Chapter 4: Seeds of Discontent 1st March 1996
The Church doors always remained open, and for some, six o'clock on a chilly Derry morning was the optimal time to say prayers. The priest wouldn't arrive until half past seven and the lack of people awake at that time of the morning allowed for the early birds to have relative peace within the church. It would be cold, but a good thick coat would do the trick.
But on this particular Friday morning, a man headed towards the confession box. A confession box that he knew would be occupied by a man of the cloth. That was the arrangement.
"Forgive me father, for I have sinned". He started.
"Not yet Mr Scanlon… not yet".
The confession box might have been filled on the other side, but the man of cloth wore a different garment to that of a priest. He promoted a view that the Church could never stand behind and a longing for an Ireland that many agreed with, but not in the way he wished to achieve it.
"Are the plans for your…trial… complete?"
"The three of us have everything we need. All angles covered…all possibilities considered".
"That pleases me Mr Scanlon. Pleases me greatly". The other man smiled through the partition. "And when can I expect to receive the full application?"
"Listen to the midday news on Sunday and ye'll have the details ye need".
That pleased the man on the other side of the partition even more. The quicker this was done, the quicker he could re-mobilise them and acquire the resources he needed.
"And if things don't go as intended?"
"I don't know you, I don't know anyone connected to you and as far as the cops are concerned, we were watching London's Burning with me ma at the time".
"You've rehearsed well Mr Scanlon. I hope the others have done the same".
"They have". He confirmed
"Then I look forward to the news on Sunday". The other man chuckled. "Remember this is for Ireland young Mr Scanlon, the Ireland we want… free from those who've stuck their dirty claws in for too long".
"Aye. This is just the start". The young Scanlon grunted.
"Just remember one thing. No body. Yer making a statement not a murder scene, got that?"
"Aye".
"Two Our Father's and a Hail Mary then. Ye best go now or you'll be late".
The two men both laughed at his priest-like comment before the young Scanlon left, exiting the freezing cold church. The man in the priest's seat grinned with glee. The loss of Sister Kathleen and the rest of her cell was a major blow to the operation, but the three new applicants were ready and hungry to take over where she left off. Youth may not bring experience, but it often bought innovation and it was that innovation that he needed to drive away the British menace. Their trial would test whether their hunger was a mental or physical one and whether they truly hated the Brits as much as he did…
Though the morning assembly was not as tedious as it once was, Jenny's singing hadn't improved over the last few months. The gang may have befriended her but none of them yet dared to mention that her talent for singing just wasn't there. If anything, Aisling held the better singing voice of the two, but Jenny had always insisted on taking the lead and still did.
"Christ, she done yet?". Michelle whispered her moan to Clare.
"My ears… they're burnin'!"
"Ach leave her alone you two". Erin added. "Not like we could do any better is it?"
"I don't know about that". James whispered into Erin's ear. "There are certain sounds I like to hear from you".
James hadn't disguised his flirtations very well as Michelle heard every word of what he said and wanted to boke all over the floor. Her glare at him told him as much and he pulled away from Erin, who he'd left with rosy cheeks and weak knees. Ten seconds later, Jenny bought the morning singing to an end and Sister Michael rose from her seat to give her morning address.
"Good morning everyone".
"Good morning Sister Michael". They all replied fairly spritely.
"That was far too cheery, I don't want to hear so much enthusiasm ever again". She glared at the students. "I only have one announcement and I suppose it can be considered a happy one, not that I am in any way suggesting I support it".
The gang all smiled because they knew what the announcement would be as the head mistress pulled them aside that morning to tell them of her speech. It was quite uncharacteristic to see her checking with them that it was alright for her to say it and they all found themselves admiring her a lot more for it.
"Tomorrow, our very own Orla McCool will be making her debut as an amateur jockey at the Enniskillen Hunt".
All eyes fell on Orla who grinned wildly at the positive attention being shown to her by most of the school. There was still the odd giggle or snigger, but anyone who dared was met with four furious face in return and they were a group not to try and divide; the whole school knew that.
