Chapter 6: Deception
The kids all looked to Gerry for a plan. He was the only adult after all.
"Orla, stall Mary for as long as you can" Ordering her about in an unusually commanding note, Gerry's mind raced. "Clare, make them both a cup of tea ready for when they come in. And make up a juice for Anna as well".
"Christ… Ok!... Ok!" Clare's customary shite the tights moment occurred.
"What about Anna, Gerry?" Orla asked as she walked over with her cousin on her shoulder.
"Michelle will you take her?"
"What?" The slightly annoyed Michelle replied.
"It'll be your head too ye know. Please?" Gerry pleaded.
"Ach fine. Come here Anna, come and see your favourite aunt Michelle".
Michelle scooped up the baby from Orla's arms and sat down on the floor with her, making faces and doing her best to make the baby laugh. Orla ran off in the direction of the front, stopping to pick up something from the cupboard under the stairs before charging out the door.
"You two". He pointed at James and Erin, the Englishman now having his arm around her. "Quit cuddling and come with me".
Slightly red faced at his comment, they might have been able to hide their embarrassment around the gang, but it was taking time with her parents, they were soon at Gerry's heels as he bounded up the stairs like a Jack Russell. From the mostly mild-mannered father, he'd transitioned into the quick-thinking Sergeant with his raw troops. They were certainly greenhorns when it came to this anyway. He just needed time.
"Right, James you can bag it up because I'm not touching it". Gerry waved his hand in the direction of the condom.
"With what?"
"There's a little pack of bags in the cupboard by my room, use one of those". Gerry informed him, James soon running off to retrieve them.
"What about me Daddy?" Erin sheepishly asked.
"Wait here. CLARE!"
Gerry's shout resulted in Clare's inevitable cack attack. She almost jumped through the back door from the counter next to it, her back smacking onto the glass. She hated when people shouted her name through a house. All they needed to do was address her lightly, not threaten to force her into a change of clothes.
"Is that Juice done yet!"
"Ye… Yes. Coming Mr Quinn!" She called back.
James returned to the room and Erin couldn't watch him picking up the discarded latex and putting into the little bag. It was mortifying when her father was stood a couple of feet from her, even if he was looking out down the stairs waiting for Clare. Erin fidgeted on the spot, desperately wanting James to hold her but too nervous to even say his name, let alone anything else. Tying the bag up, he stood back up and walked over to Gerry.
"Hold onto that for a minute". Gerry instructed before turning around to the arriving Clare. "Thank ye Clare, you go back down and finish those drinks".
"Yes sir!"
Clare bolted down the stairs, nearly tripping over and landing in a heap at the bottom in the state of pure panic she was in.
"Take the duvet off Erin".
Silently acknowledging her father's commands, Erin stripped the duvet off and found James to be helping her a second later as they threw it to the floor. They were taken by surprise when Gerry launched the juice all over the sheets, right into the middle of the bed.
"Daddy!" Erin complained.
"Have you got any better ideas?" Gerry raised a brow. "No, I didn't think so. Now help me get this sheet off before we become the main course at the Badgers".
The three of them worked together quickly to remove the sheet from the bed and it soon joined the duvet in a messy pile on Erin's floor. Gerry noted the sweat pouring off of the two kids, the effect of their terrified thoughts about Mary's likely reaction should she find out what they'd done. Gerry too was getting a bit warm; he would probably be in for as bad, if not worse a reprimand.
"Why is Mammy even back!" Erin cried out in confusion.
"I have no idea but it can only mean things haven't gone as planned".
"So she'll be raging more than usual… Jesus!" Erin worried.
Confirming Erin's concerns, Gerry took a look out of the window to see what Orla had done to keep Mary and Joe at bay, the front door yet to be heard open. Seeing Orla with the bow in her hand, an arrow ready and the weapon draw, his eyes widened.
What a waste of a journey it had been that morning. Roisin had already inconvenienced Mary by arranging the meetup at such late notice but then when she never showed at the café it really got to Mary. She should have been at home, keeping an eye on the lovebirds herself and not forcing Gerry to have the day off work to do it for her. Walking around Omagh for an hour was pleasant enough at least and Mary allowed herself a look around the shops, even if she didn't purchase anything. When Joe returned an hour or so later, expecting Mary to be deep in conversation and hoping to slip off to the pub for a pint, he was nearly as disappointed as she was.
