Chapter 29: Blood Sins
Flashback. 8th January 1996.
Aine O'Keefe was sat on the sofa, a glass of wine in one hand and a book in the other. She would often wait up for her husband to arrive home. Ronan would have to do overtime, especially when anything broke out in the warehouse, unable to come home until it was fixed. He'd done that same job for so many years, to the point where waking up the next morning to find he'd been in and gone was unsurprising. They'd been together for so long, despite the issues they'd had at times, they were now watching their children fly the nest one by one. At one point, there were nine of them crammed into the four-bedroom house that they called home, as well as the parents, making it three to a bedroom for the wains. Now though, their four eldest were either at University or living in homes of their own, leaving them down to five. It was one of those five, now the second eldest at the house, that gave her additional reasons to be up late that night.
Moira was always the troublesome child of nine. Aine couldn't put a finger on when it had started, but certainly since the age of about ten, it was only Moira who would cause trouble. Her grades remained high despite the behaviour being poor, functioning as the only solace for them, but they'd never truly worked out why she acted that way. There was plenty of fighting for attention in the house between all of the children, yet they were exemplary in their behaviour at school… apart from Moira.
When the phone call came from Sister Michael that afternoon, she knew immediately it would be to do with Moira. She, like the rest of Derry, were aware of the wee English fella, and hearing the incident involved him, didn't surprise Aine. Moira had often made comments about wishing for a free Ireland, the sort of talk that would quickly be suppressed at the dinner table when she would mention it. The comments her daughter made about the lad's girlfriend were out of line, and she'd already given Moira a piece of her mind before dinner. She'd made her write the letter, but when she asked for the lad's surname, Aine wished she hadn't. That was the other reason for why she was staying up to talk to Ronan. A long-buried name splintered a secret that was hidden away within her conscience… one that was hidden in his too.
It was eleven o'clock when he finally made it in, beaming at his wife as he made his way over to the sofa, but finding no smile in return.
"What is it love?" He asked with concern.
Aine sighed deeply.
"Moira's in trouble again".
"Ach Christ…".
Ronan huffed, slumping down onto the sofa next to his wife, who'd already placed a whisky ready on the side table to his left.
"What is it this time?" The frustrated Ronan questioned.
"There was an incident with the Quinn's daughter at school". Aine explained.
"Mary's or Sarah's?"
They both knew the family to some extent. It was very hard to forgot them once you'd met them.
"Mary's. Moira… called her a slapper. Sister Michael's suspended her for the week".
"Oh for Christ's sake! I mean… a week's a bit steep… but why is she goin' round accusin' another girl of… that".
"Yeah… well…". Aine put the wine down to pick up a letter instead, also putting her book down too. "… that's not even the half of it".
Handing the letter over to her husband, the very letter Moira addressed to Erin, she kept her finger under the name she wanted him to read.
"James?" The befuddled Ronan spoke the name.
"Aye, James. The English fella at the school".
"Ach right ye, I remember Moira mentioning him a couple of times…".
"He has a cousin called Michelle…". Aine's tone changed to one that he didn't enjoy.
"Stop speakin' in riddles love… out with it". He cut off the tone he disliked, demanding to know the meaning of it.
"Her mother is called Deirdre…".
That is when it hit Ronan. Deirdre… surely it couldn't be that Deirdre. That Deirdre whose sister was Kathy Maguire… that same Kathy that he'd had the fling with years earlier… that same fling that resulted in Kathy leaving in shame to have an abortion in England… except now it looked like she hadn't done as he believed.
"He…".
"Aye".
Aine's anger rose, remembering when she'd found out about the affair whilst pregnant with Moira. It nearly broke their marriage, but with a combination of the children's best interests and their own hard work, they'd pieced things back together steadily in the years that followed. The surname Maguire suddenly threatened to shatter everything.
"This James is my son…". He blinked back tears, his swallows stinging the back of his throat. "… what if Kathy turns up and wants me to s-".
"From what I can gather she's not interested in him…".
Ronan and Aine continued to talk about it until midnight, tears being shed, and old roads being traversed once again. It wouldn't break them, but it shook the very foundations of a marriage that stood strongly after his indiscretion's years before.
