Chapter 12: Friends in high places 8th March 1996
Friday came around and James still fought. The young man who the doctors never believed would make it far past surgery was still battling on almost a week later. The progress was minimal but by Thursday, there were the first flickers of an improvement. His lungs remarkably were beginning to function to how they should, and the doctors deemed him able to come off the life support, but he remained in a coma. There was still concern for the head injuries he'd sustained and the lasting damage they could have caused him, so that is how he remained.
Throughout the week a daily rota took place of people visiting him. The doctors encouraged them to talk, to him and with each other while they were in the room, in the belief it would help his recovery in the long term. Every night Erin slept on the makeshift bed, the staff washing the sheets and delivering fresh blankets for her as Deirdre arranged. She would wake up and spend time with her wee English fella before school, telling him which lessons she had each day and how much she loved him. Deirdre would take over for a few hours, usually until around half past ten, still being around for a lot of the day as she continued to work, drawing from the inspiration of the girls' bravery in going to school. Joe would then sit in with him until two, Paul joining him on the Wednesday, where their racehorse and the rest of the racing were discussed. Mary would then take over at two, accompanied by Clare's mother Geraldine, who held the lad in just as high regards. They would stay with him through until six, the kids joining part the way through the afternoon and the conversations varied between them all. Homework would often be completed at the tables in the room, the four girls supporting each other to complete each piece. They would then be replaced by Gerry and Sarah, driven by Joe, who would sit in with the lad whilst Mary took Erin and Orla back with her father to have dinner. Martin, his workplace understanding the circumstances and not asking him to travel, would be on hand to pick up Deirdre and Michelle, with Clare going home with her mother too. Joe would return at half past eight with Erin and take Gerry and Sarah back with him. She would take up her usually nightly spot at ten after speaking about how the lessons she'd described in the morning went… and how much she loved him again. It was a real team effort.
School days were difficult for them, but with the support of Jenny and Aisling, as well as all of the staff and most students, they got through it. Orla continued to be the rock of the group, the only one yet to have to leave the classroom at any point. Erin had a couple of moments throughout the week where everything became a bit too much, Clare and Michelle having a moment each, but as promised there were no reprisals. Mr Flanagan spoke to them after each occasion to check if there was anything he could do, and they would all speak to him each day. He would be visiting the Englishman along with Sister Michael on the Saturday morning, showing further support for the girls once again. Moira O'Keefe stayed out of their way and they didn't go looking for trouble with her either. In lessons she said nothing, the occasional glance over at them but nothing tangible when it came to any abuse directed their way.
It was lunchtime and the four girls were sat together, without Jenny and Aisling as they were helping Sister Michael with something, conversation turning to their first weekend in a long time with no plans.
"You should all do something". Erin suddenly said to them. "Ye know… go somewhere… tonight. The pub or something".
"What?" Michelle replied.
"Go out. Take yer minds off things".
"Catch yourself on Erin!" Michelle again spoke up. "We do things together, we aren't going anywhere without ye".
"Aye. We're a team remember!" Clare agreed with her.
"I can't go anywhere tonight. I've got to be up to work the horse in the mornin'".
"See, no Orla either. We aren't goin' nowhere". Michelle reasoned.
Erin thought they might say that, but she still felt guilty that her refusal to leave James's side at night was holding them back from what they might want to do.
"Please, the two of ye, please just go out and have some fun". She begged of them.
"We can't Erin!" Clare hissed. "We can't just…".
"I think ye should too". Orla voiced her agreement with Erin. "Don't stop yer plans because I'm not there".
"Orla!" Clare turned to her.
"Clare…". Michelle put a hand on her wrist to calm her, sighing. "…maybe they're right. Maybe we need a night away… glam up and get pissed".
"Maybe not that far Michelle". Erin giggled.
"We can't!" Clare continued to protest.
"I'm not going on me own". Michelle replied to her protestations.
Clare hated it when Michelle's very rarely seen puppy dog eyes made an appearance. She hated it because she could never say no to them.
"Eugh… fine!"
