" She snapped back at no more than a murmur. "Ye made for each other so ye are. Don't ever say that to me again, ye hear?"
James's confident smile returned, and he handed the turkey over to the relieved Mary, following her to fridge where she stored the precious cargo. She said a quick prayer to the lord to thank him for sending his wise Englishman to their rescue. Turning around and finding James stood awkwardly, fidgeting with his jacket, Mary raised an inquisitive brow to coax out what ailed him.
"Can I… say goodnight to her?"
How could she say no to that? James saved the day again; it was becoming the recurring theme of his time in Derry. The knight in shining armour. And every knight had a Queen they devoted themselves to. She would not deny this knight the chance to see his Queen. Grinning to him, Mary gestured for him to follow her and the two of them began the journey all the way up to Erin's bedroom.
By the time they reached Erin's door, Mary could have sworn she could hear James's heart racing. Staying tough on the outside as a silent reminder not to try any funny business, her own heart couldn't help but swell at hearing the beats of his. With eyes of wonder, James entered the room slowly, approaching the bed where Erin soundly slept. She was lying straight but to the right side of the bed, a conveniently easy place for him to watch her. Her hummed breaths were akin to the honeyed words of her poetry to him. Mary watched as he bent down over the bed, pressing a light kiss to Erin's forehead and noticing how her daughter seemed to smile under him, not even knowing he was there.
"Merry Christmas my angel".
James's whispered message finished Mary's heart and a lone tear of pride and joy ran down her cheek. Instinctively swiping it away, maintaining her composed and stern look as she should, James would never know how badly he caused her heart to explode with fondness.
A few minutes later and the Englishman was gone, back out of the front door rather than the front window he entered from. Getting back into bed, the meal situation resolved, Mary noted the clock striking midnight.
Christmas Day