Good Evening everyone,
Another chapter, I suppose it's a chapter 11 part 2 because this is where Shelagh meets Kathy, Patrick's sister in law.
I wanted to get some writing out of the way, because I'm up to my ears in paperwork and shifts for the next week – so it may be a little while before we have the next instalment – which is why you've had two chapters close together!
I hope you're all still enjoying the story – it still means so much to me whenever I get an email saying I've got a review. You're all so lovely for doing – and please do continue, you've all been so positive about this fan-fic which is amaizing. I just write as a hobby between shifts and studying so it's great that you've all enjoyed this one so much!
Hope you like this one!
"Oh, pull yourself together Lewis. You're only young once, and that was a long time ago. I'll buy you a drink; you can bang on about how perfect everything was in your day... When I say "buy you a drink", I should point out that I don't actually have any cash."
Patrick smiled at the tele, draining the last of his mug of tea he settled it down on the table and rested back into the corner of the settee again, his spare arm resting across Shelagh's shoulders as they watched the Lewis repeat.
"Have you seen the seventh series? You know they get together in the end."
"Yeah – they always do in these things, it's like Frost in the last episode with Phyllis whatsherface."
"Logan."
"Mmm and Quincy, didn't he get a girlfriend in the end?"
"Yeah I think a wife … she was a doctor wasn't she, I mean in the series not in real life."
"A wife? Doesn't sound very Quincy-ish to me."
"Some people have odd relationships, marry unlikely people – look at Liza Minelli and David Guest!"
"Jesus were they married?"
"Mmm, and Peter Sellers."
"No? Really? Blimey, gets about a bit doesn't she … do you know that Julie Walters is married to an AA man?"
"As in the Automobile Association or Alcoholics Anonymous?"
"Automobile Association, another brew?"
"No, thanks – I'd best be off home, Dad'll be back from his wake soon and I've got to have a late night today, I'm on nights this week – I need to sleep through tomorrow morning. What time do we need to be at Kathy's tomorrow?"
"About 1-ish, I'll pick you up if you like? Around 11:30? It's about an hour to Gravesend from the east end so that should do it, and then we're not in a rush."
"Perfect, what's Kathy like?"
"Nice, she's nice, louder than Clare ever was – tells you what she thinks without too many qualms, but a kind soul all told. She and Clare moved to England from Dublin when they were in their late teens – early twenties, I think Clare moved over to study at university and Kathy decided to follow so she must have been about 22 or 23 at the time. She married a fairly well off lawyer and moved over to the commuter belt, raised their 2.4 children, drives a Vauxhall -"
"Obviously -"
"Obviously! She's a nice, kind, decent person, not at all like her sister, and not the kind of person I'd want to marry – but some men want a wife who'll drive the kids to school and be … efficient."
"Are you saying that I'm inefficient?"
"No – well you are, but even if you were insanely efficient it's not a quality that I'd … value in a partner, you're intelligent and funny and you're good company -"
"You're making me sound like Labrador! Good Company."
"That wasn't what I mean, you're also obstinate and difficult when you want to be! I just meant that when I'm with you I'm happy and I think that's much better for a relationship than picking a partner based on their ability to arrange the gymkhana around having the neighbours round for dinner."
"I think we can both agree that the day you want me to arrange the gymkhana around a dinner party is the day we both realise the severe limits to my talents. I really do need to go now, reluctantly."
"Tim will be sorry – he says you make better toast than me."
"Toast is toast isn't it?"
"You'd think so … right … good night then Nurse McDonald."
"Goodnight Dr Turner." Pulling her in for a hug, Patrick leant down to give her a kiss, it'd been a long time since he had had that kind of physical closeness to another human being, and it was, he found almost like physiotherapy for a hip-replacement, learning how to love again was hard and time consuming and exhausting, but like taking one's first steps again after surgery it was liberating and joy inducing. Breaking away from her lips, with a smile he said,
"What's a frog's favourite drink?"
"What?"
"What's a frog's favourite drink?"
"I don't know … what?"
"Croaka-Cola!"
"Oh for goodness sake – night Patrick!"
"Night love."
