Chapter 5: Bokeorama
Clare didn't expect to receive a Valentine's card, so her morning went as it normally would when they weren't at school. She got up around half past eight, her parents both long gone to work, and pottered about the house for half an hour. Consuming some toast and a cup of tea, she sat at the dining table pondering her plans. Michelle's phone call at eight the night before decided the latter half of the day, but she still had hours to kill until then. But then there was the matter of the card.
She could get a phone call after it was received.
She knew the handwriting would be recognised… there was no way it wouldn't be. They spent a lot of time together after all.
God should have made her differently and then she would be forward and confident about her feelings but that was his decision and Clare resigned herself to it. By Christ it could be awkward though…
After ten minutes of stewing, Clare returned to the top floor of her house to have a shower and get ready to go out. Staying indoors and festering on the 'what if's' could hardly constitute a good Valentine's Day. No, she would go out. Michelle didn't mention that she needed any help to organise the party, but Clare knew that if left to plan anything on her own, she'd just drink all the booze and be asleep by the time the first guest turned up. Gleaning from Michelle that Erin and James would be spending the day together, it only left Orla to help and that wouldn't improve the planning situation. At least if she gave a hand then it wouldn't be a total disaster of an evening.
By the time she was showered and dressed, Clare noted the time being just after ten. She tried to calculate how many drinks Michelle could have consumed already that morning in her head, but the numbers were frankly too scary to continue to dwell on. After the wispy nip of the early morning air receded, the sun came out and the temperatures became manageable for once. The winter was being spoken of as one of the worst in recent memory. The snow at Christmas and then the February flurries were a part of it, but the real problem had been the icy mornings. Some mornings getting up for school became more of a chore than the actual lessons themselves. Walks to and from the bus stop were treacherous, Clare remembering well the morning that Orla slid down a hill and straight into a bush at the bottom. How she came out of the prickly bush without so much as a tear in her eye confused the diminutive blonde to this day.
Approaching the Mallon house, Clare spotted empty crates outside in the front garden and her suspicions about Michelle's sobriety were validated. Expecting to find the odd smashed bottle in the garden, it did surprise her that only the crates and a gnome adorned the Mallon lawn. Perhaps I'm judging a book by its cover… Clare thought to herself.
Reaching up to ring the doorbell, the door flew open and the sudden movement scared Clare so much that she stumbled back off the step and nearly fell straight into one of the crates. Her heart sprang from her chest for a brief second, only returning to its natural state when she steadied on her feet.
"It's Clare!" Orla, the culprit behind opening the door, shouted back inside.
"Jesus Orla! Did ye have to open the door so viciously".
"Well… aye! Ye might have been a burglar or a Provo, Clare. I can't be takin' those chances, can I?"
Clare went to remind Orla of how stupid that would sound but was distracted by Michelle thundering through the gap she left in the door with a look of pure fury in her eyes.
"Morning Mich…".
"WHAT THE FUCK CLARE!?"
"I'm sorry?" Clare shrivelled up in fear and confusion.
"What the fuck is this!?" Michelle dropped her voice down to her natural pitch so the whole street did not tune into their exchange.
"A… card?" The perplexed Clare replied.
"A card? A Card? Fuckin' hell Clare, this is a declaration of love!"
Clare looked to Orla for any hints of what Michelle was getting at, but Orla was busy looking up into the sky as a group of pigeons went overhead in a V formation.
"Look Clare, I'm flattered but ye know… I don't swing that way. I'm all for a cuddle like but I'm not going beyond that…".
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON ABOUT MICHELLE!" Clare angrily hissed and that certainly was heard by most of the street, a couple of old ladies peering out from closed curtains to watch the commotion.
"What!? Have you gone fuckin' mental? The card ye dose!"
"Give me that!" Clare demanded as she pulled the card and its envelope from Michelle's grasp.
