Oh no - I've done it again, I've completely neglected you all and been really lax with my writing - sorry!
We've met the friends, it's time to meet the family - or Shelagh's at least it will be Patrick's next time! Thank you all for your fab reviews, they mean so much to me and love each and every one!
This chapter's song is Whisky in the jar by Thin Lizzy.
Enjoy and please continue to review!
As I was going over the Cork and Kerry mountains, I saw Captain Farrell and his money he was counting. I first produced my pistol and then produced my rapier, I said: Stand or deliver or the devil he may take you!Patrick grabbed his mobile off the kitchen table, without checking the screen he pressed the call button.
"Hello?"
"Hello – Patrick?"
"Kathy, how are you?"
"Oh not too bad, you and Tim?"
"We're fine, sorry to be rude – but I'm right in the middle of cooking Tim's tea so …"
"Of course, sorry I hadn't seen the time. Well I was just wondering what you and Tim we're doing for next weekend, I haven't seen either of you since Christmas, I thought it might be nice to see you for Sunday lunch?"
"Oooh, umm do you know I'm not sure if I'm on duty this Sunday … let me check my diary after tea and I'll get back to you in a while alright?"
"Yes of course, well bye for now."
"Bye … Bye!" Placing the phone back on the table, Patrick walked slowly back towards the cooker and bent down to check the fish fingers. He knew he wasn't on duty that Sunday, but he wasn't overly keen on seeing his sister in law at the moment, as much as he liked Kathy, she had been a pillar of strength when Clair had died – she had even offered to help him look after Tim when he had been struggling, and yet as Clair's sister what was he meant to say about Shelagh. On the one hand was he meant to keep it quiet until the two of them were in a proper committed "Lets move in and get married and share toothpaste" relationship, but then – to get to that stage you had to go through the "almost moved in, meet the family, I know where you keep your spare toilet roll" stage, and that was almost - he hoped - the stage that he and. She should be told of course she should but what was he meant to say?
"Hi Dad, you alright?"
"Oh I'm fine, how's my wee bairn?"
"I'm good thanks."
"You're not busy are you?"
"Umm – I'm on duty, but I'm on my break – what can I do for you?"
"Ah – can't an old man telephone his daughter for a chat?"
"Yes – but you don't, you hate idle chatter, you've told me enough times Dad!"
"Oh alright, I'm coming down this weekend to London and you know how much I hate hotels – I wondered if I could stay with you in the flat."
"There's only the sofa bed you know Dad, are sure you wouldn't prefer a hotel?"
"Och no, the sofa'll be fine for me."
"Why are you coming down anyway – not that it won't be lovely to see you!"
"Ha – charmer, no an old army pal of mine's funeral – down in the Big Smoke and I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone and visit you too."
"Actually Dad, it might be quite good timing … there's someone I'd like you to meet … a man …"
"A man?"
"Yeah a man, a man called Patrick."
"A man called Patrick eh? And this man called Patrick – will he …"
"Will he what Dad?"
"Will he … be calling me Daddy anytime soon?" A throaty laugh came down the line,
"Oh right that's it, I'm hanging up now – bye Dad!"
"No no love – I'm just joking, will I like him?"
"you'll want to marry him yourself."
"He must be good then, well I look forward to meeting this man called Patrick then. I'll get my usual train on Friday night if that's alright?"
"Oh that's fine – I'll prepare Patrick. Bye now Dad."
"Bye love." hanging up her mobile Shelagh gave a smile at her father, since she had moved down to London she didn't see as much of him as she would have liked, so she was happy, happy that she could see him again after far too long, and even happier that he was going to meet Patrick without her having to drag him and Tim up to Aberdeen.
*Hi – just had a call from my Dad, he's coming down on Fri – wants to meet you. X*
*Funny you should say that – C's sister just asked me over for Sunday lunch x*
*She wants to meet me?! X*
*She doesn't know about you – didn't know how to say it X*
*She'll have to know at some point x*
*I'll tell her tonight – are you maybe free Sun?*
*On nights – so ish – but I can do lunch X*
*Sure? X*
*Sure – what a weekend! X*
*Ha – T will be happy! X*
You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you. I picked you out, I shook you up and turned you around. Turned you into someone new.