On the way to Omagh and on the way back, Joe tried to convince Mary to leave Gerry. The same conversation he'd had with her at least once a week for twenty years. Sometimes with Gerry present and like in the car, without him present. He was yet to make any progress in twenty years though. Mary again insisted she wouldn't leave him, though ultimately accepting as she always did that Gerry was a bit soft sometimes.
Getting out of the car once they were back, Mary noticed Orla running out to see them. Orla who should have been at Michelle's house… Orla who had her bow and arrows.
"Why aren't ya at Michelle's?" Mary put her hands on her hips, not giving Orla a chance to say anything.
"Ach Aunt Mary, I've got something to show ye!"
"That's great Orla love". Mary smiled sweetly… for about a millisecond. "But I'll be showin' ye the wooden spoon if ye don't answer my question".
"Don't be so hard on her Mary". Joe spoke in Orla's defence. "If she wants to show us, then yer question can wait. Go on Orla".
Beaming in appreciation at her Granda, Orla beckoned them to the spot behind Gerry's car, turning them away from the house entirely. She was doing her job perfectly, even if she didn't quite realise the point or how effective it was.
"Ye see that pigeon on Jim's roof".
Joe nodded and Mary stared at her in disbelief. And then at Joe with this same disbelief on registering his acceptance of her comment.
"Orla ye can't shoot the pigeon!"
"I'm not going to Aunt Mary; I'm just pointing out the pigeon that's all. What I wanted to show ye, was that I reckon I could hit that gnome on Jim's wall".
"Ye can't do that either!" Mary sneered.
"It's only his fourth favourite gnome Mary, he won't mind if Orla uses it for a bit of target practice".
Putting the arrow in place, Orla began to get the right focus for the task at hand. She hadn't practiced with the bow since September and was at risk of being rusty and missing her shot. Not helping her concentration was Mary's renewed efforts to prevent the impromptu target practice from taking place, focusing her fire on Joe rather than Orla.
"What sort of example is that setting da? Mary questioned. "Hmmm? That ye can go around with a bow and shoot anything or anyone ye like?"
"Wise up Mary, she's having a bit of fun".
"Aye and when that bow is a gun and that gnome is a wee lad or lass, will ye be saying the same then?"
Orla struggled to keep her mind on the task. The little green gnome with its bright red hat smiled at her from across the street. She felt sorry for the poor wee fella, who would be destroyed by her shot. Maybe I should name him before I shoot him…
What's a good name for a gnome?...
Terrance
I'll call him Terrance
Terrance the gnome might have been facing the end of his service, but the Lord was on his side when it came to time because Orla held her bow in a drawn position whilst Mary and Joe continued to argue furiously about the stunt. Mary's arguments devolved into the wider meaning of Orla having a weapon and the symbolisation of it in the time of the troubles. Young kids prancing about the streets with dangerous weapons created a poor image in her mind, but Joe brushed it off as harmless fun. His argument was that in the hands of someone who didn't have any malicious intent to use it, Orla was almost mocking the whole situation but positively. She could be out attacking people with it but instead she was taking a few gnomes out.
Orla didn't really know either way. Uncle Gerry told her to stall them for as long as she could and as far as she was concerned, she was doing a grand job.
The dream concocted around the blissful experience of making love for the first time always suggested the experience to be sweet and romantic to Erin. Trying to ram your stained sheets into the washing machine in a blind panic when your mother might return at any second didn't appear in the dream sequence. She'd never had the nightmare surrounding the first time but if she had, she reckoned this would have been a part of it. James too, using ever bit of muscle he had, was trying to force the sheet in, but the damned thing wouldn't go. If they done as Gerry suggested to them before coming down and folded it neatly, like they'd done with their clothes earlier that morning, then it certainly would have been better. But in their youthful carelessness they didn't heed his words and now they had a real problem on their hands.
"Bloody thing won't budge". James winced in pain as he pushed again.
Further concerted efforts from the two of them plus additional assistance from Clare still wouldn't get the sheet into the machine.
"It won't fit!" Erin shrieked hysterically.
"I hope that's the first time you've said that today". Michelle piped up from the living room.