Clare furiously gazed at the familiar picture and deep from the pit of her stomach, a groan rumbled. Her heart dropped when she realised that it was indeed the card she wrote and put into the collection box. But how had it got to Michelle? She wasn't the intended recipient of the card… Was Jenny Joyce playing a sick joke on them to ruin their friendship…by altering the destination of the card? Jenny's recent change in attitude to the group could at least be explained. Lulling them all into a false sense of security to then deliver a killing blow that could blow their group apart. But it didn't sound like something Jenny would do. And on looking at the envelope, she was proven very much correct.
"ORLA!" She screeched.
"What?" Orla, no longer looking at the pigeons but focusing on a Dip Dab instead, spoke back.
"I said Mikayla! MIKAYLA!".
"Ach right ye. I didn't know how to spell her name, so I wrote Michelle instead".
Clare and Michelle performed synchronised huffs and arm throws as the misunderstanding's root cause unravelled itself in front of them.
"Why the fuck did ye leave it to Orla?" Michelle turned on Clare.
"Because I got nervous!"
"You're always fuckin' nervous, how's that possible!".
"I just did! Ok?! Thanks Orla, I've blown my chance with Mikayla now and my day's ruined".
Clare began to sob in front of her two friends. Orla wasn't quite sure why Clare was getting so angry with her or why she was crying. She'd done what was asked of her, it wasn't her fault that she didn't know how to spell the other girl's name. Michelle, in attempt to be sympathetic, leant forward to give Clare a hug but she was pushed away by her friend, who'd transitioned into a full wailing cry.
"Clare". Michelle's voice was improbably soft. "Ye haven't blown your chance. I don't want this to sound harsh but it's not like Derry's got a carousel of lesbians to choose from. If Mikayla is… ye know, then why not try talking to her next week at school".
"I…" Clare sniffed, wiping her eyes before looking up at Michelle. "I don't know Michelle. I don't know what to say when I'm sat next to her in class… I thought the card would…".
"Then I'll help ye".
"I'm not you Michelle! I can't just make jokes about fannies and talk about sex. I'm not-".
"You don't need to be me Clare". Michelle put a hand on her arm. "Ye just need to calm your tits for five minutes and relax. Trust me".
Clare's tears stopped and Michelle returned to her a minute later with some kitchen roll for her to wipe her eyes with. It was only then that Clare took note of Michelle and Orla both wearing coats and indicated with a dip of her head that she wished to know why.
"I broke the bottle opener. Orla said Mary's got loads so we're off to get one".
"And we can find out what James and Erin are doing". Orla spoke like a hardened detective.
"What?" Clare, slightly horrified at the immediate thought in her head, interjected.
"Wise up Clare!" Michelle smirked. "Gerry's there with them, the closest they'll get to any physical activity is playing catch in the back garden".
They lay back side by side on Erin's bed.
Panting.
That was the only noise other than the radio which James had leant over and turned on.
Their hands stayed locked together, unwilling to relinquish the full contact between them. This would be a moment that would define their lives. A certain rite of passage completed… an experience shared together with no one in the world to know it occurred. James might have been the bravest man ever seen in Derry. An Englishman who'd just made love to Erin Quinn right under her parent's noses without a hint of suspicion. None of them could accuse him of being gay now…
"Well…" Erin started, still trying to catch her breath.
"Yeah…". James too was still attempting to regulate himself.
Their nervous giggles a moment later emphasised just how much the situation they were in was alien to them. Shuffling whilst continue their laughter, they found themselves on their sides, nose to nose and irises searching their counterparts lovingly.
"That was… erm… well I don't know the words really". James laughed.
"Beautiful… passionate…".
"Definitely passionate". He chirped.
That earned him a smack on his arm but not one that hurt, just a playful tap to remind him of his place. He didn't mind that when he got to tickle her back and her body wriggled under him as his hands explored it.
"Stop it you". She chuckled.
"Make me".
That was a challenge she willingly accepted and rolled back on top of him and put her lips onto his, cutting off any further talking. He wrapped his hands around her back and matched her passion in the kiss. This was what he wanted the rest of his life to be. Lazy mornings rolling around with Erin, laughing and loving. He only needed one taste to know that's how he wanted it to be. Erin wanted that as well. She too only needed the one experience to want the rest of her life to be like this with him. And only him.