"Oh you have got to be joking – the first time I let you drive me anywhere and this bloody song comes on!"
"It's fate – see everyone apart from you likes this song."
"Remind me again why I've let you behind the wheel?"
"Trust me, this is so much easier, my Dad's a bit of a backseat driver and you'll want to throttle him in the first 2 minutes if you drive – I'm well trained in putting up with it."
"He can't be that bad?"
"Want a bet? Just you wait."
"What time's his train getting in?"
"Half nine, he always gets the night train so he can sleep – he hates trains."
"Why he doesn't he drive then?"
"He hates driving – he just thinks he's better at it to everyone else, right – hang on, if I just pull up here and ring him I'll find out where he is. Turn down the radio a second …"
"Blimey you don't want much do you – anything else I can get you?"
"No – I'm done with your services for now." With a smile Shealgh pulled her mobile out and pushed her glasses up to sit on her head, with a chuckle Patrick turned away to look out the steamed up window. "What are you laughing at Dr Turner?"
"You – and your old woman glasses!"
"Oh stop it – they are not old woman glasses – think Barbara Good in the Good life."
"I think they're lovely … and make you look like Ronnie Corbet."
"You are a terrible boyfriend … Hi Dad! Hey yeah we're just pulled up outside the station … OK … how long do you think … alright then so I can't stay here or I'll have a traffic warden biting my head off, so I'll be waiting at the top end of Gordon street … just round the corner from Euston yeah – Just come out the front and it's on the left – over Euston road – OK see you in five … bye!"
"So – Sunday? Kathy's Sunday lunch."
"What about it?"
"Well, you know – how are you feeling about it?"
"It'll be fine, we'll be fine – I mean … do you think there'll be a problem?"
"No … well … maybe? I don't know – Kathy and Clare were always close and I just worry that she might -" Patrick was interrupted by a knock on the window, both jumped and turned towards their intruder, facing them was a slim man in his 50's with short grey hair in a kagool over a pair of faded cords. Opening the door Shelagh jumped out and pulled the man into a tight embrace,
"Dad! How was your journey?"
"Och you know – much as always."
"Patrick – this is my Dad …"
"Michael McDonald, how do you do." Said the man, extending a hand across the driving seat to Patrick,
"Patrick Turner – it's a pleasure, I'll get your bag."
"Oh no need – pop the boot Shelagh love." having pushed his suitcase into the boot Michael McDonald seated himself behind his daughter and the trio pulled out from the side road. There was an awkward silence between them until Michael broke the silence, "So – Patrick, what is it you do for a living?"
"I'm a doctor – I work with Shalagh in maternity, she's one of the best midwives I've ever worked with." with a smile Shelagh turned to face Patrick slightly, before turning back to face the road.
"I can fair believe that, she's a good girl, eyes on the road Shelagh … so how long have you been doing that?" Patrick understood the subtext to the question, he knew what Michael McDonald was trying to ask, averting Shelagh's gaze he inhaled slowly.
"Since I graduated from Trinity Dublin really … far longer ago than I care to remember."
"Ahh – so you're Irish?"
"No no, my wife was Irish … we met in London while I was doing my first degree but married in Dublin while I was training to be a doctor."
"You've been married before? Slow down Shelagh – I can see the camera."
"Uh yes I have been married before, I'm sorry to say that I lost my wife about 4 years ago."
"I am sorry to hear that, truly … do you have children?"
"A son -"
" -Tim," Interrupted Shelagh, acutely aware that her father, although kind and gentle by nature, was also a fiercely protective man when it came to his three children, and that if she didn't intervene then his line of questioning would only get more intrusive. "his name's Tim, he's great, a credit to Patrick."
"Glad to hear it, so you're not raising a little hooligan between the two of you then?"
"No we're not I'm glad to say." Replied Patrick, turning in his seat to face Shelagh with a smile, who blushed and pulled out from the t-junction.
*Just picked up the boy from school – what time do you want us? X*
*7? Will Tim hold off eating till then? X*
*Ha – I'll hold him at gun-point so he does – 7 is it x*
*Great, see you then x*
"OK mate – we're going to get to Shelagh's for about 7ish, alright by you?"
"Yeah – can I have something to eat now?"
"No, I promised Shelagh I'd hold you off till we get to hers."
"Can we carry on watching the Sherlock DVD then?"