The three of them scoffed disgustedly at her in turn, Michelle giggling away and feeling very proud of herself at the comment. She might have to accept it as the new normal, but she'd be damned if she couldn't land a few jabs in here and there. It wouldn't be right any other way.
"We should have listened to Gerry". James sighed.
"Maybe next time the two of you should plan things… ye know… like sensible people!" Clare hissed.
"There won't be a next time if this sheet doesn't get in that machine!" Erin snapped back.
Gerry picked the right moment to return downstairs from his own task, disposing of the bagged-up condom, and noted the argument between the friends. He knew they wouldn't follow his instructions; it was very rare that anyone in the house listened to him or acknowledged his authority. On spotting him walking towards the kitchen, Clare sprinted off back into the living room to get as far away from the chaotic scene as she could. None of them quite understood her motive for doing so but any attempt to rationalise the thought process of a fretting Clare Devlin was a fool's errand.
"Daddy!" Erin cried out in relief. "We've tried to…".
"Did ye fold it up like I said". He cut off her whimpering.
"Well we may have tri…".
"So ye didn't?"
"I'm not saying that…".
"So ye did?"
"No, we didn't Gerry. We were stupid and we didn't listen".
James bit the bullet to stop Erin's befuddling attempt at deceiving her father when it came to his question and Gerry smiled at his honesty. If they weren't under such time pressure, he was sure he would have burst out into laughter at the adorably hapless attempt at trying to get the sheet in the machine. But if Mary came in to find him laughing at it, he would be in the machine with it so a smile was the limit he could push to.
"I'll teach you a trick". He flapped his fingers, parting the two so he could stand directly in front of it. "My father actually taught me this trick. If in doubt, kick the bastard".
Gerry's father taught him well as one big boot from him took the sheet into the machine, where James, Erin and Clare's attempts at pushing it through failed. A hopelessly easy, if unconventional technique. The happy couple couldn't quite believe that after minutes of frantic barging and ramming, that a simple kick would have done the trick.
"Thank you Daddy". Erin breathed a sigh of relief.
"Next time, what will ye do?" Gerry grinned as he put the question across.
"Listen to my Daddy when he tells me what to do". Erin answered serenely.
"Kick the bastard". James sniggered.
Gerry slapped the young Englishman's shoulder and for the first time, with Mary and Joe still kept at bay by Orla, the three of them all laughed together. At the pure stupidity of what the couple had done that morning and how Gerry allowed it to happen… or rather ensured it would happen. James and Erin began to move through to the living room, but Erin squeezed his arm to bring him to halt as she had one final question for her father.
"Daddy, how did ye disp-".
"SHIT! They're coming in!"
Clare's screeching put pay to any answer that Erin might have received from Gerry as they entered the next phase of the panic. They'd not had time to get their stories correlated and agree on a firm structure of how the morning had gone and why Erin's sheets were in the wash. The kids all looked to Gerry again to guide them in what to do.
"Go, all of you just go and for Christ's sake keep Orla's mouth shut".
The four of them made beelines for the front door, grabbing their coats on the way and desperately zipping them up before Mary and Joe made it through the door.
"Michelle". Gerry called, the young Mallon turning around to see a bottle opener flying through the air at her.
"Thanks Gerry". She said as it landed in her open palms.
She couldn't leave the house without what she came for otherwise Mary would never believe their presence at the house stemmed from an innocent reason. And she would have to go and buy one for the party too. Not ideal with the budget she held.
The front door creaked open and it was Mary who appeared first, Orla over her shoulder and Joe bringing up the rear a few steps behind.
"I'm telling ye Aunt Mary, I reckon I'm the next Robin Hood".
"Yer not Robin H-". Mary stopped upon seeing the four jacketed kids, who all look terrified that she'd walked through the door. "What's all this?"
"Needed a bottle opener Mary". Michelle held up the item she'd only been in possession of for a few seconds. "And I need a bit more help with the house, so I came to get Erin and dickface".
"We're heading out now Mammy, I'll see ye later". Erin said to her mother as she brushed past.
The other three followed suit, James directly behind his girlfriend, Michelle holding the bottle opener into the small of his back with Clare trying to hide behind her at the back to avoid Mary's gaze.
"Come on Orla". Erin beckoned her cousin to follow.
"But what abo- WHAM BAR!"