They didn't know that Moira was struggling to sleep that night and had come out onto the landing at the top of the stairs to listen to them.
She couldn't believe it.
The English bastard… the one she hated for his stupid accent.
He was her half-brother.
"DO YE HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE THAT IN YER FAMILY!"
Moira shouted at the Inspector as she revealed the real reason why she wanted James Maguire to die. That night, she'd stumbled upon the ugliest truth that she could have ever thought possible. Her father, the man she loved so dearly, had been unfaithful to her mother those years ago, and the result was an English. Sure, James was fully blood Irish, but his blood was sinful, housed in the body of the equally sinful mannerisms of the criminal bastards from over the other side of the Irish Sea.
"Yer sayin', ye were prepared to kill him… for his accent?" The Inspector was having a hard time understanding her.
"He's a stain on my family". She snarled.
"But what about ye father?" The Inspector questioned. "Is he not guilty too?"
"What… ye think I'd kill me da? That would ruin my family… I'd never do it. He's made his mistakes and me ma' forgave him. End of".
"So that gives ye the right to kill James?"
"I hate the English!" She slammed her fist down onto the table. "I couldn't go to school every day, knowing the truth about who he was… what he was… and having to look at him without bokin'. He couldn't be allowed to live".
It was one of the strangest cases that the Detective Inspector had come up against in his time. When they'd arrested the Scanlon boys, they thought they were looking at severe Provo involvement at the worst. This was different. The undertones of their message remained within Moira's logic, but the true nature of her want to kill James was a personal one. She couldn't alter the mistakes of the past, the ones her father made nearly twenty years earlier, but she could stop the future of what those mistakes created.
"So why involve Danny and Brian?" He moved onto the Scanlon's.
"Simple enough". She replied with a huff. "I already knew Danny a bit, so I seduced him. I got his confidence, convinced him that I loved him… and the stupid fuck really loved me. He hates the English as well ye know… Brian too. That slimy little bastard".
"And Michelle Mallon. You convinced him to seduce her in the same manner you'd seduced him?" The Inspector probed, ignoring the comment about Brian.
"Aye that's right. Danny couldn't see it that way though, what do they say, blinded by love. But he did a good number on Michelle. That fuckin' bitch…".
"You didn't want to harm her though?"
"Why would I?" Moira laughed. "She might be James's cousin, but killin' her wasn't part of the plan… though I'd have probably done it anyway".
It chilled the Inspector to hear a sixteen year old girl speak so nonchalantly when it came to taking human life. The hatred from finding out her relation to James, had, in his eyes, driven her to a vicious psychopathy. It made her a very cold young lady.
"What was this plan?" He pried for details.
"The night we attacked him, Danny told her to meet him at his house… that he had the house alone. Mallon being the fuckin' slut she is, couldn't wait to drop her knickers".
Moira stopped to laugh at her own description of Michelle, with the Inspector making further notes on how disturbing it was.
"We'd followed him home a few times from the Quinn's house, so we knew where to get him. We knew Orla was having her first race that day, and no doubt he would be at their house afterwards. I'd already created a rift within their little group, and I was aware Michelle wouldn't be with him that night. We just had to hope he walked… which he did".
"Michelle being at the Scanlon house kept her out of the way then?"
"She wasn't part of the plan like I said".
The Inspector made notes for a couple of minutes, stared down the whole time by Moira. Her stare was unsettling to say the least, even for an experienced Detective like him; he'd never seen a young girl with so much open hatred. He'd stopped scribbling, taking a moment to compose himself before continuing with his enquires.
"Talk me through what happened on the night the three of you's attacked James".
Flashback, 2nd March 1996
They watched him leave the house. Alone.
It would be that night.
The three of them split up to set the trap they'd agreed. Danny and Brian set off at speed to cut him off at the other end of the alleyway, only narrowly avoiding running into the boring bastard they got stuck behind in the shop a few days before.
James turned into the alley, Moira watching from a distance, her balaclava on and the wooden bat ready in her hands. She'd stolen it from school that afternoon, having crept into the equipment cupboard when no one was looking.