"This is an important milestone in Orla's life, and I ask you all now to give her a round of applause and wish her good luck for tomorrow".
The round of applause came, Jenny and Aisling leading the cheers from the stage alongside the rest of the school around the gang. Orla could have cried if she chose but instead accepted hugs from other students, wishing her good luck and wanting her to do well. James and Erin gave each other warm looks at the love her cousin was receiving and in the melee of well-wishers, they allowed themselves a quick cuddle. Sister Michael had soon seen enough though and cleared her throat incredibly loudly to get the students back in line.
"And I'm sure if you do fall off and hit your head, you'll come back the same as ever".
"Thank ye Sister".
Orla failed to recognise the thinly veiled insult that Sister Michael dished out in her direction, but it didn't matter to her. She was already lost in the adulation from those around her and thoughts of how she would celebrate her win the next day.
"That's all. Off to class now".
Sister Michael dismissed them off to their lessons and the gang were in luck as their first lesson on Friday was History which meant time with Mr Flanagan. They'd already started revision for the summer exams with him and they would be focusing on the Seven Years War and the impact on Ireland. Boring to most, although James found it quite interesting. He also got the chance to thank the History teacher again for agreeing to take them to the track the following day, calling him to the back of the class under the guise of asking a question to say thank you. It was quietly acknowledged by the teacher and he went through the rest of the lesson with a smile on his face.
The gang were sat in their usual spot once again that lunchtime, tucking into their packed lunches and enjoying the craic. They'd had a good day and Erin sat on James's lap again, clinging to him and helping to feed him his lunch, something Michelle found disgusting. It wasn't like he needed the help, and it was just giving the two of them a chance to be even more romantic than normal around her. She didn't need to see it while she ate lunch either. However, peace was soon broken when a group of girls approached their table, headed by a certain nemesis of their group.
Moira O'Keefe.
After the incident on the first day back in January, she'd served her suspension from school and written the apology letter to Erin as Sister Michael requested. She never meant a word of it of course, but words on paper were far easier to lie about than verbally in front of others and it sufficed to get her back to school. Her parents were furious, all of their other children were so well behaved, and Moira stood out like a sore thumb in the family. It didn't matter to Moira though. Her hatred of all things English, and especially James, was a strong as ever. Most of the school accepting his relationship with Erin stoked her fury and she only had one or two friends who agreed with her agenda, making them very much the outliers. They'd sneer at the couple whenever they could, occasionally getting a rise out of one of them but on the whole, Erin and James learned to block her out. Not that it would stop Moira.
"Here comes trouble". Michelle muttered and they all looked over to see the approaching Moira.
"What's this?" Moira huffed. "The famous five and their fuckin' lawyers?"
It would never be a pleasant conversation with Moira. Six of them found offence in her statement, Orla just waving at her instead which only aggravated her further.
"Fuck off Moira". Michelle spoke for the group.
"Beg ye pardon".
"Ye fuckin' deaf then? I said fuck off".
Michelle wasn't playing around, and Clare put a hand on her knee under the table to try to stop her getting up and belting Moira. It was clear the girl was spoiling for a fight but the true victory for them would be not giving her what she wanted.
"I hear yer shackin' up with Danny Scanlon these days. Don't see what he sees in ye if I'm honest, yer a fuckin' slag".
It took a combined effort of Clare, Erin, Orla and Jenny to hold Michelle back this time and the satisfied Moira smugly grinned along with the two friends that flanked her. As Michelle simmered down, she turned her attentions to Erin.
"Still with this fuckhead then Quinn". Another sneer fell from Moira's lips.
"We're very happy thanks Moira". Erin scoffed, taking James's hand once more. "Far too happy to let an insignificant bitch like you spoil our day".
A crowd had begun to form around them and there was a ripple of 'ooohhh's' that went up after Erin's spitefully returned reply. Moira huffed at it, folding her arms and glaring directly at the couple, who squeezed hands even tighter in defiance of her.