Michelle, Clare and Orla took the walk to the Quinn house steady. They were in no rush really as Michelle and Orla had cracked on with the rest of the preparations surprisingly well that morning before Clare showed up. The crying from Clare ceased quickly once they'd set off and they fell into the regular pattern of jokes and banter. Most of them being at James or Erin's expense as the two of them were absent.
"So Molly's gone to Scotland?" Orla raised the question from Michelle's latest point.
"Aye, gone to have her wain in shame".
"I still can't believe it". Clare commented.
"It's fucked up I know. Doyley never said about Billy but I bet he won't be let off the farm for fuckin' months".
"I wouldn't mind being on a farm for months". Orla pointed out.
"Ye of course ye wouldn't Orla". Michelle sniggered. "Ye sharin' any of that pick n mix or what?"
Orla reluctantly let the other two put a hand into the bag and have some of her sweets but forced Michelle to show her palm to make sure she wasn't taking too many. Michelle was a repeat offender when it came to that.
"Have you invited Danny then Michelle?" Clare questioned.
"Yeah". She answered a little distantly. "If we are going to be… ye know… official… then he needs to get used to being around you's".
Michelle having a serious boyfriend was a surprise to Clare. She was only just learning to adjust to James and Erin being a couple and now Michelle was talking about a proper relationship. Clare thought her behaviour when it came to boys would be at a state of incorrigibility that could never be changed but she was being proven to be wrong. Michelle wasn't joking, her feelings for Danny were strong.
"Can I show him my knives?".
"Ha! His brother is Scarface Scanlon Orla, I'm sure he's seen plenty of knives".
"But he hasn't seen my knives has he!"
"There trouble those Scanlon's". Clare huffed. "Be careful Michelle".
"Danny's the good one Clare. Just because his brother's a fuckin' psycho doesn't mean he is".
Clare hummed an agreement with her instead of arguing. She still thought it was dangerous when it came to Danny but if Michelle was happy then she wouldn't be doing anything to derail what they had together. All of a sudden, Clare was pulled from her thoughts as Michelle stuck her arms out in front of her and Orla, bringing them to a stop.
"What is it?" Clare fretted slightly.
"Look". Michelle pointed to the spot outside the Quinn house. "Where the fuck's Gerry's car?"
"Maybe they've gone out". Orla theorised.
"Aye". Clare agreed with her in turn. "Mr Quinn's a nice man… he's probably taken them for lunch or something like that".
Michelle wasn't buying it one bit. Orla and Clare might have been happy to think Gerry being generous was the obvious answer, but she knew they'd have forgotten the added factor of the day. It was Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day and the only adult in the house's car was missing from outside the front. James and Erin might be alone in that house. Michelle, like almost everyone in Derry, didn't trust the English.
"We'll have to get up soon".
James's resigned sigh fluttered into Erin's ear as she lay on top of him. His fingers traced the curve of her spine in a gentle rhythm, a relaxing melody for her body to become attuned to.
"I know". She sighed in return.
Rolling off her boyfriend, Erin sat up instead of lying back down and looked at the neat piles of their clothes on the floor. She still couldn't really explain, even to herself, why they felt the need to have them so neat. Mary always insisted that the clothes were but that would have hardly been on the top of her agenda if she was to walk in and find them in the position they were currently in. And when it came to that, Mary's instructions regarding 'funny business' were very clear. Christ, imagine if she did walk in… Erin thought to herself.
Mary's mouth would probably hang open.
Erin would start crying
James would probably try to find his pants and any other clothes he could in a vain attempt to make it seem innocent.
Mary would then almost certainly call Gerry and Joe in to deal with James.
Erin would be dragged from the bed kicking and screaming.
