Hangover 15th February 1996
Ow
Owwww
Owwwwwwwwwww!
CHRIST!
Michelle's head was absolutely pounding. Her eyes refused to open, so she stayed in what she assumed was her bed and placed a hand over her forehead. The pain was excruciating, worse than any hangover she had previously, and she wasn't exactly short on occasions where she woke up hanging. Managing to flutter her eyelashes enough to allow the thinnest beams of light to penetrate her eyelids, it was reassuring to confirm she was at least in her room although it became clear she was on the floor and not the bed. A shooting pain ran up her back from where she'd slept on the hard floor all night. The carpet made her skin itch, and she noted the red rash on her arm from where the carpet burnt her skin.
Trying to think about what had happened the night before, Michelle drew a blank but noticing her fully clothed state, it was clear nothing of a sexual nature had taken place between her and Danny. Him being nowhere to be seen when her eyes fully opened added to her suspicion that she'd just passed out and that was it.
The door suddenly flew open and smacked her right on the arse and she croaked a yelp as it caused another shooting pain in her back.
"Morning!" James shouted at her.
She wanted to kill him. And not for being English for once, though that didn't help. James barely ever came to her room and when he did, he would always knock or announce his presence. Kicking, she assumed, the door open and shouting at her was a new experience. Then again, after losing his virginity the day before, Michelle considered in her head for a brief second that maybe he would be like this now. Overconfident like her.
"You fuckin'-"
"What? You do that to me all the time".
"Not when you've been fuckin' steamin from a night drinking". She moaned, throwing a cushion at him.
"Well". He sniggered as he caught it. "That's because you've usually been drinking too and get into a worse state than I do".
She wanted to kill him again because he was spot on. Whenever they drank as a group, she would be the one so far out of it that she'd pass out somewhere. Even when James had a few too many, he would never properly pass out.
"How much of last night do you remember?" He flashed her a cheeky grin.
That was a frightening question for Michelle. She could barely move from her cold and uninviting spot on the floor and the last thing she wished to do was rack her brains to remember the night. On a brief inspection of her head, she found herself not remembering a lot at all. There was the bit before the party when her mother had completely dismissed her and not even said hello to Danny. She would be talking to her about that later on! There were the various partygoers arriving and she knew she'd spoken to Jenny and Aisling for a while in the hallway when they arrived. Michelle was glad their parents gave them the permission to attend the party and repay the favour owed from what they'd done for Orla earlier in the day. Wait, shit Jenny and Aisling…
"I'll take that as not much".
"Fuck!" Michelle shot up with a start, regretting the choice when the feeling of being hit in the head with an axe came with it. "Fuck that hurts!"
James dropped the overconfident act and reverted back to his caring soul, offering his cousin a hand to get her up from the floor, his other hand resting on her back as she winced whilst getting up to stand. She brushed him off with a dark look a second later but inside, Michelle was relieved he was there to help because she'd have fell straight back down otherwise.
"James". Michelle became very serious. "What the fuck happened with Jenny and Aisling?"
"Ah… yeah…"
The night before….
The party was absolutely rocking. Michelle's role as host had relaxed somewhat when everyone had arrived, and she could kick back a bit and start to get absolutely leathered. Doing shots with Danny in the kitchen was first on the agenda and they held hands as they polished off a row of them each. Finishing the last one, she spotted Jenny and Aisling walking into the kitchen and beckoned them over to her and Danny.
"Girls, this is my fella Danny. Danny, Jenny and Aisling".
"Nice to meet ye girls". The slightly tipsy Danny replied.
"Likewise". Jenny beamed. "This is a great little party Michelle, you've done a brilliant job with it".
"Thanks Jenny, I-"
"Michelle! Michelle!"
Clare's hyperventilating, fretting tone blasted into her ears over the sound of the music and looking down, Michelle found the small blonde in a frantic state. For one night Michelle had hoped she'd just relax, but it was not to be.
"What is it Clare?" She emphasised the annoyance in her reply.
"Orla's trying toboggan again on the stairs with that fat fella! I can't stop her!"
Orla messing about on the stairs had been a problem all night, stemming from the amount of sugar she'd consumed throughout the day. The rush from it had been non-stop for hours and any poor soul who decided to go upstairs for the toilet (liaisons were strictly off limit and enforced by James and Erin, the same people who'd spent the morning having a liaison of their own) ran the risk of being used as a sled on their way back down. Clare fell into the role of trying to control Orla with the others all busy, but Michelle had already gotten involved once and it appeared she would need to again.