"I suppose – but only one, I want a shower before we set off. Where did we leave them last time?"
"The one with the naked woman is – it's the Hounds of the Baskerville now."
"Have you ever thought about reading the books? They're good – I could buy them for you."
"I don't know if I'm good enough yet, Mandy's still got me on little kids books, they're shit!"
"Tim – language please."
"You swear."
"And I am old and corrupted already, it's too late for me – you're still young, there's still time for you to end up a better person than me."
"Swearing doesn't make you a bad person, look at John Barrowman."
"Oh God – you're your mothers' son alright. So what's wrong with the books that Mandy's getting you to read?"
"They're just little kids books – I mean like I get that I need to start somewhere, but I want proper stuff to read, not books about magic keys."
"The Sherlock Holmes books are short, I mean there's that going for them, and if you enjoy the show then maybe you'll like the books."
"Aren't they a bit like old fashioned?"
"Holmes is a heroin addict – so it's basically it's the Wire circa 1890."
"Really? He's on heroin?!"
"Yeah, well it's opium – it's how he unwinds. I mean it was all legal until something like the 1920's."
"Really!"
"Mmm – it was a hay-fever cure and stuff like that for ages."
"Wow – that's so weird. Right – can I stick the DVD in?"
"Yeah go for it mate."
Shelagh poured out the larger into two glasses and handed them to Michael and Patrick, while she nodded Tim toward the fridge,
"Help yourself Tim, you know where everything is. So how are you two boys then?"
"Oh fine, me and Tim were just watching the Sherlock DVD."
"Ahh Jeremy Brett?" said Michael.
"No no – the new one, with Benedict whatshisface."
"Cumberbatch."
"That's the one love, it's good – filmed in Cardiff you know?"
"Mmm – like Doctor who and Torchwood."
"Yes – Tim wants to go to the Doctor who centre thing in Cardiff."
"I can't understand why they'd film so many things in Wales, it seems like such an odd place to me." Added Michael, taking a sip of his beer,
"Well I suppose It's got everything you need; major cities, countryside, sea-side, quarries, and relatively quiet – perfect for filming I'd imagine." replied Shelagh,
"Mmm."
"Dad still hasn't forgiven Wales, after he met a rude Welshman on holiday in Edinburgh one year!"
"He wasn't just rude Shelagh – he was a terrible man – you know he said that George Lazenby was a better James Bond than Sean Connery!"
"… Blimey – he sounds awful!" replied Patrick with a laugh, before the silence in the room quelled his laughter and he buried his face in his larger.
Shelagh collected up the plates, and started through to the kitchen with the pile,
"I'll give you a hand love."
"I'd rather you didn't." said Michael sat behind at the table, he took a sip of his drink and gave Patrick a small smile nodding towards his chair,
"Tim, why don't you give me a hand with the dishes … I've got some more squash if you want?"
"Thanks." watching his son and girlfriend walk into the kitchen, as she turned to shoot Patrick a supportive smile, he sat himself back down and turned slowly to face Michael McDonald. "So – you wanted me?"
"I wanted to speak with you yes. About Shleagh."
"Yes I imagined you might … I know that I'm older than her and that you might not -"
"Ach stop your havering, it's not that I care about. What I do care about mind is that my bairn is happy, and I want to make sure that she is. See?"
"I do, I mean … did you want to know about me? My … uh … prospects?"
"Do I look like a Jane Austin? Haud your weesht lad, prospects? I want to know that you'll make her happy, I dinnae care about how much you earn or if you have debts. I ken you lost your wife, and I ken that you'll want what's best for your wee lad … and I want to be sure that my Shelagh is the woman for you, someone you love and someone you'll protect … and that she's not a replacement for your late wife."
"Clare? No, she's not a replacement for Clare – I never imagined that I'd ever fall for anyone ever again, let alone have someone as clever and kind and intelligent as Shelagh fall for me. It took me quiet by surprise, and I can promise you that me and Tim went along well before she came into my life, and we'll carry on going along well now that she has. I can't promise you that she'll always be happy with me, but I'll do my best."
"Do you think you'll live happily ever after?"
"No, I think we'll muddle along buggering things up like every-one else."
"Well at least she's fallen in love with a realist – there's hope for us yet!"