Chapter 30: The Last Flight of The Condor 4th April 1996
After the momentously eventful day before, the final day ahead of the Easter break was quiet at Our Lady Immaculate College. The girls were able to coast through, barring the interview Orla sat through with the American magazine that lunchtime, which was tedious even by her standards. They weren't too interested in discussing her sporting achievement, instead trying to obtain her feelings on how it could be viewed in a wider context, something which in turn disinterested her. They'd all been in to see Sister Michael that morning to pass on their heartful gratitude for her belief in Orla's innocence when it came to Moira, even if she technically wasn't innocent at all. The Sister was always going to take their side when Moira tried to convince her that Orla would use such foul language. The young McCool would never say words like that and wouldn't be dismissive of people either. She had time for everyone, a lie too far from Moira when it came to the head mistress. The rest of their school day went by without incident, and they went straight to the Hospital when they'd finished, Erin ready for her final night sleeping there before coming home with James for good. His leg would still need time to heal, but the very worst of the ordeal was over.
"It will be weird…". Erin said to the girls as they walked up the stairs to the top floor. "… I've gotten used to comin' here".
"It'll be fuckin' great. No more fuckin' about with the bus and I can get straight home to answer the phone…". Michelle listed all the positives… for her.
"And to have James back in school". Clare added, Erin smiling at her for doing so.
Orla stayed quiet as they continued to discuss the positives of not having to go to the Hospital. She was in a little world of her own, having allowed herself to have a bag of sweets for the first time in ages. With no rides until Sunday, she could afford to live a little that night. She would need to keep an obsessive eye on her weight when it came to riding as a professional, but Paul was already helping in that regard, recommending a doctor who specialised in nutrition. Though when she'd mentioned the doctor at home, Mary took it to mean one who would inject her with performance enhancers, immediately warning against it. For once though, she wasn't going to be listening to her Aunt Mary.
"Yer quiet Orla?" Clare put a hand on her elbow, a thin smile across her lips. "Is everything ok?"
"Aye. I was just thinkin' about somethin' that's all…". She replied, voice trailing off.
"What is it Orla?" Erin asked her cousin.
"Well, ye remember that wee Kamal fella?"
None of the other three said it aloud, but all were thinking the same thing. Oh Christ…
"Aye…".
"Does he like coco pops?"
It was going to be one of those Orla conversations and they knew it. Seeing as she'd decided to ask Orla what it was about, the natural run of things dictated that Erin finish the conversation she'd pushed for.
"I don't know Orla, I'm not sure they have coco pops in Africa".
"Ach how do they live?"
"Quite poorly I reckon". Erin reasoned.
"They don't have much". Clare backed the opinion up. "Ye know… hence why I was tryin' to raise money for him".
"I don't know much about Africa". Orla admitted to them.
"Neither do I…". Michelle commented. "Ye should ask Toto".
"No Michelle d-".
It was too late for Erin to stop the inevitable question when it came to that song and that group. Orla was only ever going to respond in one way.
"Why would I ask a dog?"
Michelle started laughing at Erin's predicament as the lead in the conversation, humming away the tune of Toto, the group's, famous song. Erin and Clare soon joined in with the humming, leaving Orla to wonder what was going on as they reached the ward James was on. A ward which was surprisingly empty, with only two other rooms occupied apart from James'. Deirdre suddenly appeared out of the staff room on that floor, heading straight for them with her arms folded.
"This can't be good". Clare muttered.
"What's the craic ma?" Michelle addressed her mother.
"I can't believe you sometimes Michelle!" She scolded her. "Givin out the Hospital staff room number to a trainer!"
"If ye get me one of those fancy mobile phones then I wouldn't have to". She argued.
"Catch yourself on! Now go an' answer the phone before ye lose Orla a ride".
Michelle hurried off into the staff room to take the call, with Deirdre shaking her head as she watched. She couldn't stay with the girls, having to get back to her shift, though took the time to make sure that they were all alright, as well as letting them know that James already had two visitors. Erin was expecting it to be her Granda and James's mother Kathy again, but they weren't the two that the girls found upon getting to the room.
Harriet was not an entirely unexpected presence, with the girls being delighted to see her. She'd been unable to make it to the Grand National to see Orla, watching on from the German Ambassador's home with pride instead. She was just as equally proud as the rest of them though.
"My hero". She said to Orla as she hugged her, a tear in Harriet's eye.
"Ach, thank ye Harriet". Orla rubbed her back as they hugged.