"For fuck's sake!" She swore. "Excuse me a minute".
Giving Danny a peck on the cheek, Michelle excused herself from the kitchen to go to the stairs, barging people out the way in her fury. Going up to the top she gave Erin and James a glare when she realised they were both in the vicinity but doing nothing to stop Orla. She had her second realisation when the two of them began making out against his door; clearly they were too busy with that to care whether Orla hospitalised any of the guests.
"What the fuck Orla!" Michelle shouted at her.
"Ach what's up Michelle". Orla chimed back.
"Clare says yer fuckin' about with the guests again!"
"Aye that's right Michelle. That porky fella with the club foot has got a cracker of a back for sleddin' ye know".
"Jesus Orla, ye can't just go round using every fella's back as a fuckin' human sled. What happens if ye fuck it up and someone gets hurt!"
"It's not like you to care about consequences Michelle". James sneered from his position a few feet away.
"Fuck off Dicko!" She turned on him "Go down and check on the guests, be fucking useful for once!"
James sighed and took Erin's hand in his and the two of them walked past the other three and down to the party, Erin resting her head on his shoulder. Michelle blamed the alcohol intake for the higher than usual need to boke as the loved-up couple exited their presence. Orla finally got up from her spot on the floor and took her drink back from Clare and began to sip on it. Neglecting the alcoholic beverages on offer, Orla had been drinking cola all night and that did no further favours when it came to her sugar rush. If anything, it made it far worse. The 'porky fella' that Orla described exited the bathroom a minute later and Michelle pinned Orla against the wall as he walked past them with a look of utter confusion on his face. The wriggling from the young McCool threatened to break her hold but Clare added her own muscle to the job, the poor bloke wondering what sort of hell he was in when he looked back again. He made his way downstairs, and they could finally let go of Orla.
"Why can't ye let me have fun!" Orla stropped.
"It's not fun when someone breaks a leg Orla!" Clare reprimanded her. "We could get in serious trouble, and I mean serious, if anything happens".
"Normally, I'd tell Clare to fuck off…" Michelle slurred. "…but for once she's spot on. Now can ye calm the fuck down and not threaten anymore guests".
Orla grumbled something, Michelle heard Joe's name in the mutterings but didn't catch the rest of it, and Clare breathed a sigh of relief. With everything in order, Michelle relaxed herself and she could finally get back to Danny and-
"Michelle!".
James's voice, strained with concern, prevented that. What the fuck did Dicko want now…
"Then what happened?"
Both now sitting on her bed, the hazy memories of the story James told her began to patch together to form a far more concrete timeline of events in Michelle's head. She now remembered having to hold Orla down with Clare to prevent her ambushing the poor fella and commissioning him on a downhill run of the Mallon staircase. But she wanted the rest of the story and quick, because a feeling of dread entered her stomach at the point in the story when she realised that she was upstairs and not downstairs watching Jenny and Aisling.
"So, you came down t-".
James was interrupted by the door opening again and this time it was his uncle, Michelle's father Martin, who appeared in the doorway. In his hands was a tray with a big greasy fry up plated up in the centre ready for Michelle to tuck into, with the intention of helping with her hangover.
Michelle was absolutely horrified.
Her father was meant to be away with work again, this time in Cardiff and he shouldn't have been back until later that day. Him being stood in her room at whatever time it was that morning, in very casual clothes and looking rested, made her pale at the thought that he'd seemed to have been at home for a while. If he'd been at home a while, then perhaps…
"Here you go love". He put the tray down on the floor where she'd spent the night. "Did ye clean all that mess up son".
"Yes, all sorted Martin".
"Good lad James". He smiled. "That was yer Erin on the phone by the way. Wants the two of ye to meet the rest of them at the park at twelve".
"What time is it". Michelle groaned again, a hand on her churning head.
"Half ten Michelle. Now I'm off to the shops, I'll see the two of you's later".
"Aye, Bye Da".
"Bye Martin".
Martin shut the door behind him, and Michelle looked down to the plate of food, wanting to eat it but knowing it would probably make a reappearance not long after. That was a secondary concern. What had occurred last night was her main priority.
"Ye better tell me why the fuck he's here or I swear I will ram that bacon so far…".
