Chapter 9: Matrimony 22nd June 1939
Two days.
Two days until Orla and David were to be married.
The excitement around their family and friends was palpable. In the Mallon household, Michelle was buzzing for the occasion, giving her a chance to wear what she considered to be her best dress. Having been watched so closely since the disastrous events of the dance at the school weeks before, it would also offer her a rare chance to enjoy herself without too many significant obstacles preventing her enjoyment.
"I can't remember the last wedding I went to…". Martin commented to Deirdre as they sat in their living room.
"I know, it's been some time". She replied.
"I still remember our wedding day". The memory brought a smile to his face. "You were so pretty in yer dress and my Ma was crying…".
"Those tears!" Deirdre laughed.
Their conversation about yesteryear was interrupted when Michelle bundled down the stairs, dress in hand.
"Alright love". Deirdre addressed her.
"Aye, I'm buzzin' like. I'm not sure about me dress though…".
"It's just a dress Michelle, and it looks fine". Martin huffed.
"Now now Martin…". Deirdre reprimanded him. "It's important for our Michelle to look her best. An honest young man might take a liking to her".
Michelle didn't like the honest young men in the city; they were all no fun. Proven by her dalliance with Johnny Kells, though most would claim he was more idiot than rebel, she preferred the boys who lived a bit more wildly. Finding a husband at Orla's wedding wasn't on her priority list whatsoever.
"I think it'll be just fine love". Deirdre told her.
"I hope so… I hope so".
"Don't fret, it's yer father and his clothes that ye should be worried about. Have ye polished those shoes yet, Martin?"
He rolled his eyes, clearly not having done so. The whole fuss Deirdre was making about his presentation was unwarranted, with Martin knowing full well how to make himself look smart for the big day. However, the sudden realisation of a brilliant opportunity came about. Michelle's debt after both being caught with Johnny and the dance incident, was still to be fully paid off. She could polish the shoes for him…
"I think Michelle's got a wee job she can do before bed then".
"What!?" She shouted at her father.
"Aye ye heard me, ye can polish my shoes for the wedding. Yer in our debt remember…".
Before Michelle could utter words that would only increase the sum, there was a knock on the front door. Deirdre got up to answer, leaving father and daughter to argue the case of the shoe polishing between themselves.
"Why should I polish yer shoes?"
"Because I asked ye to Michelle… or because if ye want to sleep in this house tonight, ye need to remember to respect me".
"Respect ye!? I do respect ye Da! I…". She stopped upon noticing the guest in the room. "… oh for fuck's sake!"
"MICHELLE! LANGUAGE!" Her mother chastised her.
"Good evening to you too Michelle".
James. James who'd already been at the house that night, a couple of hours before she'd returned home. He never came back a second time after his regular evening visit in the week, which always meant she never had to see him. Welcome him, she would not.
"What are ye doin' here!?" She demanded to know.
"I have come to see if I could borrow you Martin". He turned to address his Uncle. "There is some business I need to take care of this evening and some help would be appreciated".
"Business? It's nearly nine o'clock James, I'm thinking about me bed not business".
"I do apologise for calling on you at such a late hour, but my need is pressing".
In the short space of time that he'd been in Derry, James had done a lot for his Aunt and Uncle… Martin couldn't really say no to him. He trusted the Englishman too, knowing that whatever the business might be, his involvement must have been of the upmost importance to its success.
Sighing, the older man rose from his chair.
"Give me a couple of minutes son".
Martin left the living room to get ready for their trip out, leaving James to talk to his Aunt Deirdre and defend himself from Michelle. Luck was on his side though, and it was the former who spoke up first.
"What's that ye've got in the box there James?"
Deirdre enquired about the small box that had remained in his hands from the moment he'd gotten out of the Morgan. He removed the lid to reveal the contents to be a fine pair of what looked like unworn shoes, almost sparkling in their unused glory. But not sparkling enough for his standards, being the same pair of shoes he would be wearing to the wedding… the ones he would be wearing for his dancing with Erin.
"My shoes for the wedding. I was going to ask a favour of you Deirdre. Would you polish them for me? I want to look my best and…".
"No". She cut off his explanation coldly. "But I know someone who will".
The two both turned to look at Michelle, in her seated position on the carpet of the Mallon floor. She stared back at them with a look of frightening fury in her irises, one of a kind that a priest might believe the devil himself could make.
"You can f-".