Clare and Erin shared hugs with their friend from England too, James watching on with fond affection as they all came together. He was surprised by her presence earlier that afternoon, not expecting anyone else to visit before the girls, having been visited by his mother and the Detective Inspector earlier in the day. The round the clock guarding would cease the following morning, with Officer Collins taking over at eight that night to do the final shift until six o'clock on Good Friday morning. The Inspector's visit was mostly to reassure James that the threat to him was far lower with Moira in custody, though they had one final person of interest to still track down. From Danny's confession though, the Inspector didn't believe that this man would set out to harm James, only leaving Collins in the very unlikely case that he did. It was good training for the young officer too.
Orla and Clare both smiled at the other guest in that room, whom Erin didn't recognise, looking to them all for some sort of hint as to who he was. She wouldn't though, with James and Harriet only finding out earlier on, Harriet having brought him up with her after meeting him in the reception, after finding him asking the staff where James's room was.
Tom.
With Orla's win and the story of James's involvement in the ownership of the horse being broadcast far and wide, it was easy for him to work out where to try and track Michelle down to. If he could find James, then he could find Michelle. He'd spoken on the phone with her a couple of times that week, though the second time she couldn't talk for long because of one reason or another. He thought he'd surprise her, bringing flowers with him like a gentleman. Spending the afternoon with James, the two did exactly what Michelle feared they would do and built up a splendid rapport with one and another.
"You must be Erin". Tom said to her. "I'm Tom, I…".
"She's Michelle English ride". Orla clarified, though Erin worked it out once he'd said his name.
"Ride?"
He looked to his fellow Englishman for assistance on the language, James remembering how it felt to hear descriptions such as ride for the first time… it was rather adorable to see it happen to another countryman.
"It's a term of endearment Tom. Don't worry, I'll teach you the ropes in time".
"Right". He nodded in return. "You are a lucky man James mate, with your Erin here".
She couldn't hide her delight about being thought of as James's. She was after all, and he was hers… it was nice to be reminded of it by others every so often though.
"It'll be a nice surprise for Michelle". Clare noted.
"That was the intention". Tom chuckled.
They didn't have to wait long for Michelle to return from her phone call, hearing her long before she arrived at the door of the room, as per the standard when it came to Michelle.
"Orla, ye've got another interview Saturday mornin' at the stables and…".
She stopped upon entering the room, finding not only the unexpected presence of Harriet, but of Tom too. Her cheeks blazed pink within a split second, her knees becoming uncontrollably weak as she ran her eyes over him again. She hadn't expected her own English fella to turn up that afternoon, mortified that he would see her in her school uniform and not in her best. He looked different too, reverting to a t-shirt and jeans rather than the full suit that he'd be in at the racecourse. It made him even more desirable…
"Oh… Tom".
The words came out a lot more shyly than intended, with James and Erin both only just able to hold their laughter at the very different Michelle. Whenever lads were involved, she was usually ultra-confident, but it was undeniably clear to the pair of them that Clare's comment a few days before about Michelle really liking Tom was true. The cute, vulnerable Michelle Mallon showed with Tom, her lesser shown side blazing like the sun.
"Michelle". The look he gave her was one of total adoration. "These are for you".
Michelle's heart skipped a million beats as he handed the bouquet of roses across to her, her cheeks as red as the flowers themselves.
"I remember another English fella who gave a girl some roses". Erin whispered into James's ear, reminding him of Valentine's morning.
Well some of that morning…
"Thank ye". Michelle eventually spluttered out.
The rest of them were expecting her to leap up to snog the face off of him at that moment. What none of them quite realised was the inner romantic within Michelle, who wished to find a much quieter spot to show her affections. Taking Tom by the hand, she led him out of the room, with Orla watching as they went into the staff room. She nodded to Deirdre, who'd spotted it from down the corridor where she was seeing to another patient on the ward. She'd be finding an excuse to get along to that staff room within the next few minutes. She wouldn't be having any funny business in there!
With her safely up the corridor, out of earshot, James and Erin could finally burst out into fits of giggles and guffaws. The rest were soon joining in, except from Orla who was distracted by a bird flying past the window and out towards the countryside.
"Oh Tom…". James couldn't help but mock his cousin.
"They're eejits". Erin sniggered.
"It reminds me of another couple".
Harriet alluded to the two of them, with Clare voicing her support for the comment a second later. Despite mocking Michelle for it, both James and Erin were extremely happy for her to have found someone that made her feel that way. After the vile game that Danny Scanlon had played with her emotions, it was rewarding to know that it wasn't affecting her in the long term. It was even aiding her, if anything.