"Alright Michelle, I get the picture. So, I called you down…"
The reason for the concern in James's voice became abundantly clear when Michelle first looked into the kitchen.
Jenny and Aisling were boking everywhere… absolutely everywhere.
The rest of the partygoers were cramming into every part of the bottom floor they could to avoid the scene of the two girls fetching up their guts. The floor… the counters… the oven… everywhere she looked she could see boke. It made Michelle want to boke again and it took every fibre of her being to not add to the mess the two had already created. Erin was the only one who dared to go anywhere near them and even then, she was well out of the splash zone. Hearing Jenny and Aisling crying didn't help matters; this was meant to be a thank you to them and it was ending up as more of a fuck you.
"Oh… my… god!"
"Here Orla". Michelle handed her a set of keys. "Get the back door open".
Orla nodded in response and ran to the door to unlock it, staying the other side and holding it open ready for the anticipated bailing out of the two puking girls.
"You two!" She tried to show as much compassion in the shout at Jenny and Aisling as she could. "Get outside!"
The girls were almost keeling over but no one risked going to help steady them or they'd most likely be soaked with boke. Michelle looked around to try and spot Danny but on failing to see him, she abandoned her search to concentrate on Jenny and Aisling. The two girls began to hurl again once they were outside, narrowly avoiding Orla who used the door as a boke shield. Michelle directed the two girls to sit down on the bench outside and they both sat with their heads between their knees.
"MICHELLE!"
It was getting worse.
A lot worse.
That was the angered shout of her father.
James recognised the danger too and nearly dropped the glasses of water he'd bought for the two girls. Erin and Clare were the only two people Martin recognised when he stormed through the house and when he smelled the sick and then spotted in the kitchen, it was the two of them that received his initial wrath.
"What the hell's going on!"
"Don't shout at me Martin!" Erin feistily defended herself and Clare. "I'm not the one puking up all over the place!"
"Ye watch yer tongue Erin or I'll be having words with yer Mother. Where's Michelle?!"
"I'm out here!"
Martin stormed out into the garden, noticing the further boke all over the patio and into the grass. He was raging beyond belief. Neither Deirdre or Michelle had informed him of the party and whilst he didn't mind Michelle organising it, seeing puddles of sick all over the kitchen sent him over the edge. He worked hard to pay for the house and keep it in good order and didn't expect to see it trashed by drunken kids.
"Have ye seen that state of the kitchen!"
"I know Da!"
"And you". He turned on James. "I thought ye were supposed to be sensible! Why have ye let my kitchen look like the feckin Somme?!"
"I tried…"
"Shut up English! RIGHT ALL OF YOU OUT NOW!"
The disgruntled groans of the huddle of teenagers reverberated around the walls of the Mallon house and gradually, the kids all began to leave. None of them stopped to say thank you for a good party or anything like that; in reality, it was never going to be good with the smell of boke in the air. Some of the kids had to be helped on their way by Martin, a couple of lads especially in trying to finish their drinks ended up lifted out by their collars. It left just the gang, who now all stood in the back garden, watching over Jenny and Aisling. The latter, after having some water, seemed to be regaining her senses and through her teary eyes she was able to mutter a few words. Erin was snuggled up into James, the cold air forcing her into his arms where she found the warmth she was looking for.
"Where do these two live?" Martin enquired about Jenny and Aisling when he returned.
"I can… direct you". Aisling, completely shitfaced, spoke for herself.
"Alright fine. Clare can ye direct me to the other one's and I'll drop ye home?"
"Aye Mr Mallon!" She was barely holding it together.
"I'll walk the girls home". James announced to Martin, who accepted with a nod. "You can clean up this mess Michelle".
"What… How is that fair!" She moaned but they all ignored her. "OI!"
"Oh fuck!"
"Yeah, not our best evening was it". James summarised. "And that discarded vodka bottle on the table over there completes the piece of the puzzle that I didn't even know".
"Which is?" Michelle spoke whilst crunching her toast.
"Why you didn't clean up… I had to clean the kitchen before I could go to bed. Can you imagine if Deirdre walked in and found the kitchen in the mess it was in. We'd have been hanging from the nearest tree!"