Michelle's quick thinking prevented another case of Orla being too truthful for her own good and they were soon out onto the path, eyed suspiciously by Joe as he followed their every move. He didn't like the way they just ran for it from the house and how terrified they all looked to see them returning. He knew who to blame too.
"Don't worry love". Gerry's sudden appearance got the attention of Mary and unfortunately Joe. "I've read them the riot act already about drinking".
For Gerry, this is where the show began. The first lie of multiple that would appear within the next few minutes of his dramatic retelling of that morning. The complete rubbish of a story he'd created with his own head from the moment he was forced to take a day off work just to babysit the two. If Mary never overlooked the small details when it came to planning and executing their day to day lives, it was Gerry who held the creative flair. He knew Erin got that ability from him rather than her mother.
"Ach great". Joe sneered. "A wasted morning and ye come home and what did ye find… a waste of a man".
"Thanks Joe".
"Don't thank me ye lazy tool".
"That's enough!" Mary intervened as ever. "The pair of ye".
If he wasn't focused upon protecting Erin and James, Gerry would have taken offence at Mary telling him off for the very one-sided mudslinging match in the hallway. Joe was the one hurling insults but it would take a much braver, and also much stupider, man to tell Mary that she was wrong. No man was required to do such a task.
"There's tea for ye in the kitchen love".
"Thanks love". Mary leant forward and kissed him on the cheek, Gerry looking over her shoulder to see Joe's thunderous eyes looking back at him.
"Have ye got lunch ready yet?" Joe enquired aggressively.
"No Joe. Strangely my crystal ball went missing last week and I've not been able to see into the future since".
"Are you getting smart with me ye clown faced shite?". Joe quipped. "I've got my eye on you boy. Always remember that".
Moving through to the kitchen behind Mary, Gerry shivered at Joe's reminder of exactly how the land lied between them. There was no point in dreaming of a day when Joe would soften towards him, the fire in that ideal dying many years ago and he would forever deal with the guns being pointed at him and the snarky comments whenever anything went wrong. Be it his fault or not. It spoke volumes to him that the only times Joe ever showed any compassion his way was at any tragic news stories or when he was under the influence of drugs from the 'funny scones'.
"Why is Erin's sheet in the wash?"
Gerry knew it wouldn't be long until Mary discovered the washing and the next set of lies would be required the moment he returned to the kitchen. All he had to do was get through the afternoon and it would be clear sailing for Erin and James, the secret staying between him and the rest of the gang.
"Ach well love, it's funny ye should ask because it's quite an amusing story…".
Valentine's Day was always a busy day for Sarah. The moment the doors opened she was busy, and her lunch break came just in time; she was out on her feet. Her normal spot on the bench outside the centre wasn't taken like it had been the day before, so she sat down and began eating the sandwich she'd bought from the shop. The sun's fleeting appearance brightened the day for a couple of minutes before it scuttled back behind the clouds.
"Hello there Ms McCool".
Sarah glanced up from the packed sandwich to see a very unexpected face that the voice belonged to. Antony Scanlon.
"Ach Antony it's yourself".
"Aye". He smiled
"Sit down". She beckoned him over to the spot next to her.
Sarah hadn't seen Antony Scanlon for four years. It was no surprise for her when she learnt of his arrest in Belfast and subsequent imprisonment. He was never a lad to stay away from trouble, a family trait that she first discovered from being at school with his aunt. The light fingers existed at every level of that family, but the violent streak seemed to only possess itself within the older brother of the current generation from what she could see. But she'd also known him to be kind and caring and still owed him for what he'd done for her years before.
"I have to say I'm surprised so I am, I thought ye were still inside the wee jail". She started. "I didn't think you'd come back ye know".
Antony smiled and allowed himself to chuckle at her statement. He'd only been vaguely aware of Sarah McCool for many years, his aunt knew her a little, but they were never really friends. That all changed one day ten years before when the then seventeen-year-old Antony truly crossed paths with her. One of the best parts of his life.
"I was always coming back Ms McCool. Derry's me home so it is…". His voice trailed off as he took in the sights and smells of a city centre that he was only just adjusting to again.
"How's ye ma?"
"She's grand Ms McCool-".
"Ach come on Antony love, ye know ye can call me Sarah".