David's last night of being free from the shackles of matrimony was not one that he'd expected on the day he'd proposed to Orla. That day may have only been a couple of months before, but a particularly significant factor had been added since then.
James.
At his friend's cottage, David could relax for the night without the stresses of his parents or brothers fussing round him to make sure everything was in order. With James, he knew everything would be done to perfection, due to the Englishman's sophisticated planning. Their suits were ready well in advance, enabling them to sit out in the back garden of James' country home to bask in the summer sun. It would be light well into the night that night for the two to be able to enjoy a stress-free evening with fresh air too.
"I hate being away from Orla for this long ye know". He admitted to James. "Even though I'm used to it, it never gets any easier".
James could only smile at his admission. The depths of David's love for her were already clear to him, but hearing his friend reiterate them was music to his ears.
"I suspect she will be thinking the same way". He chuckled to David.
"Aye. I bet Sarah's makin' a right show of things".
"That's mothers for you isn't it…".
James's voice trailed as mentioning mothers made him think of his own. Kathy loved a wedding, having taken James to a couple of her friends' weddings back in London. She would have been in her element at the church, crying at Orla and David's futures being sealed in the eyes of the Lord.
"You'll hear from her again soon mate". David told him.
"Yes… yes I will". James regained his composure slowly. "Enough about me anyway, it is you that we must discuss. Is Orla moving in with you?"
"The opposite actually, I'm moving in with her".
"You'll have plenty of support from Sarah and Joe I bet".
"I'll never escape Joe again". David snorted. "But aye, he's already offered to help with looking after our baby when he or she comes".
Face lit up, David's joy in speaking of his unborn child warmed the Englishman. The couple estimated that the baby would be born around the beginning of November, an agonisingly long wait for them given their excitement.
"Boy or Girl?" James asked the obvious question.
"I don't mind if I'm honest James. Either would be cracker".
"Does Orla mind?"
"Ach no, ye know my Orla. She doesn't let that stuff worry her ye know".
"Very true, very true. Have you discussed names yet?"
"Christ!" David complained jokingly. "Yer just as bad as Erin with all these questions. She was asking the same from Orla".
There was little surprise to James that Erin was asking the same questions as he was. Great minds would think alike, and she was in possession of a very capable brain in the same way that he was.
"If we have a wee girl then Orla wants to name her after her Grandma and if it's a boy, we were thinking of either Antony, Daniel or Brian".
"That's very sweet of Orla". James concluded. "I think Antony out of those three personally".
"Ha!" David almost shouted his highly amused reply. "That's exactly what Erin said as well".
"What can I say, we must have similar tastes".
"Aye… right".
David stared at James with what the Englishman believed to be a strange look. David's eyebrow was raised slightly, whilst he appeared to be struggling to contain a bout of laughter that was ready to fall from his lips. Whilst James might not have known what the look was for, to his friend, the nature of the almost mocking stare was quite obvious. He'd already teased the Englishman on the subject when they were at the tailors and had continued to do so throughout the following month. Armed with the unconfirmed but very much unquestionable knowledge of Erin's feelings for his friend, he remained in disbelief that the English fella was yet to notice them himself.
"What?" James finally asked. "You are teasing me with something again, are you not?"
"Aye… I might be". David giggled back.
"Not this mystery girl again, I hope? Well perhaps I may find her tomorrow evening in the midst of our night of revelry".
"Yer takin her are ye not?"
"Who, Erin? Yes, we agreed it last week. Why?"
The want to punch James square in the face to wake him up, fluttered just beneath the surface of David's exterior emotions. The drawn-out game of not informing him had run its cause and if the Englishman was too blind to see it, then he was going to have to tell him.
"Erin…".
"Erin?"
"Erin's yer 'mystery girl' ye great eejit!".
Instantaneous laughter was ripped from James' lungs. Erin, alongside David, was his best friend; she couldn't possibly hold feelings for him. It amused him to know that his male friend was reading the relationship between him and his female one completely incorrectly. Or well, it just amused him…
"She is my friend David. I think you are misunderstood".
"Oh my… can ye seriously not see it? Yer a smart man academically James but by Christ are ye thick emotionally".
"I am not!" He protested with a laugh. "Erin only sees me as a friend, as I see her. I'm starting to think you've been sneaking an extra glass of whisky whenever I turn my back after all of this!"
"Ye can think what ye want…". David grinned like a Cheshire cat. "… but I'm tellin' ye, Erin's got feelings for ye James. Anyway, what about you… do ye like her?"