"Don't test me Erin! Ye don't even know what yer sayin'".
"Why don't you piss off Moira?". James took over from his partner. "We've heard this all before from you and quite frankly I'm sick of hearing you complain about the two of us. Go and find a lad of your own and be happy, don't take your frustrations out on us because no one will touch you with a ten-foot barge pole".
The reaction of the crowd around them was even more fierce this time and they were all expecting Moira to lunge forward and smack the Englishman. She'd tried it before for a similar comment. Yet this time, Moira didn't lunge or in fact do anything of a physical nature, she just smiled at the Englishman.
"Ye just watch yerself English".
It was an oddly chilling statement from her, one which Erin did not like at all and looked up to James with apprehension. He thought nothing of it though, electing to lean down and give Erin a kiss to really hammer home his point that nothing would get between them.
"Good luck again Orla". Moira's tone stayed icy as she addressed the young McCool. "A real shame Michelle won't be there to see it".
Moira waved her friends on and pushed through a gap in the crowd away from the others, moving away without receiving Michelle's question about her comment. She couldn't understand how Moira would know about it, Danny didn't have anything to do with her and the only others who knew were the rest of the gang. They hated Moira but then that would be the perfect foil. She was aware that despite their so-called 'acceptance' of Michelle not being present on Saturday, that they still didn't like her having the relationship with Danny. It could be sabotage… of course… they were trying to prevent her being with him…
"Which one of you's was it then?"
"Sorry?" The timid Clare replied first.
"I know it wouldn't be Jenny, Aisling or Orla but one of you three's fuckin' told her haven't ye!?"
"Catch yourself on!" Erin snapped. "Ye really think Moira would talk to one of us. As if!"
Erin's argument was logical, but Michelle dismissed it. She knew Erin didn't approve of Danny, anytime he was around she would shy away or treat him with disdain and ignorance. If she had to guess which of the three informed Moira, Michelle believed it was her.
"It was you then!" Michelle shouted at her.
"WHAT!?" Erin roared back.
"I know ye hate Danny but tellin' fuckin' Moira O'Keefe… ye fucking snake!"
"Hey!" James stepped in to defend Erin. "Calm down Michelle, Erin's done nothing wrong. Let's talk about this calmly as a group".
"Fuck off Dicko! I've had it with you lot all telling me Danny's trouble and trying to ruin my relationship with him. I've let you two carry on and this is how ye act when I'm in love". Michelle pointed at Erin and James. "It ends fuckin' here!"
"Do ye want a Dip Dab Michelle?" The zoned-out Orla tuned back into the real world.
"No, I… have you even been fuckin' listening Orla!?"
"Nope".
Michelle had to get away or she was at risk of causing a real fight but with one of the gang, not Moira. It could have been Erin or Orla at this point although she'd most likely transfer all violent outbursts to James because he was English. Obviously.
"Just don't fuckin' talk to me the rest of the day, alright!?"
She stormed off in a huff, straight past the suspicious Sister Michael who soon approached the group to find out exactly what was going on. Clare, for once being the calmest of the group except for Jenny and Aisling (who weren't fully aware of all the details), told the story to the head mistress who almost immediately found herself uninterested and moved along. James sighed as they discussed what to do about Michelle, knowing that it would inevitably fall on his shoulders to bring her back into the fold.
Not one of them looked back to see Moira peering out from around the corner, chuckling to herself about the seeds of discontent she'd sewn within the fabric of their group.
When Mrs Scanlon returned from work at just after seven that evening, she found two of her boys out and just Antony at home. She hadn't seen him since the night before and had wondered all day what he was up to, especially as he was expecting a call about the job interview the day before. He'd come back from it in good spirits and told her too about his chat with Sarah McCool, who his mother remembered fondly. Many years had passed since she'd heard that name in her house, but it was never said in vain or in anger, only in joviality and goodwill.
"Evening Ant". She walked into the living room to find him watching the television.
"Evening Ma". He replied happily.
"So… how did ye get on".