James would either go out the window or be launched into the street…
The gentle fingers caressing the chain of her necklace, the one that matched the necklace adorning his neckline, broke her away from the nightmare she was dreaming of. The added kisses to the back of her neck didn't help her composure and the tidal waves of pleasure Erin believed to have expunged, washed in with a shiver.
"What are you thinking about". He mumbled as he nipped away.
"Just…" She had to stop as his nipping threatened to make her fall apart again. "… if Mammy found us, what she'd do to us".
James opted for ceasing the little bites he was placing on her neck and instead shifted so that he was behind Erin, wrapping her into a hug and pressing into her back.
"Don't". He whispered. "That's a nightmare we don't need".
Being young, carefree and a bit stupid, the happy couple could only think to break out into laughter at his words. James was correct in his hypothesis when it came to Mary but there was something in the way that he said it that amused them both. It was as if Mary walking in on them would be a sketch out of a comedy and the two of them would be the idiotic young lovers caught out. It was all just a big joke to them because they knew they wouldn't be caught. Erin couldn't even remember the reason why her father and Anna left so suddenly, and she didn't really care either.
"We'll need to shower James". She spoke in a slightly reserved manner.
"I know. You or me first?" He beamed as he bought his head around to the side, looking into her eyes.
"Funny ye should say that". It was Erin's turn to be husky. "I've had this theory when it comes to our shower".
"Erm… ok". Instead of the macho act she wished for, James responded dorkily.
"That it's actually big enough to fit two".
Already annoyed from his failure to act all macho, Erin felt a little dismayed when he said nothing and instead just tried to register what she was insinuating. Jesus Christ! We've just had sex and ye can't pick up on my little hints… come on James!
"Oh". The realisation hit him harder than Mary would if she found him in his present state. "I see. And might we test this theory?"
Finally he got it. Erin breathed a sigh of relief and in the absence of the right words, she beckoned him to follow her with a wink, raising herself from the bed. Connecting their hands, she led him out of the room and across to the hallway. Neither bothered to cover themselves for the walk across to the shower.
And the house of cards came tumbling down.
"WHAT THE FUCK!"
Michelle… MICHELLE HAD SEEN THEM.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH".
Erin screamed and pushed James back through the door, the Englishman tripping up and falling backwards onto the floor. Erin shut the door behind them. She was bright red and looking down at James, they two of them shared a panicked look. SHIT!
She knew it.
She fucking knew it!
That dirty English bastard!
An empty house, alone with Erin, of course the English fucker had gone and shagged her. Michelle was raging. Raging beyond belief. Rule three was not there to broken. She'd never thought of what to do if they did; there was no lacerating punishment like she imagined Mary would have ready.
Clare wasn't much use either. The moment the naked figures of their friends appeared at the top of the stairs, the lights went out in Clare's head and she fell face first onto the stairs. Orla, misinterpreting her fainting for diving practice, launched herself headfirst into the wall of the stairs and promptly knocked herself out, falling on top of Clare. As she expected, Michelle was left to deal with the two eejits herself.
Storming up the stairs, the floorboards groaning as she stomped over them, the thought entered her head that maybe she didn't want to see inside Erin's room. She didn't want to see either of them without clothes on ever again, that was for damn sure.
"Open the door ye pair of feckers!" She smacked her open palm onto it when it wouldn't budge.
"ERIN! OPEN THE FUCKIN' DOOR!"
"Go away Michelle!" She cried back.
"Fuck no!". She tried again to open it, the door this time opening slightly, and she realised James must have been behind it to hold it in place. "Dicko! I am going to rip yer bollocks off and throw them in the Foyle… OPEN THE DOOR!"
"Piss off Michelle, leave us alone!"
"Oh no! NO NO NO! You feckers ain't getting away with this".
"Michelle!" Erin cried again
"Don't stall the ball on me Erin! You and Thomas the Wank Engine are in for it!"
