Chapter 7: The Dance 2nd June 1939
A blisteringly hot day made conditions for working quite unbearable that Friday afternoon. Sarah had already coined it the hottest day of the year ten minutes after waking up to the stifling early morning sun. The rest of the girls in the factory were all in agreement by nine o'clock, sweat pouring off them as they worked their machines. The supervisor Meyler was that concerned about the heat, he'd even sent Orla home for the day so that she didn't overwork herself in the heat. Attempting to earn the same treatment as her friend, Michelle had pretended to feint just after Orla left, though everyone in the factory could have told her that it was absurd. Meyler threatened to dock her pay if the semantics continued it was that poor. The girls carried on their working day afterward and had finished all of their orders by three o'clock, prompting the supervisor to allow them to leave earlier. An oddly kind gesture, but not one that was without reason.
That night was the big dance at the school.
They would have to contend with the heat as they jived into the night too. Nearly all of the young people in the city were gearing up for a fun, if sweltering, evening of entertainment. A local band would be providing the music that they would be dancing to, in addition to the more than likely lavish refreshments that would be on offer. The only thorn in their sides would be their former headmistress from their school days, Sister Michael, who'd insisted on being present to police the event. There were far too many of her former students in attendance for her to be content that the dance would go smoothly. Especially when the likes of Michelle Mallon and Erin Quinn would be there. They terrified her.
"I'm buzzin for tonight!" The former of those two girls said to the others as they walked towards the Mallon house.
"Me too, David said we can practice dancin' for the wedding!" An equally excitable Orla commented.
"Christ you'll need it…". Michelle snorted in reply. "… I remember how shite he was at dancin' at the Christmas dance last year".
The Christmas dance of 1938 was another reason why Sister Michael demanded to be present that evening. It had all gone swimmingly until one young man decided to be clever and add something extra to the punch, causing a wave of sickness to descend upon the dancefloor. Michelle was one of those to deposit with the contents of her stomach, Erin and David too, Orla and Clare only avoiding the same fate due to not drinking the foul concoction. It took hours for the school to be cleaned after it. There would not be a repeat of that night.
"Then again, I reckon John-Paul's a shite dancer too".
The young Mallon aimed her comment at Erin, who replied with a shake of the head and a roll of the eyes. Her date for the dance was the very same lad who'd kissed her on the cheek outside church a couple of months before, a lad that once upon a time she'd insisted on being in a relationship with. However, that was all before James. James who wouldn't be taking her to the dance that night because she didn't want the grief from all quarters about her going to the dance with an Englishman. Instead, it would be the less handsome John-Paul who would have the honour of leading her in to enjoy the evening's revelry.
"I'm surprised he wanted to take ye to be honest…". Clare started to ramble. "… I mean, I've only seen ye speak to him twice after that… peck on the cheek… at church".
"Surprised? I've said to ye all before, we're just figurin' things out slowly…".
Erin gave her stock answer, but with nowhere near the level of conviction she had done in the past. She could no longer muster that level of bluster.
"Why don't ye figure it out when ye ridin' him later?"
"Michelle! Unlike you, I don't drop me knickers at every chance I can with a lad".
"Don't we know it…".
"Yeah well, I'm looking for something more than just sex Michelle. Ye know… an intellectual connection and love".
"Intellectual?" Michelle laughed. "Catch yourself on! Ye won't find an intellectual connection with John-Paul O'Reilly!"
Happening to be one of the rare times when Michelle was correct, Erin found herself cornered. She knew as well as her friend that John-Paul was hardly a man of intellect or sophistication, working as a labourer in one of the warehouses down at the docks. She wasn't even sure if he could read or write. Not like James. James was the very definition of the intellectual connection that Erin yearned for… as well as the physical one…
"Ye well, at least I'm allowed to take a fella".
Michelle's vicious groan in return threatened to send Erin into hysterical laughter. After the incident with Johnny Kells, the only three men that she was allowed to go anywhere near where her father, Meyler the supervisor and James, as well as Gerry, David or Joe if she happened to be at the Quinn house. Martin and Deirdre had remained furious for over a week after the fateful Saturday morning discovery and were still hostile at times to their daughter. She wasn't allowed to go chasing the boys at all unless she vacated her room at the family home, which would be impossible on her wages. Clare would be her date for the dance, the two friends having agreed to go as just that rather than seek a male companion each. It conveniently solved a problem for the diminutive blonde, a problem that the other knew nothing about. She couldn't know…
"I mean no offence Clare".
"Aye I know Erin… but for once can we not bicker about… boys. I'd like to enjoy the evening, at least as much as we can with this heat".
