Chapter 1: The Pump Street Inquisition 24th November 1995

Finally. He had escaped Colm's grasp. They would always be brothers, and he'd always love Colm, but any more than thirty seconds with him felt like thirty years. Joe didn't have thirty years to spare. Driving home through the dark streets of Derry, he saw the first Christmas lights up. This year there were more reds, whites and blues due to the news that the President of the United States of America would be visiting the city later the next week. A monumental moment in the peace process, a peace that had been long overdue for years, if not decades. Joe had been there on Bloody Sunday in 72 and if the twenty-three years since had told him anything, it was that bloodshed and bombing had done little to solve the true issues the country faced. A different approach was needed and in that, Bill Clinton's view aligned with his.

When he opened the front door, he arrived at an all too familiar situation.

"GIVE ME THE DIARY BACK ORLA!". Erin shouted

"ERIN!". Her mother shouted at her in turn

"But Ma she's got it AGAIN!".

Orla took advantage of Erin's distraction and darted off towards the stairs, but Erin was soon hot on her heels. Orla's focus on getting distance between herself and Erin had prevented her noticing Granda Joe's arrival and she ran straight into his open arms, diary first.

"Granda!".

"Careful Orla love, ye nearly had me over". He said as he wrapped his arms around her into a bear hug.

They stayed in embrace for a couple of moments before Joe felt Orla's hands wriggling against his coat and then his sides.

"Ach no, I've lost the diary Granda!".

Releasing her from his grasp, Joe watched her turn to see the diary safely back in Erin's hands, with his other granddaughter smiling back at him. He still had a few moves up his sleeve.

"But Granda wha.." Orla turned back, stopping when she looked up to the hand that Joe now held in the air.

"WHAM BAR!". She shouted

Joe always loved to see the delight on Orla's face when he gave her a gift. There had never been, and would never be, an inch of ingratitude from Orla. Especially when it came to a wham bar or a dip dab. That made two happy granddaughters and a happy Joe.

"Erin love, where's ya da?" Joe asked her as he took his coat off and hung it on a peg.

"Watching the news with Auntie Sarah Granda". She pointed her head towards the living room.

"Thanks love".

Erin and Orla scarpered off upstairs, Orla entranced by the wham bar that Joe had given her, and all thoughts of Erin's diary were gone. Walking through towards the living room, he raised a hand to Mary, who was finishing off cleaning the kitchen after dinner. She acknowledged his presence with a tip of the head, too busy concentrating on getting the dishes absolutely perfect like she always did.

"Evening Sarah".

"Evening Da". Sarah replied, sat in the armchair under the window.

There was no greeting for Gerry, who was slouched on the sofa, staring intently at the news about the Clinton's visit on the TV. The TV that thankfully worked again.

"You were a long time at Colm's da". Sarah raised an eyebrow

"Aye I was ye".

"Longer than usual…".

"What is this, the feckin Bill!" Joe loudly protested

"You didn't make any unnecessary stops did ya Da?" She continued to probe, filing her nails. "Like turning up Pump Street, for example…".

Sarah's pitch raising at the name 'pump' was the equivalent of a nail being slowly screeched across wood for Joe. He could feel Mary's eyes on his back too. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought they were telepathic.

"I have not!".

"Even if he had, it's hardly a crime is it now Sarah". Gerry softly interjected

"Keep it shut you". Joe scowled at his intervention.

Sarah gave her father one last look of suspicion before going back to focusing on her nails. Behind them, Mary returned to cleaning the kitchen, satisfied that Joe hadn't been up to any funny business with Maeve again. They all continued where they were for a couple of minutes, Joe eventually grabbing the newspaper and flicking through it. The television moved onto the weather and that bought Joe back from behind the newspaper. It would be a clear day tomorrow, without any wind, although the temperatures would not be particularly high. Not that it bothered Joe too much and he looked over to Gerry with a smile on his face.

"Fecker". He addressed him as adoringly as ever. "Ye hear that. A good day tomorrow so ya can get on that roof and get the Christmas lights up".

Gerry instantly gave him a look of 'Are you insane?'. Mary quickly looked up from the kitchen, ready for the inevitable argument.

"I will not!". Gerry argued. "And even if for whatever stupid bloody reason I did, we don't have any lights for the roof Joe".

"Why do you think I went to Colm's ya dose. I didn't go for the stimulating conversation did I!"

A huff was all that Gerry could manage at Joe's insistence. Gerry sat up from his slouched position and Mary came to join them, perching on the edge of the sofa and looking over to her father.

"Gerry is not putting lights on the roof da. Final".

Joe grumbled at her stamping of authority and sent Gerry a glare when the Southerner had the audacity to grin at him losing the argument. As he slumped back behind the newspaper, Joe hid the smug satisfaction that his face betrayed. Mary and Gerry might have thought that would be the end of the matter, but Joe had other ideas. Sarah had brushed closely to the truth of why he had been so long and it was true that there had been one other stop other than Colm's. Pump Street it had not been, but they didn't need to know where either. Besides, he knew Gerry would be far too cowardly to get up on the roof and do it himself. So there had to be a Plan B.