Michelle Mallon, jockey's agent to the legendary Orla McCool, was in love.
With Deirdre having chased them out of the staff room after five minutes of intense kissing, Michelle and Tom were sent back to the room packing. The poor RUC man on the door that afternoon must have wondered whether his job was really worth it, spending every five minutes getting out of the way of a pair of young lovers.
He drew the short straw that afternoon, and it wasn't until his shift ended, and Officer Collins took over, that the room was down to just James and Erin.
Having managed to convince her mother, a remarkable act given their hostility after the flashing incident, Tom was put up for the night at the Mallon house, though he would be on the sofa rather than in Michelle's bed. She might have wanted him there, but that would have to be for another day, very much aware it would be a request too far to ask if he could stay in her room that night. They were the first to leave, as Deirdre's shift ended at six, just as Martin arrived to take them all home, Clare getting a lift back too. Harriet once again had a driver arranged for by her father, taking her leave of them shortly after in order to get to Jenny's house on time for dinner. She, like Gerry, had completed her own favour for James, handing him the requested items before the girls turned up that afternoon.
Tick Tock
Mary and Gerry arrived just as Harriet was leaving, Joe and Sarah in tow too. They exchanged pleasantries with the beautiful young English girl before she left, reaching James's room to find only Orla with the couple. It was Maundy Thursday, and there was a mass at seven o'clock that night, one which Orla was yet to miss without fail in all of her years.
"Thanks for comin' to get me Uncle Gerry". She'd said to him once they'd arrived.
"Ach no bother love…". He smiled. "… it's my pleasure".
"It'd be my pleasure to shove ye out the window…". Joe had grumbled quietly about him from where he was stood behind.
"She never misses a Maundy Thursday mass our Orla". Sarah commented.
"Why not?" A confused James had sought the reasoning from Orla herself.
"Ach well… ye know James… I just like havin' me feet washed ye know. It tickles when the priest does it…".
Tick Tock
Gerry soon led the rest of the family out to get to mass on time, he himself seemingly in a perpetual state of eye rolling at every comment made that night. James tried to sympathise the best he could; it was fiercely hard work being Gerry Quinn.
"One more night…".
James sighed as he stroked Erin's arm with his hand, her now casually dressed figure nestled back into his side once more. He'd been sick of Hospitals and blaring machines in the not even two weeks that he'd been alert since waking. He'd never tire of having Erin by his side though, that being a gift from the good Lord himself, having her with him constantly. The clock ticked over to twenty to nine.
"Tomorrow night ye'll be in my bed". She whispered to him, fluttering her eyelashes.
"Really?" He smirked wickedly. "You seem so sure…".
"I said to Mammy that I wouldn't sleep in my bed again until you were in it with me. And I would quite like to sleep in my bed again…".
"I hope you aren't planning on any funny business Miss Quinn". He teased her.
"Wouldn't dream of it".
The two of them were soon engaged in a fierce combat at the lips, feeling the warmth of their own grins through their contact. Every time they met like that, managed to feel as if it were a new experience, a first time rather than a thirty first time.
That was love.
Pure love.
Love that always conquered hatred.
Yet every victory came at a cost. The scars of hate could heal in time, but they'd always start as just that. Scars.
Hate still held one final hand. It's royal flush…
They were pulled apart on the sound of it making its move, through the two gunshots that rang out in the distance, off at the other end of the mostly empty ward.
"MAGUIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Fear.
All around the ward, whether it was a patient, a member of staff or a young RUC officer, they were all immediately in fear.
The gunshots echoed around the mostly empty recovery ward, from the doors at the main entrance all the way to the end of the corridor where James's room was.
Collins edged back into the room, finding the two youngsters looking up at him. There was a definite look of fear in Erin's eyes, the crystallisation of a torrent of impending tears apparent in her irises. James, harder to read emotionally, seemed frozen stuck on the bed.
It was him again. Someone was coming for him.
"Take this".
Officer Collins threw him an object, which James caught just in front of his face.
"It's a key to this room". The Officer explained. "Lock the door behind me, don't let anyone in".
"But… yer meant to protect him!" Erin scolded the RUC man at a whisper.
"And we're sittin' ducks here. I'll draw them away and ye wait here until my colleagues arrive. Understood?"