A part of him jumped for joy that despite everything he'd done over the years, her view of him and their relationship remained unchanged. He let out a breath he'd held since spotting her from across the street minutes earlier.
"How's yer wee Orla then Sarah?"
"She's not so wee now Antony!" She joked. "Cracker she is, she's right into Step Aerobics now ye know Ant and it keeps her happy, so it does".
Hearing that Orla was enjoying her life also gave him some satisfaction. He remembered the little girl that even at such a young age, was the spit of her mother in the way she acted. Never shy of confidence but lacking in common sense, he remembered the time spent with her with both fondness and sadness. He doubted Orla remembered him though, it having been so long ago.
"That's grand Sarah, she's a good girl is yer Orla. And what about Joe and the rest of the family?"
"Nothing changes there Ant, me Da's the same as ever. Still trying to convince Mary to leave Gerry, you remember how it was?"
He remembered very well. It was still amusing to him this day, the lengths that Joe would go to convince his daughter to ditch her supposedly troublesome husband. And he'd only seen it for the briefest period of time; he couldn't imagine what years of it would be like.
"And how's their wain? The little feisty one"
"Ha well she's still got the spirit of her mother has our Erin". She smiled sweetly to him. "Got herself a fella now as well. English lad would ye believe".
"Ah is that the English fella our Danny's mentioned. Michelle Mallon's cousin?"
"Aye that's him, James. I thought for ages he was… gay…". She dropped to a whisper. "… but our Erin's all over him so she is. And he's a nice fella for an English".
A nice English fella. Antony was yet to meet one in his life but he'd never known Sarah to be a liar so the lad must have been somewhat alright. Not that it mattered…he was English and that was what everyone saw.
"Aye Danny said the wee English fella was living with Michelle. They still up at same place?"
"That they are Ant. So is yer Danny seeing Michelle then?"
"Early days yet Sarah but he's keen!" Antony chortled, Sarah doing the same in turn. "I've got to get going now but it's nice to see ye. I've missed friendly faces".
"Good to see ye too Ant".
Sarah leant forward and hugged him, and he appreciated the gesture, wrapping his arms around her back.
The smile on his face was uncontrollably wide.
"And why did ye let Anna have her juice upstairs!?"
Gerry was met with her full fury about the juice-stained sheets and the explanation for just how they'd managed to get into that state. He expected her to be angry about it. Mary had told him a few times in the past to not let Anna have her juice upstairs and he'd disobeyed her instructions on the matter. Joe likewise tutted his frustration, a fairly tame rebuke for him. The important thing for Gerry was that Mary fully bought the total fabrication of why the sheets were really in the wash, even if it meant he was getting an earful for it. Erin and James would escape with nothing and that only made him smile.
"Erin wanted to play with her and… ye did say to keep an eye on them".
"You blamin' my Mary?!" Joe immediately jumped in.
Gerry looked to Mary who seemed to be going down the same line of thinking as her father and as per usual, he was outnumbered.
"I'm not saying that Joe".
"Sounds like it…ye prick".
Mary didn't say anything and instead got up to make another cup of tea. A silence then occupied the kitchen for the next few minutes. Joe settled in and read his paper, occasionally laughing or grimacing depending on the story he was reading. Gerry tried to think of something to ease the tension that had built from the moment the two of them returned from their indifferent trip to Omagh. It was Valentine's Day after all and except the card and flowers he'd given Mary the moment she roused, he wasn't planning to do anything else. Most of the time they tried to do anything as a couple it would end up with one of the others tagging along, or sometimes with all of them. Getting time alone together was exceptionally rare but it wasn't impossible and he dared to dream in his head.
"Are you alright to have Anna tonight Joe?" Gerry broke the silence to address his father in-law.
From behind his paper, Joe began to scowl the moment the southern bastard opened his voice. A natural reaction for him whenever that despicable sound entered his conscience. Why the hell should I be watching the wain?
"A little hard of hearing there Joe?" Gerry jested dangerously. "I said are-".
"I heard ye the first time!" Joe threw his paper down onto the table in disgust. "Why aren't you watching her tonight. Yer her father ye lazy shite".
"Me and Mary are going out for dinner tonight Joe, so we need someone to watch Anna".