"As a friend, of course I like her".
James' reply shot out like a lightning bolt to the question. David's wedding the next day was the only reason he was giving him a reprieve, as if it wasn't, he knew he would have started an argument with him. It was preposterous that David believed Erin held feelings beyond those of their friendship to him, completely and utterly preposterous. He'd never thought of Erin in such a way… never…
"Fine… fine…". David's tone dropped, indicating he would be backing off. "… probably about time for a nightcap don't ye think?"
"A wise idea I would say". James responded pleasantly.
The Englishman went inside with both of their glasses for the final refill of the evening. But in his head, it was not the thoughts of the alcoholic beverage that invaded the recesses and crevices of his mind, it was the other thoughts… the ones that made him oddly nervous.
It was the thought of love with Erin.
Which was of course his first thought on the matter…
An enchanting breeze occupied the city on the morning of the 24th June 1939, the day of the wedding of David Donnelly and Orla McCool. The church was relatively full for the event, with friends and family from all across the city in attendance to witness their joining in the eyes of the Lord. James found himself on a row with his Aunt and Uncle, along with Clare's parents Sean and Geraldine. Whilst his friendship with David was a strong one, displayed by David choosing to spend the night before his wedding alone with James at the cottage, the honour of standing with David as best man, fell to one of David's other friends. Not that there was any jealousy on the Englishman's part, fully understanding that a lengthier friendship held sway over the short but prosperous one that the two had formed in the couple of months following his arrival.
It wouldn't be too long until Orla arrived with her bridesmaids and Joe, who would be giving her away in the absence of her birth father.
"That suit… how much did ye pay in the end James?" Martin asked, looking up to the groom at the altar.
"The price was irrelevant…". James attempted to steer clear of the discussion.
"Ach come on son, there's no way that was cheap".
"If you must know, about thirty-eight pounds".
"THIRTY-EIGHT POUNDS!?" Martin nearly choked when he heard the figure. "How much money have ye got?"
"Please can we not make such a fuss over a small gesture…".
"Small g… that is not a small gesture James! By the power of the almighty himself, I am startin' to wonder whether yer the richest man in Britain! This suit… that thing from the oth-".
"Now come on Martin love, there's no need for ye to keep quizzin' him about money. I've told ye before about that and I'm not tellin ye again!"
Grateful for his Aunt's intervention, James dipped his head in thanks to Deirdre, who returned the gesture with a smile. Martin grumbled to himself about the scolding from his wife, a scolding which he knew he had coming, remembering the two or three prior times when he'd tried to find out where all the money James possessed actually came from. She didn't know what he knew from Thursday night however, sworn into secrecy by his nephew, and her tune would certainly change if she found out the details.
"How's yer Clare then Geraldine, I've not seen her for a couple of weeks". Deirdre asked Mrs Devlin.
"Ach she's grand Deirdre, I hope yer Michelle's keepin' well".
"She is but she'll be on a tight leash tonight I tell ye. I won't have her chasin' the boys again".
"We've got the opposite issue!" Sean piped up from beside his wife. "Half the time Clare doesn't even seem that bothered about finding someone".
"Sean!" Geraldine reprimanded him.
"What love, it's true! I tell you's, I'm keeping my eye out for her in case there are any good lads around tonight".
James, along with his Aunt and Uncle, all hummed awkwardly in agreement. He didn't know Sean Devlin particularly well, but the brief picture David had painted of him during one of their evenings at the pub seemed accurate. According to his friend, Sean was very much a staunch Catholic who wanted the best for his daughter. James too had noticed Clare's reluctance to even discuss anything remotely romantic whenever he'd been in her presence, though did not believe it constituted Sean's strict approach.
The doors to the church were opened and conversations about Clare were quickly forgotten. Everyone present at the place of worship, rose in respect to the bride appearing in the doorway. James glanced over to David's wonderstruck face when he lay his eyes upon the partner he'd missed so dearly. The bump where their child was growing was magnified by the perfect wedding dress clinging to her body. On his row, a smile on the Englishman's face from understanding how much the child meant to the couple.
The organ started to play out a tune as Orla, on the arm of her Granda Joe, began the long walk up the aisle. Behind her, he spotted the three main bridesmaids along with their special bridesmaid for the day in front of them; little Anna Quinn herself.
Michelle and Clare looked resplendent following on behind the younger Quinn daughter, beaming smiles plastered across their faces. But it was the older Quinn daughter that captured his eye.