The rest of lunchtime was devoted to Michelle planning the night with the massively reluctant Clare, but her reluctance was eased when they were invited to a party. All four were if they wished but Erin and Orla said their apologies to the invite. The party was being hosted by a girl in their class who understood if they didn't want to attend but Michelle answered for herself and Clare, much to the small blonde's annoyance. When it came to a party though, Michelle was always going to struggle to say no.
The usual schedule changed on the Friday afternoon as Erin went home first rather than going straight to the hospital. Gerry picked up fish and chips on his home, Fionnula relaxing her ban given what happened to James, eating together with Erin before going to the hospital. Erin asked them to let her have the rest of the night alone with him in there, with only any nurses or doctors coming in to disturb them, a request her parents agreed to. She stood there next to his bed, stroking his curls like she had done all week and telling him about her day.
"Michelle and Clare are off to a party tonight James. I know you would want them to keep going and have fun even if you couldn't be with them. It'll be good for Michelle I think, after everything with Danny, she needs to find a good lad and she might at the party. Clare too. I know Mikayla let her down gently but there might be others out there for her".
Erin stopped to sigh. She wished she could be at the party too, James dancing with her as the music drowned out the room and they could then walk home and kiss under the stars.
"We've got plenty of those occasions to look forward to though". She started speaking to his prone figure again. "I might even ask Mammy if we can have a wee party once yer better. Could you imagine? Everyone would have to give their full details out and what blood type they were, Mammy chasing lads who've had one too many down the street with the wooden spoon. It'd be cracker".
She paused again, going through the scene of a party at the Quinn house in her head and finding herself chuckling. They probably wouldn't be allowed anyone beyond their group, Jenny and Aisling aside, and Uncle Colm would end up as the DJ. The hits would be non-stop, but they wouldn't be tunes that could be danced to, unless there was a dance for the story of Lizzie McDuff and her foot chase with a swan down the Limavady Road.
She was distracted from remembering that story when the doors opened and a visitor from England appeared in the room.
Not Kathy.
Harriet.
In the week from hell that Erin had endured, she'd not really given too much thought to what Harriet would think when she heard the news about James's attack. Though they'd only known each other for a brief period of time, Erin knew that James had rang her a couple of times since the start of the year to see how she was getting on and their friendship remained solid. In hindsight she should have asked Jenny and whilst Jenny hadn't said anything herself, Erin realised it was more from not wanting to add any further thoughts to her head that she'd maintained the silence. It made for a nice surprise.
"Harriet". Erin smiled.
The blonde was as beautiful as ever. She was casual, in a jacket and jeans, not quite the denim jackets Erin and James sported but of quality nonetheless.
"Oh Erin".
Harriet ran over to her and they embraced, the two blondes crying into each other's shoulders for a couple of minutes. Erin held her tightly in the embrace, grateful for the love and friendship that Harriet held for them.
"How is he?" Harriet asked as they parted.
"Fightin'". Erin smiled, flickering her eyes back to James. "Fightin' with everything he has".
"He's strong". She remarked. "I heard about his injuries and…".
Harriet herself whimpered, remembering when the news came through late that Sunday morning. She was playing with her younger brother and listening to the radio when it came, having to stop what she was doing. Her parents were aware of the friendships she'd made in her brief stay in Derry and comforted her in a rare touching moment. Her own relationship with them was often strained; their expectations of her were high and she had a name that carried weight. But when it came to a certain Englishman in Derry, they'd softened, and her father especially was horrified by the capability to inflict such injuries on another human being.
"I don't know how he's alive Harriet". Erin cried. "And we still don't know if he'll be the same when he wakes up".
"What do you mean?"
Erin stared at her for a moment trying to work out why she would ask such a question. It was his head injury of course, the whole reason he was still in a coma. How could s- oh of course…
"The cops left one injury off the list…". Erin explained to her. "… an investigation technique they said".
"I see". Harriet replied, sniffling.