They all nodded their heads in agreement, Orla doing so with a pinch more enthusiasm than what was really needed.
"It could have been worse though…". Michelle reasoned. "… ye could have been goin' with James".
It would have been a lie to agree with Michelle, forcing Erin into silence. There would have been nothing better than what her friend was suggesting.
"Where is James anyway?" Clare questioned instead.
"He told me ma that he had some gardenin' to do or some shite… the prick couldn't find a girl to go with more like…".
Gardening was James' plan for the night. Contrary to his cousin belief though, he could have attended. There were no shortage of girls who'd asked whatsoever…
"This fuckin' heat is a killer ye know. I bet Big Mandy will be sweatin' her hole off!" Michelle snorted.
"Christ, Big Mandy in a dress… I'm not sure I want to see that". Erin jested along with her.
"Is Big Mandy allowed to wear a dress?"
The girls were all howling at Orla's vocalisation of her thoughts. It was fine to make comments about Big Mandy when she wasn't around. She couldn't do damage if she couldn't hear them.
They would make sure to keep quiet at the dance though.
Mary had the luxury of finishing early like the girls, though she had some business to take care of first, arriving home at the normal time on a Friday to find Erin in the bath. With the heat that day, she relented on her usually strict regime when it came to using it, knowing that her daughter would want to be at her best for the dance. With how much she'd gone on about the lad who was supposedly taking her that night, she wouldn't want to ruin it by having her Erin smelling of sweat. That would be most unpleasant.
Gerry returned home a few minutes after his wife, Anna in tow after having retrieved her from Joe next door, receiving his usual verbal assault for the two minutes that he was in his father in-law's presence. Coming home from a hard day on the trains to Joe's unrelenting complaints would always serve as a test of his patience. He was yet to hit the man. Yet…
"Have you been a good girl for Granda, Anna?" Mary asked her youngest as she ran into the kitchen.
"Yes Mammy!" She replied cheerfully.
"Did ye do yer readin'?"
Anna nodded her head sincerely in reply.
"I did all the readin', but I don't think Granda liked it".
"Why do ye say that love?" Gerry asked his daughter.
"He fell asleep when I was on the last chapter. Does that mean I'm not very good?"
Mary and Gerry exchanged an amused look over Anna's head. Joe was known for his afternoon naps in the summer sun and Anna had learned the hard way that he was partial to a little sleep after lunch. Though she wasn't visibly upset, there was evident disappointment in her voice, disappointment that her parents wouldn't let fester.
"No love…" Mary started, pulling her into a hug. "… it just means yer Granda is getting a bit older and when ye get older, ye sometimes need a bit of a sleep in the day".
"That's what Granda said to me when he woke up!"
"And he's right…" Gerry confirmed with a smile. "… yer Granda needs to save all his energy for shoutin' at me, so he does".
Mary's face dropped with her husband's comment, especially as Anna began to giggle at it along with him. He quickly ceased his merriment when he saw the face of thunder he was receiving from his wife, that painstakingly reminded him of the many angered faces he'd received from Joe over the years.
"Can I go see Erin?" Anna asked her parents.
"She's in the bath love, so ye'll have to wait. Why don't ye go out into the garden and enjoy the weather?"
"Okay Mammy!"
Anna scampered off out into the back garden, where she found an old chair that they'd left outside and sat in it, the sun bouncing off her skin. Gerry moved to join Mary in the kitchen, the two watching over their little daughter whilst she quietly settled in the garden.
"Hard day love?" Mary asked as his hand slipped around her waist.
"Aye… Alan was moanin' again".
"Again? Christ, that man has nothin' better to do by the sounds of it!"
Alan was a colleague of Gerry's on the docks railway, an unpopular one amongst most of the workforce. Gerry had known him for years, the two having started their jobs on the railway on the very same day. For the first few years they were close friends, but after his wife ran off, Alan began to gradually spiral into a series of delusions and theories. He was convinced he'd been abducted by creatures from another planet one night, before being returned to the earth, a story which lowered his workplace reputation significantly. He refused to ever acknowledge that he might have just been a wee bit mad. Some had even attempted to get him fired, but the boss didn't want to fire the man who did his actual job so diligently every day.
"His latest theory is about those German fella's". Gerry explained. "And that they want to form some sort of, and I quote, 'Master race'… can ye believe it?"
"Pfff! Master race, what's he talkin' about!"
"I know love, that was my thought too".
"I mean, don't get me wrong, I think those wee German's aren't so nice, but Alan's gettin' a bit extreme there. Master race… honestly!"
"He wouldn't stop with that either. He says he has evidence".