Orla might have been the one getting married, but in James's head, Erin was the one stealing the show, a complete robbery from under her cousin's nose.
She looked…
Exquisite.
Across the crowded church their eyes met, and neither could help the small, giggled smile that they shared. Her cheeks were glowing when they did, undone just as easily as she usually was whenever he dared to look at her. On the journey up the aisle though, it was her sister who made the most out of being in the vicinity of him, James being stood on the inner end of the row that he was on.
"James!" Anna called out as she saw him.
She ran to him, prompting him to prepare his arms wide to receive her. The little girl would always want a hug from him whenever she saw him, another precious friendship that he'd come to cherish. He wrapped his arms around her, spotting the pleased faces on both Mary and Gerry as their youngest broke out of line to embrace him tightly.
"There, there… you'd best get back into line Anna". He whispered into her ear.
As he raised his head, a wide grin across his face, his eyes were drawn to Erin as she passed by, mouthing 'Thank you' to him for giving her sister the hug that she wanted. He nodded to her in acknowledgement, still marvelling over how stunning she looked in her blue dress.
The ceremony went by a blissful daze, with barely a dry eye in the church once the rings had been exchanged and the priest announced that it was time for the groom to kiss his bride. David kissed Orla tenderly up at the altar, to the rapturous applause of their loving audience, who were still drying their eyes. Sarah had practically fallen apart from the moment she'd walked into the church behind the bridesmaids. Napoleon the dog accompanied her, and even the Labrador could have been challenged on being choked up, his bark serenading the couple as they walked back down the aisle, happily married at last. James ended up receiving a duty for the day, when Anna returned to his side as they walked out behind the newlyweds. She wished to be carried out by her favourite fella, her 'best friend from England', a title she'd began to know him by.
There was a chance to mingle with the other guests outside once the ceremony was over, David and Orla keen to thank as many people as they could for attending the service. Anna never left his side, the little Quinn placing her little hand in his big one once he'd put her down, not having any intention of letting it go. He'd spoken with Mary and Gerry first, who secretly adored the way he caved into any attention that their youngest wanted, treating her almost as if he were her father. Every so often he'd scan the crowd and each time he found Erin scanning for him in return, gradually making her way to him over the course of a few minutes.
"Erin! Erin! Come here!" Anna begged of the sister she loved.
"Alright Anna, I'm comin'".
Failing to supress the laugh that bubbled over from within, Anna laughed with her, as did James. They were all being rather silly, not that any of them cared.
"Are you being nice to James?" Erin asked as she stopped in front of them.
"Yes! He's keeping my hand safe!"
"Aye I can see that".
Above her sister's head, Erin comically rolled her eyes in James's direction, making him snort out a chuckle in a completely ungentlemanly manner. The snort set the Quinn sister's off laughing and it was another minute before they'd all regained their composures in order to hold a conversation again. Silly eejits, the three of them…
"Why don't ye hold James' other hand Erin?"
Anna's suggestion was innocent but incredibly deadly. Erin's head monologued one story to her, but another part of her brain forced her to remember how easily he could make her knees invalid. Taking a grasp of his hand in public could ruin them… but she knew if she did not, the risk of upsetting Anna was high.
"He… he might not want me to". She tried to think of an excuse not to.
"He wouldn't object". The Englishman added on his own behalf.
"See Erin. Please?"
If she refused Anna, she'd never hear the end of it at home and would no doubt be in trouble with her parents for making her sister cry on Orla's wedding day. Taking the deepest breath of her life, Erin moved to stand on James's empty left-hand side and placed her slightly smaller hand into his. The thoughts in her head turned to the ones that she wouldn't be able to air, especially in the setting of a house of God.
However, none of the three had considered the thoughts of the one onlooker to the scene of James holding hands with both Quinn sisters. His cousin had noticed, and she was absolutely Jack the Ripping about it.
"I'll find out what yer up to… ye dirty English bastard".
Mingling was drawing to a close, with some of the guests having already left to return home to prepare for the dancing later that evening. Anna and Erin were called away from James after a couple of minutes, to start the walk back to their house alongside the happily married couple. The Englishman had another idea however, one which he put into action, leading the girls back to their family.
"Keepin' good care of both of my girls. Thank ye son". Gerry addressed him.
"Does a better job of it than you do". Joe commented against his son in-law.