The two of them sat down, a nurse bringing cups of tea for the both of them, rejecting Harriet's offer of some money for her kindness on the way out. They sat there in silence for a few minutes drinking their tea, a peaceful silence that Erin enjoyed, despite it making the sound of the machines louder in the room's atmosphere.
"Does Jenny know ye here?" Erin finally broke the silence.
"Yes. I'm heading off to her house when I leave here".
"Right". Erin smiled. "How come ye got here so fast?"
"Private plane. And my father had a car sent too for my time here". Harriet responded.
"Is that not dangerous?" Erin was curious.
"In some ways I suppose. He is a Lord and I suppose that makes our family a target for certain acts of aggression. But I was always going to come, I knew the two of you would still be together and that meant you would be in pain and needing all of your friends".
Erin grinned happily at the English girl, a thanks for her thoughtfulness. The original jealousy that she held for Harriet was long forgotten and there was no doubting the friendship with her would be a long lasting one. She stayed for another twenty minutes and the topic of discussion moved onto her life back in England. The relationship her parents chose for her seemed unappealing at first but getting to know the young man she was being 'matched' with, they'd found a genuine connection and love for each other. It was rarely the way in those sorts of relationships, a lot of King's and Queen's throughout history held little to no love for each other and that was the basis of the eventual marriage Harriet would have. Happiness was always a side note but Erin was delighted that there was a true bond between her and her boyfriend.
"Thank ye for coming. I appreciate it". Erin said to her as Harriet put her coat back on.
"He's strong for you Erin. Remember that". Harriet replied as she pulled her in for a hug.
Erin just held it together so that she didn't cry on Harriet's shoulder and they pulled away from each other smiling.
"Oh, and I meant say…". Harriet said before departing. "… I have something for you to tell Joe. My father had a word with Mr Major, Joe won't have to worry about anymore comments".
Harriet flashed a cheekier smile and turned away to leave the room. It left Erin with an ever-wider smile on her face.
They had friends in high places.
Harriet's father to deal with the politics, God to keep James alive.
The party was in full swing by the time Michelle and Clare turned up. They were late, Michelle falling asleep after starting to drink the moment she got home when she found neither Deirdre nor Martin present. It took severe banging on the doors and windows from both Clare and the taxi driver to wake her, but they succeeded just before the driver's patience ran out. There was plenty of booze when they got there, Michelle heading straight for the shots whilst Clare sipped gingerly at a vodka and coke. Success when it came to meeting anyone special was a different story to the victory in getting a good drink. Despite the house having at least one hundred people packed into it, not one guy or girl interested the pair of them.
"Fucks sake!" Michelle grumbled.
"I know, this is shit!" Clare moaned.
"Great idea of Erin's this, I'd rather be sat in that fucking room listening to those fucking machines".
They both grumbled and sighed, Clare not voicing it, but thinking along the exact same lines as Michelle. Being in James's room at the Hospital, machines telling the doctors and nurses of his condition drumming in their ears… that was far more palatable than the party.
"We could take the party back to mine". Michelle put the idea across.
"What about yer parents!? Clare nervously suggested.
"Ach, if it's just you they won't care. Ye can stay over if ye want".
"What about my parents!?
"What about the Queen of fuckin' Sheba? Stop asking questions Clare, just fuckin' come back to mine and we'll get proper hammered!"
Michelle shouting it out over the music that drowned most conversation out brought a laugh out of Clare and she agreed but wanted to use the loo before they left. Rolling her eyes, Michelle told her she'd wait outside and lit up a cigarette. They would walk back instead of getting another taxi as Michelle reasoned getting a bit of air wouldn't do them any harm and the night wasn't overly cold like some of the nights the previous week. But after a minute, she soon regretted the decision to leave at that very moment and regretted ever coming at all. Not noticing the figure at first, she looked over to the end of the drive and leaning up against the side of a car was Danny Scanlon.
That bastard.
The same bastard that strung her along.
Her own feelings that she'd pushed away, buried beneath the anguish of James's condition, began a destructive march into the front of her mind. There were no friends to stop her, nothing else to put her mind to and the combined influence of pre-drinks, a couple of rounds of shots and more became the deadly mix that told her to confront him right there and then.