"Evidence?" Mary retorted. "Gerry, there's more chance of Kathy Maguire sleepin' with that Hitler fella than there is of his lot creatin' a Master race".
Whilst the two continued to debate away, Erin listened in from upstairs. Out of the bath and drying in her room, she was intrigued by the conversation about the Germans. Having read up about them and their supposed beliefs via newspapers, as well as books from the library, she didn't think Alan was too far from the truth. There was the violence and discrimination against Jewish people in Germany the autumn before, with many murdered according to the papers. If the German leaders could allow such abominable violence to take place without severe punishment, then them creating a master race wasn't much of a stretch.
But the thoughts about the Germans would have to wait for another day. She had an evening of dancing to think about first.
Which started with her dress.
When she'd set out to make the dress herself weeks earlier, long before she even knew the dance would take place, it appeared to be a good idea. She certainly believed in her own ability to be able to make a beautiful dress for herself, albeit with the dutiful assistance of her mother. Mary was hostile to the idea from the beginning, having said no to Erin when she asked her mother to put some money aside to help her purchase one months before. The original intention was to have the dress for better occasions in the summer when the weather was warmer, with it being a thinner fabric to keep her cooler. Only when the dance came about did the finished product need to have an additional layer of perfection, as she knew she would have to impress John-Paul with it. She had to impress him…
The problem with it came with how laborious it was to actually get the dress on. It might have been a lighter fabric, but it made it no easier to actually squeeze into. The dress still ended up fitting quite tightly to her body. Mary had warned her about it doing so whilst it was being crafted and she was being proven to be spot on. A woman from the famine times would have slipped into it without an issue, but a young woman who ate regularly was always going to find it a challenge. Even a streamlined one such as her.
James wouldn't have minded if she'd worn her work clothes. She knew that much. The visit to the bank earlier that day was a particularly hard one for her. She'd spat out another round of apologies for going to the dance with another man, but ever the gentleman, he'd insisted that she did not think any more of it. He was well aware that his presence at the dance wouldn't be well received by a lot of the other lads his age, given the English accent, even if a lot of the girls could see past it. She'd known about his gardening plans too from their conversation, mainly due to her conscience having to be sure that he wouldn't ruin the evening by changing his mind and attending with Jenny. Thankfully he hadn't. Not that it eased her guilt in how she continued to fight her true feelings, acting with cowardice when it came to the dance… and him.
She was going with the wrong man.
At least that's what she convinced herself as the web of hidden feelings and lies continued to grow…
Finishing their dinner, Mary, Gerry and Anna were greeted by the sight of Erin and Orla walking towards the kitchen. The two girls looked resplendent in their respective dresses, though Erin was far more unsteady on her feet in hers. Mary winced as the fears that her daughter had made the dress a couple of sizes too small came true before her eyes; it was suffocating Erin. Orla on the other hand looked the piece, her dress nicely fitting over her bump. Sarah followed in behind them, marvelling at just how well her daughter and niece looked.
"You girls are lookin' fabulous, don't ye think Mary?"
"Aye right". She responded drolly.
"Ach mammy, yer too kind". Orla flashed a smile at her mother.
Anna looked at the two in awe. She saw them both every day, yet they were both different in their appearance. With plenty of makeup on between them, they were so far apart from their normal looks it was quite shocking for a three year old.
"Who are you?" She nervously asked them.
"Who do ye think Anna?" Erin chuckled. "It's only a wee bit of makeup!"
"In her defence, it is actually quite a lot…".
"Gerry!"
Mary sternly cut her husband off in his attempt to stick up for his younger daughter over his older one. Unfortunately for him, that would be the start of a few minutes of hell, as the front door opened to reveal Joe and David walking into the house. Whilst the latter would pose him no trouble, the former would certainly be ready to berate him in any way possible. They were both dressed up in suits, David wearing that particular suit for the final time before his new one would arrive ahead of the wedding.
"Why is Granda dressed up?" Anna posed the question to the rest of them.
"I'm going along too Anna. Orla needs two men to go with her ye know, one for her and one for the baby".
"Ach Granda, that's really sweet of ye". Erin harmonised to him.
"I know".
Pleasant enough with the girls, Joe turned to Gerry with a scowl, despite his son in-law saying nothing to him since he'd walked into the house. Just being there was enough. They stood talking as a group for a few minutes, mostly Mary and Sarah warning the men to look after Orla that evening, with Erin too being given a degree of responsibility for her cousin. It was understandable that there was such a focus on Orla's welfare given the pregnancy, but she wasn't too fussed at all. She was instead looking forward to an evening dancing with her beloved.
"I wish you'd worn yer matching dress Erin…". Orla said to her cousin. "… we used to go to party's dressed the same when we were wee".