Antony sighed deeply. The bone he'd been thrown was a generous one but, on the day, somebody better had turned up for the interview and he'd lost out. The Antony Scanlon of years before would have gone back to the dealership that night and torched the place but that was the boy in him speaking, not the man.
"I didn't get the job ma". He mumbled the disappointing news.
"Ach come here love".
His mother enveloped him in a warm hug, and he nestled into her, not offering up any tears but instead sighing repeatedly. There would be other opportunities, he knew he could make them, but he held high hopes that it could have been the one and they'd been dashed.
"Ye were out early this morning love? I hope you've not been causing trouble?"
Mrs Scanlon didn't enjoy it when the boys were secretive in their ways and when they veered away from their normal routines. She scalded all of them whenever they did but with Antony the threat seemed higher because of what he'd done in the past when he'd been given free will. The fights… the drinking… the drug dealing… Antony of his early Derry years would find trouble around every corner and in every neighbourhood. If there was ever a big fight, the chances of Antony being it were close to one hundred per cent.
"Of course not ma". He shook his head with a faked annoyance. "I went out to church first thing actually, wanted a bit of time for myself while it was quiet, and no one was around".
"And did ye get the time ye wanted?" She continued her questioning.
"Aye. Very much so". He smiled.
"Good. It's nice to see yer looking for the answers you seek from god and not in some poor fella's face like in Belfast".
Antony sighed and rolled his eyes at his mother, but she was not venomous in her accusations and instead flashed a playful grin.
"Danny was out early too as well ma. I pulled him up about it earlier, but he said he'd gone to get the paper".
"He never left it". She uttered, frowning.
"Ach, probably wanted to read it himself. Maybe one of those ones with the girls on the third page if ye know what I mean".
Mrs Scanlon slapped her son's wrist. She knew what he meant but she didn't like the newspapers that had the topless women in them. She thought the women who did that sort of thing were dirty and had no shame, flashing their chests off like they were goddesses. Antony had always been forbidden from buying those papers, but Danny and Brian were far harder to control when it came to that. At least Antony listened to her when he was their age…
"He's got that girl now Ant, she's the apple of his eye".
Antony grumbled at the mention of his brother's love life. He'd taken his mother's approach when it came to Danny and girls; let him get on with it and don't get involved. He wasn't fond of it, but it was Danny's mess to sort out when it all would blow up in his face.
"Ach I meant to say as well love, did Sarah McCool tell ye about her wain?"
"Orla?" Antony shot up in his seat, interested by whatever news his mother was about to disclose to him regarding her.
"Aye that's her. One of the lads on the shop floor said that she's riding a horse for Frankie Flanagan down at the hunt track in Enniskillen tomorrow".
"Sarah didn't say anything…" He trailed off slightly, deep in thought. "…Ye sure?"
"Absolutely, she's riding a horse called 'The Wee English Fella'. Bit of an outlandish name in these parts don't ye think love?"
Antony couldn't help but grin when he heard the name of the horse. His mother wouldn't understand the name, she didn't know the story, but Antony had gleaned enough from Sarah and Danny to know why the horse was named so strangely. He'd listened intently to all the information about the English lad that was seemingly well ensconced within the Derry community and he knew from the information he'd found out about James, that it was the young Englishman's nickname.
"What?" His mother, seeing the grin, enquired.
"Nothing ma… nothing".
"Will ye go and watch then?"
"I might aye… but probably at a distance. I don't think it would be good if the rest of her family saw me there ye know".
His mother agreed wholeheartedly with that sentiment. The family reputation was alive and well in Derry, even without any of them stoking the fire for some time, and Antony didn't want to upset Sarah's family, especially her father. If there was any man in the world that he would hate to be on the wrong side of then it was Joe; that man was a fierce as they came, a proper tough man.
"Ye da was so proud of what ye did for them ye know Antony". His mother addressed him with his full name, taking his hand and squeezing it.
"I know ma. I know". He breathed out a gentle sigh. "I'll make him proud of me again soon enough".