"OI!" She shouted at him.
Danny looked up and saw Michelle charging at him and grumbled. He never wanted to see her again…
"Piss off Mallon!" He shouted back.
"No! What the fuck were ye playin' at!".
"Fuck off I don't have to answer you!"
"Yes ye fuckin do!" Michelle was right up in his face now. "Leavin' ye ma to clean up ye shit for ye!"
"Ye don't know what yer talking about!" He growled through gritted teeth.
When Michelle looked over his shoulder down the drive, the situation predictably blew up in her face. Moira O'Keefe was walking towards Danny and it didn't take Michelle long to realise exactly what was going on. Bastard…
Danny had been with Moira the whole time.
The bastard played her in a sick game with the bitch who hated them. All their battles with Moira, all the snide comments and the arguments in class, culminated in the brutal actions of the previous week.
"Oh I see!" She scowled at him.
"Ye were a good sport Mallon!". He smirked. "But if someone put a gun to my head and forced me to be with ye, I'd take the bullet".
The comment staggered Michelle. Her self-confidence, sent into a downward spiral by his rejection the previous weekend, was sent to rock bottom. He was cold in his statement, an overriding viciousness that rocked the foundations of her whole existence. Moira smirked the whole way up to Danny's side and they began passionately kissing right in front of her, hands roaming each other in the same way Michelle had hoped to find herself with Danny. They took themselves away after a minute and at the same time Clare walked back out of the house to find the two of them locked together and Michelle slumped down on the curb sobbing. She ran to her.
"Michelle!".
"Michelle!".
She called out her name twice and on the second call, Michelle lifted her head, the tears dropping from her at incredible speed. Clare immediately helped her back up and took her into her arms, the friends standing outside and hugging by the cars. Not a single word was said between them, remaining the same the whole way back to the Mallon house where they both continued drinking and crying. The story was outed to Clare over multiple drinks, the Scanlon named cursed thoroughly and Moira's name meaning total mud.
They eventually passed out, Michelle on her bed and Clare on the floor. Deirdre and Martin found them that way before going to bed themselves and threw a few blankets over Clare, tucking Michelle in and placing a bucket at the side of the bed. It would be needed.
All week, Joe pondered on how to thank Orla for the strength she'd shown the group. His granddaughter, like Gerry, held the fight the rest of the family searched for. The two of them had put their own emotions aside and focused all their efforts in comforting the others. The mature side of Orla which none of them knew existed had come to light during the week and he figured it needed to be acknowledged and rewarded. He'd always took her to the cinema in the past but that felt too much like a child's reward, so instead he decided on a meal. Dropping the surprise on Orla when she returned from school, she jumped into his arms in delight and quickly rushed around to get ready. They were off to one of Derry's fancier restaurants, so Joe donned the same suit he'd taken her to prom in, finding Orla in a beautiful red dress that Sarah had bought her for Christmas. Joe thought himself a lucky man when he saw her; two beautiful daughters and two beautiful granddaughters. I've done a good job…
They had a lovely three course meal, Joe telling her the moment they got there that it was for her courage during the week, something which she shrugged off. He didn't try to force the matter with her though, admiring her humble and modest attitude towards the adulation over any attempt to bask in it. He went as far as allowing her a glass of wine, Orla feeling like a real grown up sitting in the candlelit room, sipping at wine.
"Excuse me". A young woman, only a couple of years older than Orla interrupted them from the next table. "Are you Orla McCool?"
"Ye?" Orla frowned, Joe frowning too.
"I read the story about your race". The woman smiled. "My name's Sophie".
"Hello Sophie". Orla changed the frown into a smile.
"Ye were so inspirin'". Sophie gushed praise upon her. "To beat the boys like that in yer first race, I thought it was cracker!"
"Thank ye. This is my Granda, Joe".
"Joe McCool". He held out his hand and Sophie shook it.
"Ye must be proud of her Mr McCool".
"We all are love". Joe confirmed.