"We're not wee now Orla". Erin huffed in returned.
"Right, we best be off". Joe said to them.
"Aye, come on then".
David addressed his partner with an arm held out for her to link hers through, an arm which was taken a second later. The tender action brought a tear to Sarah's eye.
"Are ye comin' love?" Joe then addressed Erin.
"John-Paul's pickin' me up about seven, you's go on ahead and I'll see ye there".
"Alright". Her Granda replied to her.
He led the way out of the house, with the couple linked at the arms sauntering on behind him. The school was a fair walk away, but they would be taking it steadily to enjoy the gorgeous early summer weather. There would be plenty of couples doing the same as they too headed off towards Our Lady Immaculate, with an expected attendance of around two hundred for the dance in the main hall. The whole city was awash with activity that night, with friends meeting up to bask in the beautiful fading sun.
Sitting down at the dining table in the kitchen, Mary shared looks with her Sister and her Husband, looks that were akin to winces once more. She'd always had a feeling about Erin's supposed date for the dance and had prepared for the worst. The winces were magnified to a whole other level when Erin sat down with them at the table, awkwardly lowering herself into the seat.
It was going to be a long night.
The band began to play as the first young people took to the floor to dance. Michelle and Clare were two of the first to arrive, but neither could find anyone to dance with. Clare wasn't too bothered about that at all though, the thought of having to be in such close proximity with a boy who might try something on with her was petrifying. Dancing with her friend was out of the question, Michelle making it very clear that she would only accept a male dancing partner. Usually able to lure nearly any lad that she set eyes on, all of the young men that arrived either alone or with a partner were doing their upmost to avoid her. Johnny Kells was nowhere to be seen, which upset her immensely. She was hoping that they might finally have another chance to be with each other, but unbeknownst to her, Martin had already shut that window of opportunity. The young Kells man received a visit from the Mallon patriarch earlier that week, the older man making sure the younger one would not attend the dance. It had worked.
"What the fuck's this!" Michelle finally voiced her frustrations. "All the lads are avoidin' me like I've got some sort of fuckin' plague!"
"It's hardly a wonder is it Michelle!" An equally frustrated Clare responded.
"What the fuck do ye mean?"
"Oh… I don't know… the last lad that ye were with was chased down the street by yer da and Orla's dog, before being beaten up by yer da".
"It's not like that's goin' to happen again is it!?"
"They don't know that Michelle!"
The two friends crossed their arms and turned away from each other, frustrated with one another. They stayed silent in their positions for a minute or so, watching the dancing go by without participating. It did not stay quiet for long however, as they were approached by someone that they'd been hoping to avoid.
Sister Michael.
"Miss Mallon… Miss Devlin… why the long faces?"
"Evening Sister". Michelle responded first, unfolding her arms. "We're fine. Just waiting".
"Waiting? If yer waiting for dance partners, then I think ye'll be waitin' some time". The Sister deduced dryly. "Your reputation proceeds you Miss Mallon".
Hatred was too strong a word to describe Michelle's feelings towards her old headmistress, but she certainly did not like her. Throughout her school days, Sister Michael would ruin any fun or mischief that she'd got up to with her incredible ability to sniff out trouble. Often rude to her students, she could hide behind her status a nun in order to rule over the students with an iron fist.
"Have ye forgotten how to speak Miss Devlin?" She turned her glare to the blonde.
"N-No… good evening Sister".
"I would have thought you would have grown out of the nervousness… it's very disappointing Miss Devlin".
Words failed Clare as the Sister revealed her apparent displeasure at her unfortunate nature, causing a wave of tears to appear in the corners of her eyes. Like Michelle, she didn't hate their former head mistress, but the woman absolutely terrified the life out of her. She'd once gone out for a walk in the fields with her face covered as if she were suffering from the Spanish Flu and somehow the Sister recognised her from a mile off. A more suspicious person would have perhaps concluded that the Sister was some sort of government spy, sent to watch their daily lives and report back to the powers that be.
"I hope you girls won't be causing any trouble this evening". Sister Michael took on a sterner tone. "I will not have ye running amok as if ye were twelve again, do ye hear me?"
"Wise up, we're adults now Sister!". Michelle angrily retorted.
"Don't you take that tone with me Miss Mallon! I can very easily have ye removed!"
"Now list-".
"Michelle!" Clare warned her. "Come on, let's get a drink".
Pulling the dark-haired girl away from the head mistress, still muttering a few choice words under her breath at the perceived insolence of the nun, they were soon joined at the bar. Joe and David arrived, with Orla in between them having an arm hooked around each. It was a beautiful sight to behold as the three strolled up to the bar. Plenty of other young men and women wished Orla well, noting her ever-growing bump where her and David's child grew.