She couldn't show it with literally all of her family members in front of her, but there was an incredible reluctance on Erin's part to let go of his hand. Anna had done so without question once her mother commanded it, but it took her an extra half second to convince her body that clinging to James would have to wait for another time. Like at the dance…
"David". James called out to his friend.
"James… ye alright?"
The Englishman did not respond verbally, but held up the keys to the Morgan instead. David knew what he was saying without having to ask. Could he accept it though? James had already purchased his suit for the wedding; offering his Morgan up as a wedding car was above and beyond.
"No…".
"Catch".
He caught the keys as they streaked over the heads of the Quinn's and McCool's, coming to a rest in his palms. Palms that trembled with improbable excitement, adding to the layer of excitement already created by marrying the love of his life.
"James, I can't…".
"Yes. Yes you can my friend. Drive your wife back home in style. I'll pick the car up later".
To James' surprise, David pushed through the crowd of his new family to embrace his friend. A friend who'd done so much for him during such a short acquaintance. Though surprised, James accepted the warm gesture from a friend who'd played an equally vital role in his life. David could have been unaccepting of a well-spoken, well-dressed young Englishman invading his small town, but had opted to welcome him with open arms, going against what many of his fellow countrymen would have done. A foundation for an everlasting, brotherly love for each other, cemented by nights talking about cars and women at The River.
"Thanks. I… I don't know what to say".
"Say nothing… but you are getting next week's first round at the pub… no excuses".
"I think I can handle that".
Guffawing at their agreement, they soon parted to allow David to lead Orla to the car. The rest of the family set off walking, Erin and Anna waving to James as he stood watching them all off safely. The Morgan roared into life at David's command of the ignition, giving the thumbs up to James before shooting off. He could trust David with the car, his friend being a mechanic by trade, holding no fears that he would find it damaged upon walking to their house to retrieve it.
"Oi, Dicko!"
Having shut himself off from the world to view their departure, James was blindsided by Michelle sidling up to his right side. He didn't quite jump out of his skin at her voice, but it signified that conversational language was about to take a drastic nosedive into its most common, vulgar form thanks to Michelle's mouth. A mouth that even the most effective soaps would have difficulty in riding of the filth that spewed from deep within.
"Michelle, may I say I don't think I have ever seen you looking so beautiful".
Unlike Erin, and because they were related, she couldn't be fooled by his predictability English flattery. Not that she didn't enjoy the compliment… although she always looked beautiful, so it meant nothing.
"Try that on someone who hasn't come up the Foyle in a bubble…". She shook her head. "… what the fuck's goin' on with you and Erin?"
"I beg your pardon?" He reared up.
"Ye heard me, ye limey bastard. I saw the two of you's holding hands… and ye were holding Anna's… enjoy that do you, holding little girl's hands?"
"Is that the sound of jealousy I hear Michelle?" He skilfully defended his reputation. "Does Anna not ask for your hand to hold?"
It was jealousy when it came to Anna.
Michelle adored Erin's little sister, but the feeling didn't always come across as mutual. Learning through Erin that Anna's new favourite thing in the world was her dickhead, ballbag English cousin, only enflamed those feelings. She wouldn't be revealing that though…
"No! But what about Erin? You two are always up to somethin' together!"
"Am I not allowed to have friends Michelle? I have told you on numerous occasions that I consider her to be one of my best friends and if a friend wishes to hold the others hand, it can be done so without the need to bring salacious thoughts to the fore".
"You swear!?" She challenged.
"On my honour". He held his hands over his chest as he replied.
His cousin let it go to be able to start their walk back to the Mallon household without any further conflict needing to arise on the journey. He would be returning home with them to rest for a couple hours before freshening up ahead of the walk to the Quinn house to pick up his car and drive Erin to the dance.
Erin his friend.
Erin his friend who always brought salacious thoughts to the fore.