Erin wanted to rip him apart for leaving them, but James's hand on her back stopped her. Officer Collins radioed in the reports of gunshots whilst he was still in the room, calling for everything they could muster, confirming the threat was to James. The Detective Inspector was to be informed immediately and would no doubt rush to the scene.
"Ye might want to get under the bed where he can't see ye through the glass". The young Officer sensibly suggested.
Collins shared a knowing look with James. It was the sort of look of appreciation shared between two men who were both extremely fearful of what was to come next. Collins wasn't that many years older than them and had little experience of dealing with the situation they were facing.
Drawing his sidearm, Collins gave the Englishman a final nod before heading out to face whatever awaited him at the other end of the ward. It was a large, desolated ward, with the entrance being around the corner to the right, beyond the large centre desk area. There was the side entrance to the corridor, but it came with no guarantee that more assailants could be waiting for him there, unable to send the kids to safety down it either. He would have to face whoever it was head on.
The adrenaline of the situation kicked in, the young officer trying to regulate his breathing as he crept up the corridor to the centre desk. He glanced into the empty rooms, the other patients on the ward being treated in rooms nearer to the entrance though, still constantly keeping vigil for any surprises. One of the lights flickered above the central area, the nervous Collins pointing his sidearm at it as if it were about to shoot him. The central area was circular, with desks that stretched around, only missing meeting due to the gaps where the entrances were. To his left was an empty room that would usually fit four patients, that instead was filled with empty beds. It was the same to his right, with the final option being straight ahead around the desks. That corridor continued along until taking an abrupt turn to the right where the main entrance and front desk sat, and where the sound of the gunshots originated from.
The silence deafened him.
He could hear nothing, not even the screams of anyone who might have been witnessing the events unfold. There was just nothing.
Convinced that the two rooms to the sides were clear, Collins pushed on down the corridor. His heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour, terrified of what he might find when he got there. There could be one person or multiple that he would have to face, with his colleagues still being minutes away from getting to the scene.
It was just him against whatever appeared.
The correct ward.
The correct approach.
But where the fuck was James Maguire?
The nurse on the front desk refused to tell him.
She couldn't possibly divulge that information to a man that she'd never seen before, especially with James being under Police guard. She'd lose her job for it.
Not answering him would nearly cost her more though. Her life.
She was on the floor seconds later, having been struck around the back of the head with the butt of the pistol. Nobody else saw the attack on the quiet ward, which left the poor nurse unconscious behind the front desk, with no one to assist her. That left him with another problem though.
There was still no one around. No one to ask where James was.
A foolish man would panic and charge off around the ward to find him. That would arouse suspicions… and no doubt would arouse the suspicions of the cop long before he could find James. Whatever happened, the cop would have to be put out of the way first. If being led to him by a nurse and shooting the cop at point blank range wasn't going to do it, then luring the cop out would. After all, it could help pinpoint the local of the Englishman as an additional reward.
Not being the foolish man, he moved to that plan.
The ceiling soon found itself bearing the marks of two bullet holes, the man having raised the weapon above his head to fire into it.
"MAGUIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Finding a perfect spot of cover behind the desk, he was able to peer out to see down to the corner at the bottom, giving him the perfect overview of anyone who may arrive. There were no screams after the gunshots, only the quiet gasps of two people in a room further down the way.
He simply sat there in wait.
The gun shots might have attracted people's attention, in turn summoning the cops to the scene, but he wasn't worried about them. He'd been in far worse scrapes and came out without a scratch. That night would be no different. The Condor would fly again.
He could hear the RUC man coming.
The first thing he noted was the heavy breathing… the fear…
The Condor knew he scared the life out of the RUC. Whenever he turned up, they would retreat away from him in fear. It had been like that since the early days in the Bogside; they didn't dare attempt to apprehend The Condor… ever. Yet times had changed, and the RUC were coming for him this time, finally chancing their luck with one of the biggest thorns in their side.
He was ready for the RUC man, hand already over the trigger.
Collins rounded the corner, his head glancing in every direction in order to try to find the source of the gunshots. But a young inexperienced officer who didn't know The Condor would never be able to get him with a lucky arrest. A seasoned veteran would struggle.
As Collins looked back towards the main entrance, the man stood up and fired, the bullet striking the Officer cleanly in the forehead, throwing him backwards. His plan to lure the man away was over. He was dead before he reached the floor, where he was thrown back towards the windows by the corner upon impact.
"MAGUIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
"SHOW YOURSELF YE COWARD".
"YER WEE COP FRIEND CAN'T SAVE YE NOW!"
"MAGUIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Watching Collins move off up the corridor before locking the door, Erin wrapped herself around James in fear, the moment she returned to the bed. She was ignoring the instruction to get under it, wanting instead to feel the warmth of her wee English fella. It would be difficult to get James underneath too with his broken leg, but he seemed to be in no hurry to do so, wanting his Erin too.
They'd thought it was all over.
But the pantomime show that was living in troubles Ireland rolled on.
Oh no it wasn't…
They stayed in each other arms as her first tears fell, splashing onto the exposed skin of his left arm. Her shaking was the hardest for James, berating himself for allowing Erin to be scared while she was under his protection. She would never be scared in his company again.
Then came the third gunshot.
James didn't need to be able to see the scenes of further up the corridor to know what had happened. Collins was a young officer who'd no doubt charged in over his head to try to stop the threat… the latest threat to James. Somebody was out baying for his blood again, with the list of suspects once again extending to any man in Derry who owned a gun. Except from Joe, as that certainly wasn't Joe's voice.
"MAGUIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Erin gasped in horror. Unlike James, she hadn't jumped to the immediate conclusion of Collins' demise, hoping that he would have removed the threat to her wee English fella. But the second shout of James' surname showed that it was not to be.
"SHOW YOURSELF YE COWARD".
"YER WEE COP FRIEND CAN'T SAVE YE NOW!"
A sob was ripped from her as the very fate James suspected was confirmed. Collins might have tried, but it wasn't enough for them that night. The danger was still out there, a danger that was unavoidable now that their only chance to defeat it was gone. She never envisaged being murdered in a Hospital as her way to go. Her imagination always pointed to a heroic way out or a peaceful slip into the next life in a cosy armchair of a front room. There was little heroism to be found in having your brains painted onto the walls of the Altnagelvin like a Picasso masterpiece.
"MAGUIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Erin was tensing again at the sound of his name being yelled down the deserted corridors of the recovery ward. But James wasn't. He only sighed. A reaction that she couldn't understand, expecting him to be gripped with a fear that they would share until whatever fate decided to do to them. It was only then she realised he'd taken the key back from her.
"James…".
NO… NO…
"Listen Erin…". He started but had to stop, the words catching in his throat.
Defiant, but terrified… that was James Maguire.
"We need to hide…James". She urged him as the tears continued to fall.
"No Erin". He stated bluntly. "You need to hide".
He wasn't going to do this to her. He couldn't. She didn't think him capable of doing it to her when they were so happy together. She wanted him to ask for her hand in marriage… she wanted the rest of her life with him… to have children when they deemed it right. They were meant to have the most perfect wedding, surrounded by their family and friends, reaching the peak of happiness in the eyes of all. But he was going to throw it all away… she couldn't take it.
"No!" She screeched. "No James… no!"
His fingers went over her lips as their foreheads drew together to touch. Erin tried to kiss him, restrain him by the mouth, but he forced his fingers back against her lips in order to keep her away. He was going to do it…
"Erin…". The pain in his voice slashed at her heart. "… I can't let you get hurt. I won't let it happen… I made promises to your parents and Joe that… that I would never see you harmed while we were together. I'm not going out as a promise breaker…".
The words wouldn't come for Erin when his voice trailed, accepting of his fate. James was accepting that he wasn't going to survive whatever was coming down the corridor that night, but he was going to make sure she did. But how could she go on without him…
Removing his hand from her lips, he moved both up to cup her face, wiping away at the never-ending tears that poured from Erin's beautiful eyes. Tears ran from his own as he saw how badly he was breaking her apart… but he had no choice this time. There were only so many miracles that a man could be granted. James Maguire's entitlement now ran dry.
"It…". Every word stabbed at his throat and his heart as he stammered away. "… it… it has been th-the greatest honour and pr-privilege to be able to love and to care for you Erin…".
"NO!" She cried, finding James shaking his head.
"You've made my life s-so… sp… spe… special". James almost wailed the words out as the egg timer of life began to turn against him.
"James please… PLEASE!"
"Shusshh, don't cry Erin…. don't cry…". He ended, swallowing incredibly hard. "… I've ignored every warning to leave… every little hint that fate has given to help me. I've ran up a bill that needs to be paid…".
Erin Quinn was dying in his arms. There were no injuries inflicted upon her through an act of violence, but instead she was dying of a heart that was cracking open from an act of love. His love was going to kill her, whether it saved her life or not.