Taking a step back and performing a spontaneous sign of the cross, Michelle drove her shoulder into the door and this time James couldn't hold her back. The force knocked him back into the wall and Michelle heard his pathetic wail of pain as she tumbled into the room. Michelle herself only just held her feet and gaining a firmer footing, she looked up to find the teary-eyed Erin staring back. She'd managed to get her underwear and a shirt on, but her bare legs shook with a trembling fear, the hairs standing on end. Looking to her left, James only managed to cover the bottom half, his Jeans on but missing a shirt and Michelle wanted to boke looking at his chest. Trying to find a point to focus on other than her half-naked friends, Michelle's boke went to full bokeorama when she caught sight of the condom… the used condom.
"YOU… DIRTY… DIRTY… BASTARD!"
Her fist clenched and the red mist descended. She swung straight at James, a hooked punch destined for his jaw in the hope of taking a few teeth with it. But James's goalkeeping ability came to his aid as he caught the punch destined for him at the base of her wrist and held it in place. The undeterred Michelle attempted to use her left hand but he was ready for her there too and held her wrists together in front of face. A face of pure fury.
"Get off me ye fuckin' prick!"
"Not until you've calmed down".
"CALMED DOWN?!" She screamed back. "I WON'T CALM DOWN UNTIL YE FUCK OFF OUT OF HERE!"
"Well I'm not going anywhere! So I suggest you stop being a fucking child and grow the fuck up!" James roared back.
"Fuck off ye curly haired shite! Just because you've-" She stopped when he looked away and then hurried away from her. "OI!"
James escaped her tirade because he looked to his left and saw what their argument was doing to Erin. Tears were streaming downing her face and James never wanted to see her crying like that ever again. He was to blame… if only partly… and he had to do something about it. Erin almost fell into him as she began to wail, weeping onto his bare chest, squeezing him tightly. She refused to look at Michelle. James stood fighting to control his own rage. If Michelle were a man, he would have no hesitation but to punch her into the next millennium. No one made Erin cry on his watch. No one. Not even Michelle.
"See what you've done". He seethed. "Get out Michelle… just get out".
The rampaging nature of her turbulent soul sought further anger and hatred, but Michelle's head and heart stepped in to stop it. She simmered down whilst staring at the two of them locked in their embrace. Erin's sobs rang out like church bells and it was the only thing that Michelle could hear. The radio might have been on, but she couldn't pick up the words to the song that was playing. All she could hear were Erin's cries. Emotions that she'd created from her own feelings. The deep-rooted jealousy she held them both in. Her mind never considered the jealousy when she stormed up the stairs or when she shoulder barged her way through the door. But that is what it was… she was jealous because they'd gone all the way. The two of them had lost their virginities before Michelle. Michelle had never gone the whole way despite popular belief or what she wanted everyone to believe. It was all a front for her confidence. Destroying Erin's in return only increased the suffering and longing in her heart. What have I done…
"Yeah…".
Stepping out of the room, tears in her own eyes, she sank down against the wall at the top of the stairs. Michelle questioned everything she'd thought about Erin and James. Since when was it her right to tell them what to do? If they were in love… then why shouldn't they consummate their relationship? Why did she have to be jealous?...
Hearing Orla and Clare begin to stir from their prone positions at the bottom of the stairs, Michelle sniffled one final time and bottled up the emotions that had been set off within her. Her own beliefs caused them, and she would have to deal with them alone. That was the punishment she set herself for inflicting upset upon Erin.
Michelle, Orla and Clare sat in the front room of the Quinn house in total silence. Michelle had just finished relaying the details of what occurred whilst the other two were out cold. Orla reacted by opening another bag of pick n mix and chomping away in the corner as if the news didn't concern her at all. That came between various attempts at braiding Clare's hair whilst her friend did pay attention to what Michelle had to say.
After coming round from the shock of seeing a lot more of Erin and James than she ever wished to, Clare turned her emotions on Michelle. Despite wishing to scrub the image of the two of them at the top of the stairs from her head permanently, she wasn't angry that they'd done the deed. After all, it was what people in love do and when she found out Michelle's response to the pair, she was overcome with anger towards the young Mallon.
"That was real good of you Michelle!"
"Look, I know…".