Michelle's regrets grew as the dickhead of a cousin she lived with revealed how far he'd gone to save their own hides with at least her mother. The backlash from her father would be severe and unavoidable, despite James appearing to have done as much as he could to appease the man but at least her mother wouldn't find any further ammunition. Martin for certain wouldn't tell Deirdre about what had happened, but it enabled him to hold the Sword of Damocles over the two kids' heads. They would have to tread carefully around him going forward.
"I cleaned up outside when I got up as well. You owe me for this one Michelle".
The regrets faded when James went too far. He should never have dared to presume that Michelle would repay him for the favour and instead found a mushroom hurled at him. So much for being a good man James…
"I owe you nothing! Michelle started. "Unless you want me to tell Mary about what really happened to that sheet then I suggest ye forget the party ever existed".
"But…"
"I mean it ye fuckin' English prick. And don't ever kick my door in again ye hear?! I could have had me tits out, I don't want ye fuckin' perving on me while I'm sleeping!"
"It would have given me an excuse to have therapy". James snickered in return.
Michelle put her tray back on the floor and reached for another cushion to launch at him but found him far too quick as it smacked onto the back of her already closing door. If he was Irish and he'd done all that for her then things would have been different, she would have hugged him and said thanks. But the fact he was English and was shagging her best friend gave him absolutely no authority to dictate whether favours were repaid or not. She chastised herself for even having any regrets in the first place. But she was hanging out of her arse that morning and the Lord would surely forgive her for the odd questionable decision here or there. Twenty minutes later, when she was over the toilet bowl spewing up the breakfast her father made for her, Michelle sought more forgiveness for bad decisions.
15th February 1996
I'm sorry for neglecting to write yesterday but holy shit have things changed since pen last went to paper! Erin Quinn is a big girl now!
For a start, I never needed that conversation with James about… well ye know… because when it comes to that it is the actions that speak louder. Although the words he got me to utter…
Anyway, Michelle wasn't happy about it all and I nearly needed a new door the way she charged in here yesterday. We all got a bit upset after but our friendship as a group is far too strong to be weakened by what me and James did, so we had a nice big group hug to clear the air. It's good to know that even if things have changed between me and James, things are staying the same within the gang. Clare's still cacking it, Orla's still crazy (Hello by the way if you're reading this) and Michelle's still swearing like there's no tomorrow.
I also owe Daddy a lot! I mean… A LOT!
I've been slightly disturbed by the fact he made sure me and James could be alone to have our moment, but I don't want to seem ungrateful either. I think Daddy sees James as himself in some ways and I have to admit there are some similarities when it comes to them. They're both used to taking shit from a close family member, both are quite reserved and they're also both so selfless. Mind you, Daddy knows far more about covering his tracks than James does and I'm not sure we'd have been able to get away with deceiving Mammy and Granda Joe without him. I should be cross that he took his revenge on Granda with the 'evidence planting' but Granda is always giving him a hard time so who am I to criticise Daddy.
Michelle's party was a fecking shitshow. I wouldn't be surprised if Jenny and Aisling never speak to us again after last night. I don't blame them either. I know exactly who I am blame but I can't tell Michelle because she won't believe me. The moment I clapped eyes on Danny I knew he would be trouble. I'm… a bit scared of him actually, with that tattoo on his neck and the way his eyes seem to linger. I reckon I nearly crushed James's wee hand I was squeezing onto him that tight. It didn't come as a surprise to me when I saw the bottle under Danny's coat as he made a hasty exit before the girls started boking everywhere. He spiked their drinks with something. I couldn't see the label on the bottle but whatever it was must have been fecking strong. Michelle won't hear a bad word about him and when I told James and Orla on the way back here last night, neither of them seemed convinced. But I don't back down easy.
This afternoon I managed to get James alone and I had a few things to run through with him. He was adorable when I told him about what Daddy had done with the condom and the argument that came about because of it. And I also let him know we'd be up for round two soon or as I put it 'The things ye did to me… if ye don't send me to that place again then I'll drown ye in the damn Foyle'. I don't know why I found that so… sexy… but I did.
I also asked him if he believed me about Danny. He's trying to trust the fella, which I do understand because he does have to live with Michelle, but James doesn't seem to like him that much either. He didn't like the way I reacted to being near Danny, about how scared I was and I did confess to him of being scared of Danny and for Michelle. James told me he'd protect all of us from him. Despite Danny being stronger and taller than him, I know my wee English fella would keep him from doing us harm. I'm just not quite sure how we convey to Michelle that Danny's no good…