"Yer lookin' well Joe". Michelle addressed him first.
"Aye. I know".
"Ye don't scrub up to badly yerself David". She added.
"Thank ye". He replied, furrowing his brow at her unexpectedly kind comment.
"Why aren't you's dancin'?" Orla questioned the two girls.
"I can't find anyone to dance with and Clare doesn't seem too bothered anyway…".
"I'll dance with ye".
Quickly turning her head to find his eyes, Michelle was taken aback by Joe's offer. He was forever telling her off about her use of poor language, despite being just as bad himself, and could be quite harsh to her on occasions. She'd heard what he'd had to say after the Johnny Kells incident from Erin too, a scathing view of her conduct being presented by him. To find him then offering to dance with her was most peculiar.
"Come on".
He held his hand out to Michelle, who took it without hesitation. Joe led her out onto the dance floor, where they were accompanied by David and Orla, leaving Clare to watch on with a beaming smile on her face. She might not have been able to safely relish the entertainment on offer that evening, but the joyful grins on her friends faces warmed her to the core instead. Not that she needed any further warmth, the late summer sun still beating mercilessly outside.
Where are Erin and John-Paul?
That thought stuck with her as the dancing continued.
And would do so for a while…
The big clock continued to tick on in the kitchen of the Quinn household. It had first drifted past seven o'clock with Erin's hopes for the evening remaining in good stead despite no one having turned up at the house to whisk her away. It was at quarter past when Mary's concerns were raised further, with Gerry and Sarah soon silently agreeing with her fears. They knew by half past seven that John-Paul O'Reilly wouldn't be turning up to the house to take Erin to the dance that night. In reality, Mary knew that long before the evening had begun, but any chance that she could have been incorrect in her belief evaporated.
Before long, it was eight o'clock, and their concerns for Erin had increased even further. She'd ceased making direct eye contact with any of them by that time, the rare glimpses of her eyes showing a glazed dam of tears ready to be dispensed like a waterfall. Her breaths had been infiltrated by her inner devastation at sitting miserably in the house whilst nearly everyone she knew was out dancing the night away. Her thoughts would constantly turn to James as she sat in silence, chastising her cowardice yet again as she pondered what a night like him would have been like. The English fella might have been the most kind and beautiful young man she'd ever set her eyes upon, but he had wreaked merry hell with her life since his arrival. It was not his fault, the poor lad didn't understand the inner turmoil he caused by being in her life, though it was due to him that she knew she wouldn't be going anywhere that night.
Because she'd never even asked John-Paul.
When they'd spoken outside church in the weeks after his kiss, their conversations were short and mostly in passing. He was not remotely interested in Erin in any romantic way, a fact that she was very much aware of. He already had a girlfriend in Ciara, whom he'd taken away to Belfast that weekend on the train. Not many people knew of his plans, but Erin happened to be one after he'd told her a few weeks earlier following the end of a Sunday morning service at church. The lies began from that moment onwards, because she dared not reveal her true wish of arriving at the dance on James' arm to spend the night waltzing with him… and hopefully share a kiss by the climax. If not more…
"He's not coming". She uttered the statement she'd known for a long time at half-eight.
"Look love…". Mary tried to start.
"I'm going to get changed". Erin interrupted her.
A stabbing pain ran through her heart as Mary heard the defeated tone in her eldest daughter's voice. Erin had no idea that her mother happened to be one of the other people who knew John-Paul wouldn't even be in Derry that night. She'd seen the young man in the street the prior weekend and had thanked him for taking her Erin to the dance. When he in turn told her that no such arrangement had taken place, Mary knew she would continue with the lies to save face. She'd already began to suspect that Erin had moved on from the O'Reilly lad that she'd pined for over the course of a couple of years. She also suspected that Erin's fears over confessing whom her young heart beat so strongly for, prevented her from going with the Englishman.
Mary didn't need to be Professor Einstein to know her daughter was in love with him. The fella himself might not have realised, not that it mattered. She would see to it that he did in time.
"Maybe, leave it another few minutes…". She suggested to her daughter.
"I want to get out of this thing".
Without another word, Erin painfully extracted herself from the chair at the table. There were not only tears in her eyes, but in her mother's and her Aunt's as well. Sarah was completely unaware of the situation with John-Paul, with Mary choosing to keep the information to herself as to not embarrass Erin any further. She felt anger towards the man who was ruining the perfect Friday evening for her niece, guilty that all the other wains their age would be out having a great time and Erin would be alone in her room crying most likely.