"Ye well, the nature of our friendship is being broken apart by you not being able to deal with this! Can't ye just leave them alone and let them get on with their lives".
"It's just…".
"Just what Michelle? Ye keep putting up barriers and dividin' people… christ ye no better than the Brits or the Provo's!".
Clare's words stung her. The sad thing for Michelle was that she knew they were deserved. She'd been a dick and Clare was only reinforcing that to her. She could only hope that Erin would be forgiving. To some extent she didn't care what James thought, he was still English and still a dick, but she wouldn't cope if Erin shut her out. She wouldn't have long to wait because after ten minutes of further melancholy, the creaking of floorboards indicated the return of the couple. She could barely look either of them in the eye when they walked into the living room, hand in hand, and with heads held high. They were walking in preparing for an onslaught from at least two of their friends, but the awkward silence continued as no one said a word. The room was like a scene from one of the old westerns, everyone with hands on their belts and waiting to draw, but in this film, there were no guns. Not even verbal ones.
"I'm sorry".
Michelle got up and ran to Erin, with the hope that she wouldn't be pushed away. Her hope was not forlorn; Erin accepted her with open arms and the two of them began crying onto each other's shoulders. James and Clare exchanged smiles at the scene of their reconciliation, thankful that there would be no lasting repercussions between the two girls. They both added their arms around the two and Orla dived into to make it a full group hug. Tears fell from Clare too as they all grasped each other tightly, James pressing a kiss to the side of Erin's head that allowed her to let out a breath she'd held for minutes. Another moment of peace found at the Quinn house within the troubles…
"We're back!"
Gerry and Anna… SHIT!
The group jumped apart, Clare again finding herself on a descent to the floor, albeit from tripping over Michelle's leg rather than fainting. Orla made a valiant attempt to catch her but ended up landing on her, Clare howling as she was flattened by her much taller friend. Gerry arrived in the room right at that moment, a bemused look on his face as he noted the position the two girls found themselves in. He was soon drawn away from them to the faces of the other three. Or rather the three people in the room who were doing everything within their power to not make eye contact with him. He spotted Erin trying to wriggle her hand out of James's grasp and the way Michelle looked as if she'd seen a ghost when he appeared in the living room. Very odd…
"Morning girls". Gerry smiled.
"Ach sorry Uncle Gerry…". Orla lifted herself off Clare. "… Clare tripped so she did and I tried to catch her but it didn't work out ye know".
"Aye I can see that". Gerry smirked. "Will ye take Anna for me love".
"Oh YESSS! Come here to your cousin little Anna!"
Orla rushed over to Gerry and he placed the baby into Orla's open arms. She whirled Anna around, and led her over to the window, pointing out to each car on the street and giving her little cousin a detailed explanation as to who drove each one and what they were like. Important information for Anna for the future when she could speak and go and talk to the neighbours. Orla loved a chat to the neighbours, especially Jim over the road. He knew a lot about animals, and she could listen to his stories all day long.
"Are you all alright?" Gerry sensed the tension in the air.
"Fine!" Clare quickly answered for all of the group. "Absolutely fine Mr Quinn. Never been better. So cracker that ye wouldn't believe it!".
"Shut up Clare". Michelle elbowed her in the side.
"Right… so nothing has happened since I've been out". He pressed on.
"We came over for a bottle opener Gerry". Michelle could at least tell that part of the truth. "I've broken ours and Orla said ye had loads so I was gunna borrow one, but we got talking".
Gerry nodded but he'd known Michelle Mallon for too long. She was talking out of her hole and Gerry knew it. Clearly something had transpired since he was out with Anna, but it was going to take a bit more digging to find out.
"Erin and James were naked at the top of the stairs".
Or not.
Orla McCool existed and was in earshot. No further digging required.
Michelle and Clare both closed their eyes in attempts to find their happy places and zone out from the living room of the Quinn house. The reminder of what they'd walked into when they arrived at the house also needed to be scrubbed from Clare's mind again. Erin herself put her hands over her face. This was about to be the worst moment of her life and she balanced the wish to throw Orla out of the window and the imminent need to cry again. The latter won out and tears trickled into her palms as they covered her face.