Always…
Unsurprisingly, the school hall was out of the question when it came to the dancing that evening. Though Sister Michael may have been at the very least a friendly acquaintance to the McCool and Donnelly families, their connection to Michelle and Clare, and in turn the dance incident of earlier that month, was the explanation given for her forbidding it at the school. Instead, they would spend the evening dancing at one of the dance halls in the centre of the city, a plush location but one that came at an unusually reduced cost. Professor Joyce partially owned the dance hall and with some persuasion from James, had agreed to allow half of the fee for renting the hall out go for the night. He owed him as much due to the excellent job that he'd been doing with the Professor's finances. The downside to it would be Jenny's attendance and the worry that she might attempt to publicly advance upon him, which would prove to be most awkward when he was already accompanying Erin. Though Erin obviously did not hold the same intentions as Jenny…
Sat with Michelle, Erin and Clare, he'd done very well to avoid the young Joyce girl. She was definitely there, all eyes being drawn to her when she'd made her grand entrance along with a group of her friends. They were all deeply embarrassed with the spectacle she'd demanded, Aisling particularly, quickly integrating themselves into the dancing to avoid any further adverse behaviour from Jenny. The rest of the girls were all in different dresses to the ones they'd worn earlier in the day, mostly due to the stuffiness of the dance hall. They were all aware of how bad it could get given previous visits to the venue, changing into more comfortable attire for the evening that afternoon. James lost his suit jacket for the dancing to keep himself cool, retaining his gentlemanly look from the bow tie remaining on.
"So James, when are ye goin' back to England again?" Michelle enquired, with what he took as a grunt.
"Do not fret my dear cousin, I am not planning on going anywhere yet".
Erin, whose heart had stopped for a brief second to consider whether he'd withheld news of his departure from her, internally sighed in relief. It was just Michelle being horrible to him as usual, and as much as she hated her friend doing so, it was far better than the briefly considered alternative.
"Well ye never know, yer hand might be forced". She joked.
"Forced? Not by you though Michelle…".
"Aye of course not by me!" He was rebuked for the ridiculous suggestion. "I was thinkin' about those German fella's".
"Why the Germans?" Erin interjected.
"They're right angry fuckers them Germans".
Michelle's comment was not too far from the truth. Adolf Hitler's Nazi's were a dangerous government who had designs on prizes that went beyond the boundaries of their country. They'd already been allowed to annex part of Czechoslovakia the previous year just to keep the peace, an act that showed the sway they held over the rest of Europe. They might not have been alive to see it, but it hadn't been that long since the Great War. Memories were living on through their older relatives though, who'd always said that another war like the last should be avoided at all costs.
"I would hope war is unnecessary". James told her honestly.
"And if it isn't?" His cousin pressed on.
"I don't know. It… it's not something I like to think about really".
"Can we talk about something else Michelle? This is supposed to be a fun evening…". Erin complained to her.
A complaint which was wordlessly disregarded by her friend.
"Yer lucky, livin' here ye won't be conscripted".
"Michelle!" Erin warned again, to be completely ignored once more.
"Would you volunteer to fight James? I can't see ye with a gun, shooting at other people… yer too fuckin' soft".
Fighting in a war. James never wished to actively go into combat against anyone, favouring the art of diplomacy over any hostile negotiations. But if he were to fight, the life of an ordinary foot soldier would not be the one he would want to lead at all. Or be the one he'd sign up for.
"If it comes to war, I'll do everything I can to protect those that I care for… you included Michelle".
"What!?"
Erin managed to jump in ahead of Michelle to reply to his statement. He couldn't go off to fight… he could get killed… and then she'd be without him forever. Did he not understand the damage it would do!?…
"Only if it was necessary Erin". He clarified. "Let us hope that it will not be".
"You'd make a good target for the Germans to practice on". Michelle laughed.
"And you would make a perfect solider I think Michelle. In fact, I think you should be conscripted as a matter of priority".
"What the fuck are ye on about?" She challenged.
"You Michelle… you'd terrify those poor German boys. There isn't a bomb in the world that could compete with your dulcet tones".
His incredibly gentlemanly insult raised the eyebrows of both Erin and the previously unmoved Clare, watching whilst Michelle tried to process what he'd said. Being the one in charge of dishing out the verbal punishment on a regular basis, it felt very strange to be on the end of it for a change, an incredibly well-crafted end too.
"I'm goin' for a dance".
Huffing in defeat, Michelle rose from her chair and walked to the dance floor, instantly finding a fella to dance with. Erin, impressed by James dealing with her so stoutly without being truly offensive, turned her mind to their dance. They were yet to do so since arriving, favouring a drink and talking to the bride and groom before joining the crowd who were busy dancing. He was more concerned by Clare however, who hadn't said a word to any of them for a while. Sat in her seat opposite him, her face betrayed more than the usual level of worry that night. Clare was a kind soul and to see her with what appeared to be tears in her eyes, upset him. Tipping his head towards the diminutive blonde, he communicated his worry to Erin, who in turn agreed with him. The queen of the cack attack rarely remained completely silent; the unexplained difference in behaviour would need to be investigated.