Shuffling off in the direction of the stairs, tears painfully pricked her eyes. She was such a fool for lying about John-Paul taking her to the dance. After having ran through how the scenario would pan out in her head, she thought she'd have felt totally fine afterwards. There might have been a tear or two that drifted out slowly, but they would be tears of a crocodile, not ones taken from actual human feelings. Except they were taken from actual feelings… her feelings. And inside, Erin Quinn felt incomprehensibly awful. Knowing that her parents and Aunt received front row seats for the disastrous evening only heightened her pitiful embarrassment.
Taking her step onto the first stair, with her hand gripping onto the bannister, a lone tear trickled down Erin's face, splashing onto the carpet beneath her. However, it would be the one and only tear that would do so that night.
For the night was about to christened by a knight… in shining armour.
There was a knock on the door behind her that stopped Erin dead in her tracks. If it were any of the others returning home or even a family friend such as Deirdre, then they would have just walked in without knocking. It couldn't have been John-Paul as he was off enjoying the nightlife of Belfast with Ciara as opposed to the Derry dance that he could have attended with her. Uncle Colm was her immediate contender. He would turn up unannounced quite a lot, especially on Friday night's and he would sometimes knock ahead of coming in too. It would have made sense if it was the boring old man. Except it wasn't.
It was her wildest dream instead.
Opening the door, Erin found the beautiful Englishman, ready to ambush her with one of his knee-buckling lopsided grins. Her heart jumped up and down like an athlete celebrating an Olympic gold medal. Blood raced all around her in a split second, her face, already heated from the natural warmth of the day, began to feel like it had caught fire.
A face on fire because of James Maguire.
"Your mum came to see me at the bank this afternoon…".
His words were like a lullaby to her, making her flutter her lashes at him, wanting to fall forward into his arms to stay there forever. It wouldn't have quite been literal though, as he had his hands behind his back rather than out ready to catch a falling young Quinn. He'd donned a plain suit to arrive in at the house that night, with a pristine black bow tie accompanying it. His hair was just as slick as ever, combed to the style that Erin loved the most. He smelt lovely too, the very finest Eau de Cologne aftershave applied. Quite how she was managing to stay on her feet was a mystery to her.
"But what about yer gardening?" She enquired with him.
"Why I've bought it with me…".
He paused to move his hands from behind his back, revealing a solitary rose. What felt like a stream of a thousand emotions flooded into her conscience in a mighty tidal surge, drowning out the thoughts of everything else in the world. Moving her hand forward to accept the tenderly prepared flower, their hands brushed for a solitary moment, but it was enough to send Erin down to her final string of control. One more snap and there would be nothing she could do, knowing that she would launch herself at the Englishman with reckless abandon.
"The rest of it is not important". He continued on, a grin from ear to ear. "Shall we go?"
Dreams could come true. The same dreams that had followed her around every day for the past week, infiltrating her head whilst she sat at her machine. The dreams that distracted her whilst she was out picking cranberries with her mother the Sunday afternoon prior. But in her dreams with James, she wasn't wearing the hideous monstrosity that she'd erected for herself and if the night was to be perfect, she had to get out of the dress like she'd told her mother that she would.
"Can ye give me one minute?"
His enthusiastic nod came incredibly close to severing that final string of control, but Erin held firm, replicating his ear-to-ear grin from moments earlier. Turning on her heel, she quickly started off up the stairs, rose in hand, leaving the young Englishman smiling as he watched her ascent. He took a step into the house to find Mary and Gerry approaching him from the kitchen. They'd stayed out of view when he'd knocked the door but listened in intently to the conversation between the youngsters afterwards.
"Thank you James". Mary addressed him quietly, reaching out to put her hand on his. "Yer a brilliant young fella".
"It is my pleasure". He smiled as he replied to her. "Though I must ask your forgiveness for being so late, I had to work longer today at the bank and…".
"Yer here for my Erin son". Gerry cut him off, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's all that matters".
Gerry might have come to the realisation later than his wife, but he could see the potential for something brewing between his daughter and the dashing young Englishman that was stood in his hallway. Speaking to him a little more before Erin was ready, he learnt of how the Englishman had prioritised his gardening over going dancing, even on his own. That was until Erin's night came under threat from her own mountain of lies. He wouldn't change his plans for anyone except her. That was more than just a simple friendship to Gerry. A very good friendship perhaps… a very good one indeed.