Meanwhile, James faced the prospect of imminent death. Gerry might not have appeared to be a violent man but that's what terrified James more. You always had to fear the quiet ones. On the upside he wouldn't be dying a virgin, something which one day not long after being dumped in Derry, Michelle told him would happen. But he was about to die because he'd just broken Gerry's trust and deflowered his daughter under his roof. Taking a deep breath, he looked up to Gerry who… began… laughing…
"Pfff…. Hahahahahahha".
They all ceased their various attempts at coping mechanisms, and Orla's narration of cars to Anna, to observe the fit of laughter that overcame Gerry. He was holding onto the sofa just to maintain his balance, stressing just how much the situation amused him. James still held his guard, unwilling to drop it in case he was being lulled into a trap, but Erin's brain told her to find out what the hell her father was doing.
"Daddy?"
"Ahah… hah… oh Erin love… the faces on you two… haha!"
"You do realise they've been at it while ye were out Gerry…" Michelle gently enquired with him. "… rubber an' all".
Quickly realising that her addition to the story only increased Gerry's laughter, Michelle shot Erin and James looks of disbelief. Clare too was having a hard time processing his guffawing. It was hardly a laughing matter.
"Daddy why are ye laughing!" Erin demanded an answer.
"Erin love…" Gerry stopped, coughing a couple of times to keep his composure. "Remember what I said about acting responsibly?"
"Yes… but we… didn't…did we"
"You might find this hard to believe but I was your age too once Erin". He ceased her stammering. "I know what trying to find an opportunity is like… trust me…".
"Eugh Daddy!"
Erin was disgusted by the thought, but James quickly squeezed her hand to make her listen to her father. Through their re-connected palms, Erin could feel how relaxed her boyfriend had become since her father's explanation began. Glancing up at his face, she even noted a thin smile on his lips. My brave wee English fella…
"Hey you're lucky love. You two have me to deal with, I had Joe!" Gerry highlighted. "Still have…"
Michelle snorted at that comment, earning herself a side eye from both Gerry and Clare. That put her right back in her place.
"Look, as long as you're using protection then I've no problem with it. But for the love of god do not tell Mary about me allowing this".
James grinned his agreement. There was absolutely no way Mary Quinn could find out the events of Valentine's Day morning of 1996. Not if James still wanted to live and Erin wished for a life outside of a convent.
"But you didn't allow it da, Anna had an appointment". The frowning Erin stated.
"Ah… ha… hahaha! My powers of bullshit are stronger than ever then… haha!".
"What?"
Gerry looked to James and knew the Englishman cottoned on to what he was inferring. Michelle and Clare also wore knowing expressions but Erin, thrown pillar to post between a varying set of feelings that morning, wasn't getting it.
"There was no appointment. And I don't expect your mother to hear about this fantasy appointment you've dreamt up in your head".
"Ach… right!" Erin perked up as the penny dropped. "Thanks Daddy".
She ran forward and jumped into her father's arms; a scene James found heart-warming in contrast to Michelle finding it slightly bokeworthy. We aren't fucking ten anymore…
"Now I hope you've planned your cover story". Gerry asked as he put Erin back down.
"Cover story?" Confused, James replied.
"Jesus you're worse than I was". Gerry ran a hand through his hair. "My Mary could find Lord Lucan in the shed if she tried hard enough. You've got to get the condom out of this house before she gets back. And the sheets? Have ye thought about the sheets?"
James and Erin quickly locked eyes in a mutual panic. The spontaneity of the beautiful memories they'd created together that morning seemed perfect at the time but reality had come back to slap them straight across the face in the aftermath. Neither of them thought about the very valid points Gerry had raised. Neither had any idea what to do.
At least they had time on their side.
"Ach look Anna, there's Granda Joe's car and your Mammy's in the passenger seat".
Ah… no they did not…