The Englishman was walking along merrily until Danny and Brian appeared with balaclava's over their own heads at the other end of the alley. James was trapped. He looked nervously back at Moira over his shoulder. She still held the bat behind her back, advancing towards him slowly, though with not too much ground to make up. He finally stopped in place and she stopped with him.
"What do you want?"
He'd asked the question to the boys, allowing her to creep forward again, ready to smash his head in with the bat held in her right hand, now in front of her. Hoping he would look behind himself once again, she didn't have to wait long. James was visibly pale as he noted her weapon. The same weapon that was about to teach him that he was a sin that didn't belong in the world. Though this time she couldn't kill him… this time.
"Ye don't belong here English".
Unable to speak as he'd recognise their voices, Danny and Moira let Brian do the talking. He was not acquainted with James unlike the two of them, and with an accent so common in Derry, that it would not be distinguishable from others.
"Maybe not. But I'm here aren't I?"
It was a defiant approach from the wee English fella, making her wish to harm him rise even further. He would pay for his existence.
"That doesn't mean ye should stay… does it?" Brian spoke again.
James was shitting himself. She could tell it without him having to turn around, but he did so anyway, noticing Moira had switched the bat to sit behind her back again. She'd let him know what was coming… he didn't need to keep looking back to see his fate. It was already sealed.
"I hear yer with Erin Quinn…". Brian tortured him. "… good girl no?"
"What's it to you?" James replied with a false display of confidence.
Trying to act defiantly in front of them would do him no favours either.
"She's a Derry girl… she ain't meant for filthy English pigs like yerself".
"Is that so?".
His defiance continued, as he stepped forward to be almost right in Brian's face. It allowed Moira to creep closer, close enough to be able to swing and hit him.
"Erin's capable of making her own choice and she chose me! If you're jealous… tough".
Brian started to laugh at his ridiculous comment. She was laughing under her breath too… in what world would anyone be jealous of him…
"Jealous? Is that what ye think? "No, I'm not jealous. I just think Miss Quinn might need to be…persuaded… to change her fella".
Riling him would make it all the more entertaining. He might even try to do something to one of them first, making it justifiable to defend themselves in their minds. It would just be a very aggressive self-defence.
"Leave Erin alone. If you've got a problem with her, you deal with me".
They were going to deal with him alright…
"Oh English…". Brian couldn't contain his laughter. "… that's just how I wanted it".
Before the signal even came, she was ready to strike. There would be no time for James to look around… to put up his hands to defend himself. The back of his head would be taking the full swing of the bat. When it did come, in the form of a very unfriendly wink, she made her move. With all of her strength, Moira swung, catching him cleanly, hearing the clunk reverberate around his skull. He was sent crashing to the floor, ready to be set up on. They were a pack of wolves and he was their defenceless pray, trampling the English rose into the cold alley ground.
Danny opted to thump him repeatedly, with the odd kick for good measure.
Brian went for kicking mostly, but caught the Englishman with his fists a couple of times too.
Moira opted to stamp on him instead.
"FUCK YOU ENGLISH SCUM!" Danny yelled.
"FUCKING BRIT CUNT!" She bellowed the words, increasing the pace of her stamping.
They stayed like that for a few moments, pummelling him mercilessly as he lay broken on the floor. She wanted more though… she needed more. Her lust to see his blood pour out into the street was too intense to ignore. That was the reason why she'd brought the glass bottle along in the first place. The boys were so busy beating him to a bloody pulp, they only realised she'd stabbed him as the broken bottle found its way out. They'd not heard her smash it at all.
Danny and Brian stopped immediately, to her great disappointment. They still needed to give James a few more kicks.
"What the fuck!"
They were already beginning to move away, soon turning into a full sprint from the scene. She had to sprint after them, not wishing to be caught alone if anything were to go wrong.
"Ye weren't meant to stab him Moira!" Brian complained.
"He'll fuckin live! Though the fuckin' prick shouldn't…". She replied as they ran off into the night.
"Why did ye need to leave him alive?" The Inspector continued the question after she described the graphic events to him. "Yer motivation was to kill James, ye could have very easily done so there and then?"
He already knew of why they needed him alive, but he needed the proper confirmation from Moira too to make it right.
"Wise up…". She scoffed. "The cause didn't need a body at that time. I went along with it temporarily…"
"You had contact with someone?"