"Lock the door behind me…".
"I won't let you!" Her internal scream came across as a whisper, her voice box allowing nothing more. "I can't… I can't go on without you".
She was clinging to him with every ounce of strength her young muscles could find, but James was taking her arms off of him after a second, crying himself. He was then pulling himself up and onto his crutches without her assistance. Her head screamed an ear-piercing screech at her to stop him, but when her body tried to respond, there was nothing. She couldn't rescue him from the fate he'd decided to follow… she could only watch as James prepared to face death.
He was moving over to the door when her body finally allowed her something, Erin grabbing at the back of his shirt to stop him, nearly bringing him down in the process.
"Stop Erin!" He commanded with his crackling voice. "You'll kill us both if you bring me down".
"I'll die with you then…". She squinted at the thought of perishing.
"Erin…". He closed his eyes saying her name… with every single time he spoke it feeling as if someone was punching him in the kidneys repeatedly… god damn did it hurt. "… I won't let you".
The key was slowly turning on the lock as she tried to grab his wrist to stop him, forgetting he was only just over breaking it. Somehow, he withstood the pain of her grabbing at it, and she withdrew immediately on seeing his extreme grimacing. Erin couldn't bear to hurt the man she loved so dearly.
"I LOVE YOU!"
A statement of undying love became the final weapon left in the emotional armoury of the young Quinn. She'd always love the fella she once witnessed piss in a bin on his first school day… who she so nearly lost to Katya… the same James that sacrificed the convention he'd been raving about for weeks in order to see her to prom… the same James that wanted to be hers… she would always love him.
James took a deep breath as the lock clicked. He turned his head back on his right side, a burning sensation running through his chest on seeing her splintered in front of him… because of him.
"Promise me one thing…". He started, having to wipe the tears out of his own eyes before continuing, watching her tremble with a raging fear at whatever he wished. "… promise me that… th-that you won't… grieve over me for long. I'm not worth it Erin… I don't want you to spend the rest of your life remembering… me".
"HOW CAN YOU ASK THAT?!" She shrieked through the sobs.
"I'm not Erin…". He insisted with a sigh. "… there are plenty of other James Maguire's out there… but there's only one Erin Quinn… and I'm not having her waste her life on the memory of me".
James didn't know if his words were hurting her more than they were him, but his own chest felt like it was being toasted over a medieval forge, having already been thrown into a smelter beforehand. Time was running out though… he couldn't stay talking to her forever, as much as he wanted to… as much as he should have been allowed to.
"In another life… another time… we might have made it…". He summarised, a summary which saw Erin clutch at her own chest.
"J… Ja… Ja…".
The words wouldn't come for the girl who adored poetry…
But they did for him…
"We were ahead of our time darling".
Pulling her up quickly for another kiss, James sobbed into her. If only he didn't have the accent, the accent that he was finally seeing as stupid that night, they could have seen the dawn of Good Friday in together. But it was not to be.
The door opened slowly, and James hobbled out on his crutches, ensuring that Erin didn't follow him out of the room. The door didn't slam, and a quick check down the corridor revealed no one to be watching presently… though he knew they were there somewhere.
The thin slither of glass in front of the door enabled him to get one final view at his beloved. She might have been broken apart, but for a second his mind pushed past that vision, to the vision of the normal, bubbly Erin Quinn. The young woman that kept a diary of her deepest thoughts… the same one who believed 'Shoes of the World' were a newsworthy item… the Erin he rescued from being a victim of her own hypocrisy on prom night… the same Erin that wanted to be his… he saw her as the angel that ruled his heart.
Their heads came to rest together, with only the thin pane of glass stopping them from touching again. He could almost feel her breath on the other side of the door, mirroring her action as he moved his hand to the glass so that they were touching through it. His life was on the other side of that door, but it was a door too far… a life he couldn't have.
"I love you…".
There was no sound, the pair mouthing the words onto the glass in unison instead. Their heads stayed there for another few moments, both staring into the glazed palaces of suffering beyond the eyelash parapets that tried to hide them.
The door lock clicked again. She was locked away from him… forever.
Clearing his eyes and taking the deepest of breaths known to man, James Maguire set off up the corridor to the central area to meet his maker.
Erin did not hide under the bed as instructed… she never made it there. Her back was against door, sinking to the floor, knees coming up to cover her face as she sobbed relentlessly into them. She would have to listen as her beloved went out to die for her.