Mary dropped the spoon, not the infamous wooden one thank god, straight onto the floor upon hearing her husband speak. She wasn't sure what had gotten into him, because he was dreaming up a dinner they were supposedly going on and recklessly telling Joe about it. Gerry must have been high as a kite to be spouting such ridiculousness to Joe, the very man who would slit Gerry's throat given the chance. Her own reaction did little to help her, immediately revealing to the wise Joe that he was making up their dinner date.
"Ya know about this love?" Joe shifted around to meet her eyes.
"Ach… erm… no. No I didn't Da".
"Right". Joe seethed under his breath. "I see yer game here, ye dirty short-arsed fecker. Luring my Mary out to some deserted house to get her pregnant again. I'm gunna rip yer-".
"Da!" Mary stopped his rage with a hand on his shoulder. "I think Gerry meant it to be a surprise, didn't ye?"
Softening on his wife coming to his aid this time, Gerry smiled and nodded a confirmation to her question. Putting a smile on her face was always a delight for him, even after so many years of the love they shared together.
"A little Valentine's Day surprise".
Mary moved over to him and leant down to give him a sweet kiss, reminiscent of their first kiss together under the streetlights at the city walls. Short but neat, expressing their love together within a few sweet seconds instead of eating the faces off of each other and having their hands roam their bodies wildly.
"OI! Ye get yer hands off my Mary!"
The two of them laughed at Joe for once, who reacted by slamming his fist onto the table, knocking Gerry's mug onto the floor and smashing it. Mary's blood pressure went through the roof as the pieces broke apart all over the floor and scattered like a flock of birds. Gerry wasn't as angry and the creative plans that he'd lived by that day added a final extension to their well-rounded bow. Once the idea got into his head, it was game over for Joe.
"Ye better get that cleaned up Da or I will have ye out on yer ear!"
"I beg ye-"
"Wait. I'll get it picked up for ye love". Gerry held up a hand to stop Joe, who'd began to shout. "But only if Joe has Anna for the evening".
Joe anticipated Gerry's tactic the moment he opened his mouth but without a convincing argument to avoid both babysitting and picking the broken mug up, he had to concede one way or the other. And he'd take the precious time with his granddaughter over the exhausting search for every last piece of the mug. It became even more frustrating to him that Sarah had finally decided the night before to go to the single's night she'd be on about for weeks. Flitting between going and not going, they'd not heard the end of it for so long and now Joe wished she'd have forgotten about it because it left him as the only one to look after Anna.
"One day Gerry, I'm going to take ye to a big field and just feckin shoot ye".
Gerry took that as a yes.
After escaping the clutches of her mother, and to some extent Granda Joe, Erin found herself waking with her head on James's lap on the Mallon's sofa. They'd fallen asleep at some point that afternoon, having helped put the finishing details to the house ahead of the party. A house that would soon be crammed full of energetic youngsters, chilling out and having the time of their lives on Valentine's Day. Erin considered her day to have peaked much earlier and the party came as a mere afterthought to the main event of her day. It would never hold the significance of what had happened that morning. Opening her eyes, she found the mystical green irises that captivated her starring down and that familiar lopsided grin lying ready in wait. She could also feel the hand stroking her hair and occasionally brushing the top of her head.
"Hello sleepy". He grinned.
"Mmmm". She stirred. "What time is it?"
"Only about half five". He chuckled.
Half five… half five! Erin quickly calculated in her head that by the time they'd finished helping the others and had something to eat it must have been three and she sat down not long after so… she'd been asleep for over two feckin hours!
"Catch yourself on!" She shot up but found herself pushed back down by his left hand.
"Relax. I've not long woke up myself". James smiled and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. "Almost as if we've both needed to rest".
He was teasing her now and she knew it. And she absolutely loved it. His lopsided grin grew improbably wider, the cue for her to pull his head down and kiss him furiously. After an initial offer of resistance, James couldn't hold out for any longer and just let her devour him from her position on his lap. Within a few seconds they were moving again, James shuffling around from his seated position and covering Erin, their lips never parting. He couldn't care one bit if the others returned from their brief excursion to the shops on Orla's insistence that they needed more sweets. He couldn't care if Aunt D-
"Ahem!"