"Danny handled that. I let him make the contact went it came to the wider effort. He actually seemed capable of it… surprising really".
"This contact… who are they? A man… a woman?"
"It's the fuckin' holy spirit!" She quipped. "Ye really think I'd tell ye that?"
She was unlikely to spill the beans so readily, that he knew from the moment he considered the exterior source's involvement, though it wouldn't stop him trying.
"Ye have to understand…".
"Oh I understand!" She shouted to interrupt him. "Ye want me to give ye his name so ye can start watchin' him… but ye won't stop him".
"So it's a man?" The Inspector spoke with a wry smile on his face.
"Fuck you". She replied.
With that series of questions unlikely to progress any further, the Inspector slouched back slightly. The vicious attack on James was quite frankly disgusting to be retold. It was his job to listen to it, but he couldn't help but feel nauseous when she took pleasure from the fact they'd came so close to killing him… that she was self-lacerating to herself that the glass bottle didn't finish the job, even though they weren't supposed to kill him. She'd got the Scanlon boys wrapped around her finger. They were her literal servants, pandering to every wish or whim that she required. Without her, the two were very vulnerable. Something which he'd found that morning.
Brian still refused to give them the truth throughout the evening. He'd lied his way through another set of questions, lying again that morning when they worked him over at first light.
It was Danny who made the confession.
A confession he believed he was making through a betrayal from Moira, who his heart was set on. He'd never quite understood her true fascination with making James suffer. He might have been one of the fucking Brits. He might have had that stupid accent too, but James was not a soldier or a politician. He was just another lad. He wasn't willing to take the fall for her, like he'd assumed she'd done by telling the cops that it was them and not her. He overheard a couple of the officers talking about her questioning from down the corridor and when nothing was said during the round of interviews that evening, his mind was clear. Moira was saving herself… and she probably didn't love him.
"Take her back to the cells". The Inspector instructed the two officers stood behind Moira.
She laughed at his attempts to get the truth from her. He must have been one of the dumbest fucks in the RUC if he thought he could get Moira O'Keefe to grass on a Provo. Luckily for him, Danny didn't appear to care if he was found out to be a grass; he just wanted to make sure it was mutually assured destruction where Moira was concerned, willing to give every detail to do it.
"Ye won't stop him. The Brits will fuckin' die". She hummed gleefully.
"I don't think so Miss O'Keefe. Ye might not wish to talk… but others do not share yer view".
With that thought, her face dropped, and it was the Inspector who got the last laugh. Moira wasn't going anywhere. She was guilty and proud of it.
That wouldn't save her in front of the judge though.
Bombshell after bombshell.
That was what it was like for James.
It was a good job that he was in Hospital as everything came to light. If he would have been at school, there was no doubt that he wouldn't be able to cope with it. After being so close to death just a few weeks earlier, he didn't think the colossal pain of the aftermath could be topped, yet the myth he'd created was shattered that Wednesday.
He was expecting the girls to arrive straight from school, his suspicions being aroused when they did not. Though it wasn't unusual for them all to go home quickly to change into more comfortable clothes before they came to see him, especially after a hard day. He wasn't prepared for when they did turn up, minus Orla, along with half of the family. Curiosity on his part went through the roof when Mary, Gerry, Sarah, his Aunt Deirdre and his uncle Martin all arrived. Joe, like Orla, was not present. What sent him over the edge was his mother.
When she arrived with the rest of them, with eyes that betrayed hours spent crying, his worries went into the stratosphere.
Tick Tock
First it was what Moira had tried to do to Orla, and what she'd admitted also.
His recollections of that night would probably never come back, and on hearing the true story of what happened, he never wanted them to. He'd been preyed upon so brutally by people he knew, it was difficult to truly comprehend it. Aware of Moira's dislike of him, James would have never believed her capable of organising such atrocious violence. The Scanlon's too. Brian he couldn't account for, but despite the family reputation and the way he seemed frighten Erin, Danny was just as unlikely in his mind. Danny was certainly a troublemaker; what he did to Michelle was truly revolting from one human to another. But to kill him? Only when the true magnitude of Moira's involvement was explained to him, did he understand exactly why. Like James would for Erin, Danny would have done anything for Moira. Unlike with Erin though, he would receive nothing in return.