"Clare?" James led them, witnessing his friend turn her head up to him at the call of her name. "Are you alright?"
"Fine!" She replied very unconvincingly.
"Clare… yer not fine". Erin took over. "If there's something wrong, tell us".
Holding a problem that couldn't be vocalised to them, or anyone, was difficult. Her father's actions were not helping at all, sitting on the precipice of where the unheard truth made itself a home. She couldn't blame him for wanting to find a good young lad for her to court and eventually settle down with. He was a family man with family values; wishing to pass those family values onto his daughter was a very noble thing for Sean to do. But he failed to understand the issue of matching Clare to a man. She held no attraction for a man when it came to romance or the even more delicate issue of sex. Against all of the teachings that a combined effort of the church, the school and her parents had drilled into her over a number of years, Clare was only attracted to other girls. She might not have been a man who liked another man, a crime that society deemed even more obscene than the one that she was committing, in the eyes of her father it was still that. A crime. A dirty, despicable, disgusting crime.
"I… I can't talk about it…".
"Ach come on Clare, we won't tell Michelle!" Erin playfully tapped her arm.
"It's not Michelle!" She angrily moved away. "I… I just can't tell anyone… alright, I'm sorry".
"We're worried about you Cl-".
"James!"
The young Devlin was spared from any further questioning when Jenny Joyce's recognisably cheerful voice called out for the English fella. Whilst she might have been spared, the wheel of fate fell unkindly on Erin. She was well aware from both James' admissions to her and listening in on conversations David had about it with Orla, that Jenny was trying desperately to secure him for herself. Yet to be drawn into any conflict with her competitor for his perfect, muscular body, her eyes narrowed on the Professor's daughter. For once she was alone without Aisling or any of her other friends available to back her up, but it probably wouldn't matter anyway. If she so wished, she could purchase James for marriage like Erin would purchase groceries on a Saturday morning shopping trip.
"Jenny". He replied cordially. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
"I am, so I am". She replied, surprisingly slurring her words to indicate an alcohol intake that was most unusual for her.
"That is very good to hear. What can I help you with?"
With what he could have only assumed was a rush of blood to her head, Jenny strode forward and climbed on top of him in his seated position. Finding no escape route, he turned his head to Erin to look for assistance, only to see that she was no longer in her seat.
"Kiss me". Jenny commanded him.
Completely unwilling to do so, and losing the battle to remain a gentleman, he was about to rebuke her in a way he'd never done to any other soul before when she was suddenly yanked by the hair and thrown to the floor. The music thankfully covered the shocking scene, otherwise everybody at the dance hall would have had their attention diverted to Jenny's slight figure on the wooden floor. Stood over her, Erin's face was charged with the power of thunderstorms, tornados and hurricanes, an almost murderous look in her eyes. He'd never seen a woman become so angered before, and he was not unused to seeing the rage of the opposite sex, having seen his mother's temper on more than one occasion at home in London.
Picking herself up off of the floor, Jenny rose to her feet to confront the attacker, an equally furious demeanour rising.
"Erin Quinn… I could have yer family ruined for that!"
"Catch yourself on Jenny! How dare you decide to attack James in that way!"
"Attack him! I… I wanted a kiss… we're to marry, aren't we James!" She drunkenly announced.
Erin's body threatened a complete shutdown, once again fearing that James may be hiding the truth from her. But upon seeing the disgust written across his face, her body was calmed.
"We are most certainly not Jenny! Now I apologise for your unceremonious departure, but me and Erin were preparing to dance. We do not require your rude interruptions".
"She's… she's…". The drunk Jenny slurred for a second time. "… she's of a lower class James. She's not one of us…".
"Lower Class!" Erin snapped back. "Comin' from you, steamin' drunk and ridin' him in front of all our families! Ye need to wise up Jenny!"
Not known for putting up even a verbal fight when sober, Jenny's type was the angry drunk. Opening her palm, she pulled her arm back to slap Erin square across the face, but found it caught in mid-air with a tight grasp on her wrist. James' grasp.
"I will tell you only once…". James's voice changed to one unheard of from him previously. "… I came here with Erin tonight, with the intention to enjoy the evening of her cousin's wedding and dance with her. I still fully intend to do so. I have a great respect for both you and your father Jenny, but there will never be anything between us and I most certainly do not wish to marry you! We are going to go out onto the dance floor… neither I nor Erin expect to speak to you again for the rest of the night. Understood?"