James suddenly could care if Aunt Deidre walked in on the two of them rolling about on the sofa and seeing exactly where his hands were. Erin practically kneed him in the crotch to get him to roll off, James smashing into the floor a second later, hearing Deidre's snort from the other side. Erin's face was beetroot red and she quickly grabbed a cushion to hide her face from his aunt, whilst James got up from the floor to meet her face to face.
"Look James, I've no problem with the two of ye being together, but I won't have ye giving Erin a chest examination on my sofa!"
Feeling the burning sensation in her cheeks rise from beneath the cushion, Erin didn't dare remove it to see the face on Deidre. She would let James take the flack for this one; it was his house and his aunt.
"I…"
"Ach quit yer blubbering James, I've got to get to work".
"MOTHERFUCKERSSSSSSSSSSS".
Erin did pull the cushion away when she heard Michelle's voice, eyeing James with an inquisitive look upon hearing her familiar phrase. She knew Michelle would shout it everywhere else when she'd turn up, but she never expected her to shout it when going back to her own house. She could also feel Deidre's wince behind her, and James confirmed with a roll of his eyes that it wasn't the first time Michelle had shouted their house down with it.
"What have I said about that Michelle!" Deidre shouted in return.
"Sorry Ma". A very unconvincing apology spluttered out of her mouth.
James and Erin got to their feet and were shocked to find a fourth figure accompanying the gang. And a fella at that. He was a tall lad, marginally taller than James but towering over Clare who stood in front of him. His build was far more muscular than James and his hair far shorter. James took note of the tattoo that ran across his neck and onto the side of his face, a strange but quite threatening look for a lad of their age. Most perplexing of all was the way Erin grabbed his hand and squeezed it so tightly that he could feel his fingers aching under the pressure. Whoever this lad was, Erin was petrified of him.
"Ma, this is…".
"I don't care Michelle. I'm off to work. And if I come in and find this place trashed and with drunk kids all over the floor, then ye better get yer spot at the cemetery reserved because you'll be in there first thing".
"Yes Ma". Michelle murmured as her mother walked past her, offering no gesture to the lad by her side nor the rest of the gang.
They waited for Deidre to leave, giving James the time to whisper to Erin, Michelle watching the two of them with an ounce of suspicion. She never trusted them when they started whispering behind the group's back. They did everything together and they talked to each other about everything, so the need for secrecy could only mean it involved her. But after her outburst earlier in the day, Michelle found herself wanting when it came to criticising the two of them or saying anything derogatory at all.
"You two". Michelle eventually found the right words. "I'd like ye to meet Danny".
Unbeknownst to Michelle, James already knew who he was thanks to his whisper to Erin and her subsequent answer. He wanted to find out exactly why Erin was suddenly terrified by the lad's presence and James needed to know if dealing with him would be necessary. Even if Danny was far more muscular and a bit taller than him, absolutely no one made his Erin feel vulnerable and afraid. And anyone who dared would be dealt with.
"Danny this is Erin". Michelle pointed out, Erin sending the lad a shy smile without making any prolonged eye contact. "And that there is the dickhead of an English cousin of mine who she's fallen in love with".
"Ye must be James". Danny held out his hand to greet him.
"Yes. Nice to meet you". James accepted the diplomatic handshake.
"He doesn't seem like that much of a dick Michelle". Danny looked back at her. "Got a good handshake on ye as well".
For the second time that week James found his ability to shake hands complimented, finding it strange that of all of his features, it was his handshake that people liked. Well certain other features were liked by Erin but that was different…
"Must be hard for ye…". Danny continued after the gesture. "…Sharing the house with this mouthy one".
"Oi!" Michelle smacked him on the arm, a gruff laugh being sent her way in reply.
"I get by". James chuckled. "How come you're here so early, I didn't think you would be with us until later this evening?"
"Well, if I'm going to be seeing more of Michelle, I need to learn the best routes to walk her home on don't I."
"And we needed help carrying the sweets". Orla pointed out.
James nodded to them both but still felt uncomfortable about how much force Erin was applying to his hand. The others moved on through to the kitchen after a couple of seconds, Clare sharing James's worried look at Erin's reaction, indicating fears of her own. James had heard about the Scanlon's the day before in the car but being the epitome of not judging a book by its cover, he'd reserved judgement on any of them before meeting them. But with the fright it put into Erin, he didn't need any more proof to know they couldn't be trusted… even if Michelle thought otherwise.