The reason why she did it brought a double bombshell.
The hatred of his accent and mannerisms were practiced by Moira on almost a daily basis, therefore it came as little shock when Mary told him how Moira wished for James's existence to cease due to it. The reason why his existence bothered her so much was the harrowing factor that elicited the description of bombshell. Moira O'Keefe wanted him dead because he was a part of her family whether she liked it or not… she couldn't let that stand. He could imagine the rage she was whipped into on learning that they were related… that they shared the same blood of Ronan O'Keefe in their veins. Michelle being his cousin and verbally berating him at every moment paled in comparison at Moira being his half-sister and wanting to see him to an early grave. Bury him, like her father tried to bury the memory of his affair with Kathy all those years ago.
His father. That other half of the double bombshell.
The existence of a father figure in his life was rare, with only his stepdad back in England getting anywhere near to close before Martin, Joe and Gerry. The three of them were fathers to him in their own different ways, Martin serving as a best of both between Joe and Gerry. Discovering that his biological father was alive and living in Derry, hit him harder than any of the revelations about Moira. They'd probably passed on the street without saying a word… or stood in the same queue at the supermarket without knowing who the other was. The subject of who he was never truly came to the surface when he was living in London, even less so with a stepdad around to act as a father instead. It was a sensitive topic that he wanted to discuss with his mother when the time was right, possibly in the summer after his exams. The wheels of fate denied him that wish.
Tick Tock
It was just Kathy left in the room with him when the events of the day were concluded. She was sitting on a seat next to the bed, with tissues in her hands after more tears were shed telling him about what happened those years before. Of her own shame. He did not feel ashamed of her at all, nor of Ronan for leaving her in that position. It was wrong what he'd done to both Kathy and his wife, but James couldn't fault him for trying to mend things with the woman he'd married rather than sacrifice it all for Kathy, who was far younger than he was. Life would have been difficult if he'd done so… he would have been a pariah.
There are times in life when choices are presented to someone, none of them being easy choices, but the person still has to choose one anyway. James believed in that; he could not hold a grudge against his biological father because of it.
And his Erin was with him through it all too. She was the rock that evening, a warm presence nestled into his side, to hug and hold him as he was swept away in a wave of such unexpected knowledge. His perception that he couldn't love her any more than he already did, was shattered for what must have been the one hundredth time. She was the one.
"I… I know…". Kathy struggled to speak again after allowing him a couple of minutes of reflection. "… I know we've never t-t… t-talked about your father. I wasn't goin' to hide from it forever y-ye know love".
"Mum…". James's voice didn't waver, instead being one of reassurance. "… I think you're the bravest woman in the world for doing what you did".
Kathy was lost in a sea of joyful tears at her son's words. At the time, had she stayed and gave birth to James in Derry, they'd be looked down upon in the street… cast adrift by the society of the day. Deirdre would have supported her the best she could, but whether their parents would have offered the same treatment was questionable.
"James…".
Erin ceded her position at his side to allow Kathy to smother her boy completely, instead running her hand over Kathy's back to provide some comfort. Tears trickled tentatively from Erin's eyes too at the scene of her wee English fella sharing an important moment with his mother.
"I…". James stuttered, regaining his composure as Kathy pulled away. "… I don't think I can be angry with him…".
Erin was back cuddled into him an instant, and they both looked to Kathy.
"Ye know love…". Kathy sniffed. "… I've often thought I should have held resentment against Ronan for abandoning me… but I knew the risks when we started seeing each other. His wife is a lovely woman, I… I always wanted to tell ye when I thought they would be able to handle it. I nearly destroyed Ronan's life once, I'd never want too again…".
"I've never been ready to face it mum". James admitted to her. "I guess I've grown to accept that the women in my life were always the ones to be there when I needed them".
Kathy smiled at his comment, the smile widening further as she watched him touch noses with Erin and give her a peck on the lips. It was so tender and sweet between the two, the very love Kathy herself had barely been exposed to across her years.
"It's been a lot to take in". He sighed, with a smile forming after he spoke. "Thank you… both of you… for being with me".