The bastard wasn't showing easy. He was searching the side rooms of the central area, hoping to find the Englishman cowering away like others had before him. Like the night The Condor killed a young traveller from across the sea, chasing him through the woods… letting the fucker believe he'd got away before hacking him down brutally.
He didn't get his wish.
The sound of someone struggling along on crutches reached his ear, bringing an instant smile to his face. The time had come.
Walking out of the side room, he strolled over to the corridor that led to the end of the ward. His pistol was drawn up ready, though he was prepared to toy with the English bastard before sending him on his way. James looked up to see the pistol, stopping as he did. The staff room was too his left, but it would only be delaying the inevitable trying to hide in it.
"Looking for me". James opened the conversation.
"So yer the English fucker that's caused me so many fucking problems!" The man seethed at him.
"I take it you are the man the Police are looking for".
The man he'd never met smiled back at the Englishman. The Detective Inspector never gave his name, but he'd told James that it was unlikely that the man would set out to harm the Englishman. How wrong he'd been…
"They've done a fuckin' shit job". The man replied chuckling.
Nothing was said for another couple of seconds, James watching as he lowered the pistol slightly, though still leaving it pointed at the Englishman once it was lowered.
"You have caused me… so many fuckin' setbacks… you fuckin' prick".
"I'm sorry for being an inconvenience". James dryly answered in return.
"Inconvenience?" The man snorted. "Ye've never been that… ye were just never supposed to have distracted those kids".
"That's the problem when you get children to do your dirty work for you… you can't guarantee that they will get the job done".
James's bravado was admirable, unwilling to cower to the man. He was a Provo of some description, and not a young one by any means. He couldn't have been that much younger than Joe, with grey hairs in his hair and beard, wrinkles across the skin of his face.
"Moira kept the truth about ye from me… but then who would want a bastard half-brother… with that fuckin' accent too. She was right to want ye dead, even though I told her not to…".
"Told her not to?" James questioned the man. "You wanted the glory of killing a teenager for yourself".
At the barrel of a gun, James was mocking a Provo… a Provo who was ready to splatter his brains down the length of the corridor. Even he didn't know the James that was now leaning against the right-hand wall to stay on his feet.
"Ye know what kids are like for repeating things… they did their job…".
"You…". James struggled to understand. "… you wanted them to tell the cops that… that you'd told them not to hurt me?"
"Well fuckin' done!" The man teased him.
"Why? What have I done to you?"
"Apart from ruining my fuckin' plans!"
The man's rage boiled over at James, the Englishman closing his eyes in the expectation that he was about to be shot, being surprised when he was not.
"Joe".
"Joe?"
"Yes Joe… Joe McCool!". The man confirmed. "Has he never told ye about me? I am disappointed...".
"He's a far better man than you". James commented sincerely.
"Joe a better man than me?" The man stopped to laugh at the frankly ridiculous comment. "Ye know nothin' about him then".
"I know that he is one of the most honourable men that this world has ever seen".
He'd came out to defend Erin, but James had no qualms when it came to defending her Granda either. At a time when he didn't realise that he needed a friend, Joe stood up to be his mentor, guiding James and finding him worthy of caring for Erin. He'd learned more about the working world from Joe in a few weeks than he'd learned from any other man in the rest of his life. To have this man disrespect him, angered the Englishman.
"Joe was nearly one of us ye know…". The man explained. "… aye I remember how close he'd come to commitin' to the cause. But he chose his family over the future of his country… a selfish choice because he didn't have the guts to go through with anything. Bastard".
"He made the sensible choice". James reasoned. "He chose to be a hero to those he shared love with, not those he shared hatred with".
"Hatred? It's deserved for you English bastards and yer fuckin' politicians with their honeyed words! One night, a few nights after Joe made his choice, I was gunna burn their fuckin' house down… kill em fuckin' all… but I changed my mind".
"Didn't have the guts?" James trod a dangerous line.
"Fuck you English". He raised the pistol momentarily, James cacking it before it was lowered again. "No, I gave Joe a chance, one that I've always regretted… but then when I found out yer fuckin' his granddaughter… I had a shot a redemption".
James was stunned once more. There was yet another reason why someone wanted him dead… another reason why he shouldn't be in Derry. He never thought there could truly be any more. But there was.
"Killing me won't hurt him". James lied, knowing that it very much would.
"Perhaps not…". The man grinned. "… but breaking his granddaughter's heart… and finding out that it was The Condor who was responsible… it would finish him!"
"The Condor?" James snickered slightly at the nickname. "How fearsome…".