Ripping her arm back from out of his hold, a raging Jenny turned on her heel, storming off without another word to either of them.
Erin was frozen.
She'd seen a side to James that she did not previously know existed, a powerful entity within the charming and cheerful young man that she pined for.
That James.
That James only furthered her lust for him.
Caught up thinking about his commanding tones and how she wished he would command her to do whatever he wanted her to do, she hadn't noticed he'd taken her hand and led them to the middle of the dance floor. Behind her back, Clare gave James a thumbs up, a code he recognised as the coast being clear from Professor Joyce coming to give the Englishman a piece of his mind. She still didn't look too pleased though, James making a mental note to attempt to discover what ate away at Clare on another day.
Shaking the unholy images of James from her sinful mind, Erin complied with his request to begin dancing. It was a slow song that they could sway to, without having to put in any significant effort like some of the first dances had required. The type of dance where one partner could lay their head on the other's shoulder, where the other's hand could run down their back and tou-… Stop sinning… stop sinning!
"Thank you". James whispered to the barely functioning Erin.
"F… For what". She blurted out quietly in return.
"Saving me from Jenny. I cannot believe her audacity to climb onto my lap like she did. I thought I'd been clear about my feelings towards her…".
"She can't have ye!" Erin quickly stopped him in a panic. That continued. "I… I mean as in she's not right for ye… she only cares about money and not love. And yer my friend… I wouldn't want to see ye get hurt".
Pleased by her acknowledgment of their strong friendship, he smiled at her caring for him so dearly. He cared for her in the same way. He'd already made a promise to himself that he would make sure that whichever man was lucky enough to marry her, would be the right one. A man that needed to be spot perfect…
"My friendship with you is one of the most important things in my life. I could not jeopardise that by reneging on my offer to dance with you tonight. But my debt to you has increased also".
"James…". She tried to stop him, for multiple reasons, but mostly to remind him that he did not owe her a penny. Love came with no cost in her eyes.
"Come closer…".
OH….
OH MY…
Breath caught in Erin's throat.
It was the moment she'd been waiting for, the impossible dream that should have remained just that, was about to become reality.
OH MY GOD I'M NOT READY!
ALL THESE DREAMS… AND I'M NOT READY!
I'M NOT READY!
I'M NOT READY!
She didn't have the luxury of being unready as James had already leaned in. Pressing her lips up in anticipation, Erin closed her eyes, to be claimed by a world of hormonal bliss. The beginning of the most significant part of her life…
"Meet me in the fields by my cottage next Saturday afternoon. I have a surprise for you".
The moment was not… the moment. Whether she was ready or not did not matter at all. Instead of having his lips smothering hers, they were placed next to her ear.
Having her hopes crushed, she recovered her composure, although the mysterious meeting still at least kept the dream alive. And the surprise was for her… and her only.
"Erin?" He questioned when she failed to respond.
"Y…Y-Yeah, alright I'll come. I don't have surprises very often".
"Oh don't worry…". He whispered in a voice that was… husky, if anything. "… you will have your breath taken away".
Erin couldn't fault his logic. He was already doing a good enough job of taking it away right then and there, especially when his hands were on her waist, itching at her demanding skin which begged for more. More that was locked behind the gate of a dashing gentleman.
As the two eased back into their routine, they were unknowingly being watched by the bride and groom themselves. Those two were sat at their table at the head of the room, shared with David's brothers and Sarah, who were all either dancing or smoking.
"She seems to be enjoying it". Orla mused to her husband.
"That she does love… that she does".
"James doesn't believe ye then?"
"No. But I don't know how much longer Erin will control herself around him".
"Me neither… me neither".
Orla sank into David's chest, his hands wrapping around her and coming to rest on the bump of her belly. He began to stroke her stomach gently, an act which caused her to break out into giggles from her natural ticklishness.
"I love you Mrs Donnelly".
"I love you Mr Donnelly". She copied his statement. "Yer my wee Prince".
Accepting the title, David leant down to place a kiss on his wife's lips, one which would continue on for a few minutes without interruption.
Mr and Mrs Donnelly, together in holy matrimony.
Taking a second glance over the dancing couples, David pondered on how long it would be until the next wedding occurred in the family. With the close proximity of his friend and Orla's cousin, even if the former couldn't see the latter's unsubtle pining, he didn't think it would be too long at all.
Not too long until it was Mr and Mrs Maguire, together in holy matrimony.