Kathy didn't attempt to squeeze onto the bed to cuddle him, but she held out her hand, James placing his left hand in her right. Erin squeezed him a little tighter too. He was receiving all the love possible from two of the most important people in his life, making the bombshells of the evening fade away.
Love would always defeat hate, no matter how hard hate tried.
"Where are Joe and Orla by the way?"
Whilst the family went off to explain the chaotic events of the day to James, Orla was off on a mission of her own, with only Granda Joe for company. As James was about to find out who he really was, Orla's journey was to thank someone for ensuring that she'd remained who she was.
Antony Scanlon.
After a morning of being scared so thoroughly by Moira, breaking rules to try to stop her from hurting James, Orla's original wish was to rest that evening. But as the rest of the family discussed his news, Joe took her to one side at home to remind her of a long-forgotten memory. Her memories of the day that she nearly drowned in the Foyle were patchy, remembering that she'd spent some time in Hospital, but unable to recall much else. However, she knew some of the cops were given awards for saving her life on that day. Joe revealing that it was all a deception, even to him, created a multitude of feelings for Orla.
Shock was the first one. She was shocked that not only her, but Granda Joe, were lied to for over ten years by Sarah.
Confusion was the second one. Orla couldn't understand the need for the lies. There was a constant theme of distrust towards the Scanlon's, but if Antony saved her life, why didn't that change it?
The final feeling was one of thankfulness. She was thankful that he'd risked her life for her that day when he was a complete stranger to her at the time. It was that feeling that influenced her decision to ask her Granda to take her to the Scanlon house that night.
"Ye ready love?" Joe asked her as they were sat in the car across the road from the Scanlon's.
"I am Granda". She confirmed with a nod and a wide grin.
"Do ye want me to come in with ye?"
"No…". Orla turned to look at him. "…I want to go on me own please Granda".
"That's alright love. I'll wait here for ye".
She leaned over to give her Granda a quick hug, before exiting the car and walking up the drive to the Scanlon's door. It wasn't particularly cold out, but it was dark by the time they got there, streetlights having flickered on.
It took a minute for Antony to come to the door once she'd knocked it. For a brief second, she thought that they'd perhaps gone out, and was relieved to hear the shuffling of feet from inside, followed by the figure on the other side of the glass.
A fly on the wall could be forgiven for thinking Antony had been hit by a thousand volts of electricity when he opened the door. His breath caught as he saw Orla McCool stood there.
"Hello". Orla addressed him with the most radiant of smiles.
"Or… Orla". His voice crackled as he said her name.
"Aye… that's right. Ye might have seen me on the TV".
The two of them chuckled together at her comment about Orla's various press appearances. She was living the dream, with another interview scheduled with an American magazine the following lunchtime at school thanks to Michelle's ace planning. Trying to avoid Orla was difficult. She was everywhere.
"That's true". Antony smiled. "Can I give ye a hug?"
She didn't answer him, opting to put her arms around him in an instant. He held her tightly… like he had done the day he saved her from the currents of the Foyle.
"Thank ye… for saving me". She whispered to him as they faced each other again after pulling apart.
"It was nothin'". He replied, lips etching up into another smile.
"Ye didn't have to. And I couldn't be where I am without ye".
Antony couldn't help but let a tear escape his right eye, running down his face to drip onto the mat outside the front door. He'd made so many poor decisions in his near thirty years on the planet, but without a doubt the one to save Orla McCool that day was the greatest one he'd ever made.
"I… I'm so proud of ye, ye know". Antony told her. "The way ye rode that Grand National… aggressive and ferocious, without any fear… it was tough, but beautiful".
"It wasn't hard enough actually". Orla continued to tell everyone she thought it was too easy.
"Not hard enough?" Antony guffawed at the comment. "I doubt those boys behind ye were sayin' that".
"Ach, I couldn't hear them". Orla flickered a mischievous grin. "I was too far in front".
They were giggling like old friends on the doorstep of the Scanlon house, which in many ways they were. The candle of friendship that should have existed between them after the events of years before, finally was lit that night. It didn't matter that his brothers were who they were, or what they'd done and were going to do to James. Strong friendships could withstand the most rigorous storms, to come out sailing into better waters on the other side.