Hearing footsteps on the floorboards upstairs, Mary and Gerry retreated back into the kitchen to re-join Sarah; Anna had long been put to bed whilst they'd waited with Erin. James re-adjusted his bow tie in the hallway mirror to look at his absolute best for when she returned. Hearing more footsteps, he turned to see her at the top of the stairs in a far simpler dress, the same dress which Orla was wearing. He performed a double take with how stunning she looked, suited to the much more simple dress than the complicated one she'd made for herself. Instinctively he held out his arm for her, keeping his eyes on hers as she descended the stairs to return to his side.
With her arm linked around his, they walked out towards his Morgan that was parked up at the bottom of the path from the Quinn house.
All her worries about being judged for going to the dance with him ceased. Erin breathed and for once, drank in the joy of being able to live out her dreams.
The perfect night.
It was getting on for nine o'clock and Clare still couldn't work out what had happened to Erin and John-Paul. Or at least, she hoped that he hadn't stood her up. Even for all of Erin's ridiculous behaviour when it came to him, she would be saddened to hear that he'd left her to a night alone. There would be no scenario where Erin would turn up on her own either, knowing she would be too embarrassed to admit that there really wasn't anything between her and the fella, like they'd been telling her for weeks. Apart from worrying from her friend, she'd had an enjoyable evening with the rest of the group. Throwing caution to the wind, she even danced with Erin's Granda Joe like Michelle had done at the start of the night. It wasn't like having to make contact with another lad her age; Joe wasn't going to try and force an unwanted advance on her.
With the heat only lessening to a slight extent as the evening continued on, she was outside in the school field with Michelle, who was using the break in the crisper night air to have a cigarette and cool off. There were a lot of others congregated outside too, so they were stood by the gate to the adjoining farmer's field, where a hundred or more sheep were grazing in the summer air.
"Look at them…". The very drunk Michelle waved her finger towards the sheep. "… grazin' there…".
"Christ Michelle, how much have ye had?" Clare rounded on her.
"Ach jus… jus' one or two…". She sniggered her reply.
The reality… was more like seven or eight… of whatever she'd even drank. Clare was busy dancing with Joe when Michelle had approached the bar, finding in her in a similar state to how she was outside once the band took a few minutes break. Sister Michael was monitoring her but found it more amusing to let the young Mallon girl pay the price for her excesses the following morning, allowing the drinking session to continue. Staggering out for her cigarette, one or two lads made beelines towards her in the hopes of taking advantage in her drunken state, but found themselves fiercely rebuked by a protective Clare.
"I reckon… I reckon…". Michelle swayed erratically on her feet whilst she spoke. "… I reckon that I… that these sheep… need… to fffuck off!"
"Aye… right. There just sheep Michelle and yer drunk!"
"Piss off Clare… stop having ye cack attacks… ye little… fretter!"
Michelle continued to laugh at her own drunken antics, which weren't amusing her blonde friend in the slightest. She'd seen Michelle drunk before, knowing that they were at the phase of having to ride out the storm of the dark-haired girls' stupid comments.
Whilst the two continued to argue away, around the front of the school, a solitary car appeared in the front courtyard. James arrived with Erin in the Morgan, the two chatting away happily for the whole journey. Erin's heartrate had finally steadied on their drive over to Our Lady Immaculate, having avoided discussion on any romantic topics with James. She spent the first half of their journey apologising from pulling him away from his original plan of doing gardening that evening. It wasn't essential that he did it then anyway, and he told her that after such a long day at work, he might not have done too much of it, preferring a quiet night's reading with a glass of something stronger instead. The other half of the journey revolved around Erin telling him of some of the trouble they used to get in at school, with James exchanging stories of some of his own rebellious school day actions. Though her aims existed beyond the bounds of friendship, she'd never felt as comfortable sharing stories around anyone than she did when she shared them with James, a grand testament to their strong friendship.
"Here we are then". He said to her once they'd stopped. "You wait just there, my lady".
CHRIST!
Unintentionally, James short-circuited Erin's brain again, to the extent that she believed she could not glow any pinker without being classed as a flamingo. James' flamingo. A title which she would embrace if it were given to her… because someone would have recognised her as James'… something that she wanted to be.
The English fella walked around the back of the car to the passenger's side, opening the door for her. She beamed an appreciative smile at him, taking his hand to help her out of the Morgan once it had been offered.
"You look… stunning".
The deep sincerity of his voice could have been confirmed by anyone, not just Erin in her greatest dreams or another one of her insane delusions. Her poor knees would need to be replaced before long, as every time James opened his mouth, they seemed to fly the flag of surrender.
"Such a gentleman". She breathily whispered once they were stood together beside the car. "Ye know… I'm happy that it's you takin' me".
The words slipped out, the barriers that protected her honesty suddenly giving way. Her own eyes widened once she'd realised exactly what she'd admitted, though there was no reaction from the Englishman at first. Erin took it that he must not have believed or perhaps he…
"I could never have convinced myself to have anyone other than you on my arm, Erin".