"They do say laughin' in the face of death helps". The man was amused by James trying to get to him.
James continued to laugh, guffawing in the presence of The Condor… the supposedly nasty Provo who was named after a big bird. Neither had mentioned them, but the sirens from the Police cars outside set an accompanying rhythm to their conversation. Both knew the cops wouldn't just charge in, and that James could never buy enough time to escape his grasp.
"It does surprise me that Joe would let an English have his granddaughter… Erin is it?"
"Yes…". James grumbled at the man's audacity to say her name.
"Ach ye didn't like that did ye!" The man picked up on it immediately. "She's an Irish girl… not to be messed about with by a limpdick English fuck like you!"
"She's the most beautiful girl in the world and I love her!"
"She's a fuckin' slag…".
"YOU WILL RESPECT HER!"
James was hoarse with rage, bellowing across the short distance that separated him from The Condor. He didn't stand for it with Moira in the classroom that January, and he wouldn't stand for it from this man either, regardless of the pistol pointed at him. Nobody ever said a bad word about Erin… EVER!
"Save yer shoutin'… she'll understand ye no good when yer six feet under". He cruelly taunted James.
"You won't harm her?" He enquired.
"Is that what you've come out here to ask me for?" He was mocked again. "Ye stopped cowerin' to come and beg for her life instead of yers… what a fuckin' gentleman… and ye know what… I will because a broken heart is far worse than death itself".
The extended chortling of the man set a fierce rage inside James. If he wasn't handicapped by the crutches and the broken leg, he'd have charged the man whilst he was distracted, with every intention to beat him to a bloody pulp. Whilst he still drew breath, no man or woman would be safe form his ire if they ever dared to even wish to inflict pain upon his Erin. He would not put up with it.
The air around them changed then, changing the stance of The Condor. The pistol was raised again, and this time it stayed in place ready, his hand over the trigger. James was at least going down fighting, not quite in a blaze of glory, but it was the best he could do in a bad situation. He could at least die contented…
"This has been fun James Maguire…". The man's tone returned to a serious one, instead of a mocking one. "… but we're out of time… The Condor needs to take flight".
With one last acted of bravado, James burst out into a final fit of giggles and laughter. He still didn't recognise the James that was coming from within, but he could only think that it was the final iteration of James Maguire. The combination of the normal, reserved James and the gallant knight who saved Erin's prom night, finding a room in her heart in the process… a heart sized room.
"What are ye fuckin' laughin about boy?" The Condor was angered by him.
"Well…". James could barely stop his amusement. "… I've grown up without knowing my father… been left in a city where I'm hated, completely against my wishes… disowned by my own mother for a time and then nearly murdered by my half-sister. And now I'm about to be killed by a man nicknamed after a bird… I've just got no luck, have I?"
The man's snort hinted at how hilarious he found the melancholic backdrop that was James's life story. A life story he was about to put to a definitive end.
The pistol was ready, and The Condor's finger was about to squeeze the trigger.
James had often thought it was a cliché that your life would flash in front of your eyes before you died, but in death he could confirm it did. There were glimpses of good times and bad, finishing on the angelic vision that he was about to leave behind on Planet Earth.
Erin Josephine Quinn.
BANG
Erin didn't listen in to the conversation between her James and the mystery attacker as she thought she would… other than the odd snippet, such as James's demand for the man to respect her. Her wee English fella was going to die as the bravest man ever, yet all the valour and chivalry in the world would never mend her broken heart.
She was still up against the locked door when it came.
The storm of gunfire that made her scream.
She didn't wish to count the shots… not that she could anyway. Her mind only pictured James and it also told her to disobey his orders to stay in the room until it was safe. No, it was her heart that did that…
In a tearful rush, she was unlocking the door, fumbling with the key until it finally unlocked the door to his Hospital room. Rushing out, she found multiple guns being pointed at her from a distance.
"ARMED POLICE! DOWN NOW!"
"STAY DOWN!"
She jumped straight to the floor to put her hands on her head, and it was only then that she saw the dreaded scene. The one that, deep down, she knew to expect.
There were two bodies lying further up the corridor between her and the advancing armed Policemen. The lights on the corridor were still on, guiding her to the trails of blood that ran away from the bodies that were side by side.
James was on his back, crutches at his side… still.
He had done as he said he would.
He had died so that she could live.
But she couldn't think about living in that moment.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"JAMESSSSSSSSSSSSSS… JAMESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS…. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Erin Quinn was broken.