Antony, and in time his mother too if she wanted, were firm friends.
It was half past eleven, and consequently, another late night for Erin. The family stayed with James for hours as he came to terms with the newly acquired knowledge of who he was, and why he was attacked for it. Everyone was supportive towards him, Michelle not throwing a single insult his way all night, and when he teared up slightly, the girls were all cuddled up around him. Orla too.
When she arrived at the Hospital with Joe, she revealed the details of her conversation with Antony, and the good that had come of it. James was delighted to hear that Antony was so proud of Orla's achievements. He was a man who'd had to experience being the worst person that he could be to realise his life could be a peaceful one, and after years of violence and criminality, it was his one good act in that time that he would be living the rest of his life by. His mother, who'd be worn down by the grief of having her other two sons planning to commit such an atrocious act, wouldn't be judged by them for Danny and Brian. She was judged by her Antony to them. Her Antony that risked his own life to be able to ensure Orla kept hers. In their band of family and friends, the two of them would fit in as if they'd been there for years.
Clare's parents arrived too, a little while later, James getting a rare chance to talk to her dad, who was hardly ever about. Sean was a very busy man in order to provide for his family, but he'd made the time to come to chat with James, an act of kindness that the Englishman was grateful for. They'd left first that night, with everyone else following on shortly behind them. He'd enjoyed another long hug with his mother ahead of her departure with Deirdre, Martin and Michelle. For the first time that he would admit to himself, he couldn't be happier than to be the son of Kathy Maguire. With the riddle of the start of his life finally solved, his appreciation for what she'd been through increased tenfold.
With the family gone, there was only his Erin left, barring the young officer Collins, who was doing the night shift that night. Erin was safely tucked up next to him, playing with the curls of his hair as he ran his hand along her arm. They were in total serenity in the Hospital room.
"Yer so brave". She muttered into his side. "Yer ma too".
"It's taken me nearly eighteen years to understand how hard it must have been at the time. I'm glad I've realised it".
"I can't imagine what ye were like as a baby". She snorted, getting him giggling in return. "Probably no different to now…".
His mouth dropped open in feigned offence as she laughed at him, with her lips covered by his a second later as he pulled her inexplicably deeper into his side.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you at school today". He changed the topic entirely, to a much more sombre tone.
Erin remembered her thoughts from earlier on that day. When she'd panicked then, she looked for James's support, but couldn't receive it. It wasn't his fault though; the very reason she was panicking, was one of the reasons he couldn't be in school. Moira.
"You'll be there soon enough…". She uttered as she played with his curls once more. "… with me at yer side, holding yer hand".
"Carrying my bag if I'm still on those". He flicked his head over to the crutches.
"Yes sir Mr Wooster". She joked back to him.
He produced a gargantuan snort at her cheeky jibe.
"Jeeves has never looked so sexy".
Those words really set the pair alight, and their hands were roaming around each other as their mouths connected, tongues gently sparring within. Erin was rolling onto him as they kissed, despite fighting not to do so in case she hurt his still recovering body. Their hands were becoming a real problem though, and both were invading spaces that they shouldn't have done in the confines of the Altnagelvin. Not that either of them were keen to stop, mind.
"We can't go that far". He mumbled onto her lips.
"I know…". Her voice was breathy… extremely breathy…. "… but I so want to…".
"Don't…". He was sighing into her mouth almost. "We'd need… you know…".
They thought they were so good at their little games, keeping their desires hidden between themselves, but what they failed to realise was how loud they were being. Something they were reminded of.
"That's not the sort of protection I'm offerrin'".
Officer Collins' quip filtered in from the other side of the door, Erin's eyes widening as they were locked with James's. She watched him struggle to hold his laughter at Collins' comment, with the officer himself finding it very difficult to not burst out into a fit. Astounded by the perceived insolence of the man, Erin went to give him a piece of her mind, but James stopped her by pulling her in for another kiss. A kiss that sucked the vicious words ready to be fired at the young RUC man out from the back of her throat, consumed by the love of her wee English fella.
"We're safe now…".
James softly whispered those words into her ear as the pair of them drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms.
Of course they were safe…
Of course…
Right…