Not only were her knees faltering, but the rest of her body began to slip into an uncontrollable overdrive too. She was going to kiss him this time, nothing was going to stop her. The time had come to finally…
His arm managed to prove her wrong. He offered it again for her to take and clinging to it prevented her attaching their bodies passionately at the lips. Simmering down as she relaxed into his grip, Erin battled to regain control of her emotions, a victory achieved when they arrived at the hall. With the dancing in full swing, barely anyone noticed their presence in the main hall. And those that did, didn't seem to care too much that she'd arrived with an Englishman. Orla did notice their presence though and pulled both David and her Granda Joe over to greet the new arrivals in the room. The two men wore equally knowing expressions.
David already knew that there was more than just a spark of friendship between Orla's cousin and the lad who was slowly becoming his best friend. He already knew that Erin was keen. James walking into the main hall with her on his arm, a grin as wide as the mouth of the Foyle, allowed him to gather the evidence to the theory in his head that James was unknowingly keen himself. It would be something for him to ask the Englishman on their likely meetup the following day, though he was wary of annoying his friend… who was after all buying him a high-class suit for his wedding.
Joe had kept his opinion on Erin and James silent for a while, an opinion formed after a chance sighting of the two one Friday lunchtime. Taking Anna on a wee walk around the city, Joe noticed the two wains sat on a park bench eating their respective lunches, giggling away. It may have only been a fleeting glance, but the way Erin was looking at James told him enough. He remembered when, as a young man, Marie had looked at him the same way. A look of love. James might have been English and a complete outsider in Derry, yet ever since Joe shook his hand on their first meeting, the firm grip of the shake told him that the young man would be more than good enough for his granddaughter. Just like David was the perfect man for his other granddaughter.
"Where's John-Paul?" Orla enquired with her cousin.
"He erm… something else came up and James happened to be passing…".
"James son". Joe addressed him loudly over the drowning music, his hand already presented for another firm shake. "Thank ye".
The two men shook hands firmly, David watching with a smile on his face as they did. Releasing James from his grasp seconds later, Joe allowed him to take Erin's arm again, leading her to the dancefloor ready for the next tune to begin. The song was slow and melodic, James gripping his hand tightly to Erin's waist, with Erin in turn placing a hand on his shoulder. Their free hands clasped together as they moved from side to side, vanishing into the crowd of other young couples who were dancing, some of whom kissed whilst doing so. Except they were just friends in a sea of lovers…
Friends that took comfort in holding each other so tightly…
Friends that were so relaxed that one could rest their head on the other's shoulder halfway through the dance.
"Thank ye". She muttered into that shoulder as they continued to dance.
"For you, I would do anything". He hummed back.
Yes, they were the sort of friends who would do anything for each other at a simple request. But before Erin could investigate the length and depth of his meaning of anything, it was their other friends that reminded them of a different aspect of friendship. The section that covered watching on as some of your best friends made themselves look completely stupid whilst getting into an obscene amount of trouble. The shouting from outside stopped the band from playing immediately. The dance floor dispersed, with every dancer heading in the direction of the windows at the back of the main hall to understand the commotion. What they found… was unexpected to say the least.
There were sheep absolutely everywhere across the school playing field. It was Joe who found the source of the trouble first, pointing out the completely hammered Michelle in the distance, being dragged around by the small, livid figure of Clare. Drunkenly believing that she could ride on one of the sheep's backs, the drunken Mallon had gone round attempting to mount up on one of the woolly animals, to their utter confusion. The ensuing confusion caused them all to huddle up and charge at the one gap that they could all see in the wall that separated their field to the schools. The gate that Clare left open when she'd gone to fetch Michelle from the field. Sister Michael vainly attempted to corral the sheep back towards the gate whilst young men and women were climbing into the farmer's field to avoid being charged down by the woolly devils. Chaos reigned supreme in the school field. Big Mandy was one of those caught outside and she'd tried a completely different tactic, kicking the sheep as they went by. It rapidly turned out that her tactic might have conveyed her physical strength, but also her overwhelming stupidity, when a group of around ten of the sheep made a concerted charge at her, knocking her down into the turf.
"What has Michelle done…". Erin's voice trailed off in disbelief.
"She won't be pulling the wool over anyone's eyes tonight".
James' dry comment silenced the air around their group inside for a brief moment, before they all burst into a fit of laughter.
Erin's crisis was getting worse.
Not only was he charming… handsome… kind… gentlemanly…
He was extremely funny.
For the love of god, he had to be hers.