"Can I… Can I ask for yer autograph?" She smiled at Orla.
Orla froze for a second, unsure of how to respond to such a request. The last thing she ever expected was anyone outside of the family truly caring for her achievements, but here she was in one of the poshest restaurants in the city, being asked for an autograph like a film star.
"Here you go love". The beaming Joe took a pen out of his pocket. "You'll have to get used to that when ye big and famous".
All three of them laughed and Orla did her best signature for the first person to ever ask for it. She continued to smile as they finished their drinks, talking away with her Granda about school and some of the things she was learning. Joe always loved to listen to Orla, even if some of the things said were random or came across odd, she was always good for a wee chat.
After they were finished, Joe linked arms with her, and they took a stroll around the streets to walk the meal off before heading home in the car. Continuing their conversations, the topic returned to the autograph.
"De ye feel like a star now?" Joe chuckled.
"Yes Granda!" She giggled. "I'm… famous".
"You'll be a big star love. That I'm sure".
"Thanks Granda". She grinned, pausing for a second. "Can I ask ye a question?"
"Of course love". Joe smiled.
"How did you and Grandma meet?"
Joe stopped, bringing them to a halt by a street corner. For a moment, Orla thought she may have offended him with the question and went to apologise but he started speaking before she had the chance to.
"We were at a dance when we were both in our early twenties…" Joe also began walking again. "… I'd gone with a couple of my mates at the time and yer Grandma with a couple of hers…".
The dancing was in full swing, couples trotting about all over the dancefloor. But for Joe McCool it was a boring night. His mates had both found girls within a few minutes and were amongst the crowds and there he was, stood by the bar on his own. He put his glass of whisky down and then the most beautiful girl he'd even seen strode up next to him at the bar. She too was on her own and also didn't look overly happy with proceedings.
"Are you cursing ye luck too?" She asked.
"Aye". Joe responded, with a nervous feeling in his stomach.
"I do wonder why I bother sometimes".
"Funny". He chuckled lightly. "I say that to myself too".
"Ye drinkin'?" She winked at him.
"Ye dancin'?" He winked back.
A few minutes later and both boxes were ticked…
"Just like that?" Orla laughed.
"Aye love. Just like that".
They turned the corner and reached the car, watching a young couple pass on their way into the city centre for their Friday night. Derry was quiet though, not too many people about enjoying a drink despite the weather being clear.
"Ye know Granda". Orla spoke up again. "I think she'd be proud of ye now too".
"Thanks love".
Getting into the car, Joe kept a little smile to himself and thought of Marie looking down on him with satisfaction. He was doing the best he could for his family and that was all she'd ever asked of him. The most beautiful woman Joe ever met.
It was not far from lights out time at the Altnagelvin Intensive Care Unit. Erin was dressed for bed, still buzzing slightly from Harriet's visit. The television was on in his room and she'd brought up the teletext for her final round of speaking to him that night. She'd had the idea whilst she was getting changed, believing that if the doctors were right that conversation would act as stimuli for him, she could at least read him something he would like to hear. In her own Erin Quinn way of course.
"Right then James. We're off to…oooh Scotland first!" She was almost purring with delight. "And Ayr racecourse".
Reading James the results of the days horse racing would be a challenge for her with some of the more technical terms, but she'd do anything for him if it would help.
"So we start with the one fifty. The winner was called… huh. What a weird name… UK Hygiene which was four to one. That's good isn't it… four to one?"
She remembered a second later that there would be no response, so she continued.
"Anyway, I imagine they'll get rid of the poor thing if it's dodgy… ye know… wash their hands of it!"
Erin's initial giggles turned into full blown laughter at her own joke, believing it to be a brilliant one and hoping that if he could hear her, then he would be laughing, even if he couldn't show it. Calming down she returned her eyes to the screen again.
"Second place was Singing Sand… didn't know sand could sing to be honest… and third was The Stitcher. Ye know James, I reckon the jockey thought he had the race sewn up!"
He might have been unable to say it, but she was still his dose.