The front door was opened by an efficient woman in green, who scanned the trio stood on her doorstep quickly before she broke into a wide smile that was almost identical to Tim's. Shelagh felt a pang in her chest as she recognised what must be a familial trait of Clare's family, passed onto her son, and it hurt her to see it, if only for a moment before she gathered herself and tried to return the smile.
"Pat, Tim – hello my lovelys! Come in come in! Oh Tim you've grown, my you've grown – Patrick hasn't he grown?!"
"I imagine he has yes, hello Kathy, how are you?"
"Oh grand grand you know me, 374 things to do in the day and still going! You're looking tired, are you getting enough sleep? Ahh – and is this the culprit of those tired eyes? You must be Shelagh, hello my love. Come in come in!"
Slightly overwhelmed by the small dark haired woman with her rolling Dub accent, who pulled all three of them into the hallway of her smart detached house, with its polished brass door knocker and shining black glossed front door. She felt Patrick's hand slip into hers and run his thumb along the side of her hand, she stepped forward, pushing herself slightly into his arm to feel him there, stepping over the threshold she let go of his hand and raised her head to me meet her hostesses eyes.
"Kathy – it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Oh think nothing of it, wouldn't dream of not having you over. I must say you're younger than I expected."
"Shall we go through to the living room!?" Said Patrick quickly, placing his hands on Tim's shoulders and steering him away from the front door,
"Tim, our Jack and Ciaran are upstairs on the x-box, go up and say hello to your cousins! Pat, Shelagh – come on through, I don't know where Mark is – pottering in his shed I suppose, I'll go and get him – did you want tea or coffee?"
"Tea please Kathy."
"Same – white, no sugar please." Kathy strode purposefully out of the lounge and away into the depths of the house, with a sigh Patrick settled himself down on the beige sofa, shifting the artistically arranged scatter cushions away to seat himself back. He looked up at Shelagh who had stayed standing, twisting her hands awkwardly, extending his arm he looped a finger through the belt loop of her jeans and pulled her down back next to him.
"Are you alright love?" He asked gently, sliding an arm around her waist and ran his hand softly against her arm through the fabric of her shirt, Shelagh shifted slightly, twisting round to almost face him.
"I'm fine – she's nice … she looks like Tim."
"… Yes, family resemblance, Tim looks like her boys too. Is that OK?"
"Yeah of course it is, I'm just being daft."
"Shealgh, you're not being daft! You're meeting my late wife's family, this was never going to be easy for you, for us – both of us. Kathy's a bit brash, but if she didn't like you you'd know about it by now. Are you going to be alright?"
"Yeah of course I am … did you bring your cigarttes?"
"Yes … why?"
"Good – I may be calling on your services later on."
Standing outside the back door, their backs to the kitchen window Shelagh slid her hand into Patrick's pocket and pushed her palm flat against his before twisting her fingers in-between his. The click of the lighter broke the Autumnal quiet of the garden, passing her the lit cigarette Patrick placed his own to his lips and inhaled,
"So … better or worse than you thought?"
"Less traumatic I'll give you that – she's nice."
"Told you. And she likes you."
"You told me that and all, and since when have you been Pat?"
"Oh yeah, Irish thing I suppose, Clare did the same … never really thought about it to be honest. Here – did you see Mark? Recognise him?"
"No, was that what that significant look was over the table earlier?"
"Yeah – Mark Dervish."
"Name rings a bell … did he do some high profiled case or something?"
"About … hmmm – six years ago it must be, he got into trouble with the CPS – he was defending this drug-dealing scumbag type, big case but quite dull – didn't make the papers until," he paused to take another drag of his cigarette, "he was found out sleeping with the defendant's 18 year old girlfriend and snorting coke off her naked body in his office. And then it hit the papers."
"Jesus I bet I did – and Kathy knows!? And she doesn't mind?"
"Oh she minded like hell, but she loves him, and he loves her and the kids – it was a midlife crisis of epic proportions!"
"Too right – hey, don't you be getting any ideas, you're not allowed a midlife crisis."
"Arguably you are my mid-life crisis. I think when men my age get themselves a girlfriend your age are defiantly in the midlife crisis category."
"Ha – no, if this was a midlife crisis you'd be riding me about on the back of your Harley Davidson, and I'd have a boob-job."
"Over rated – I'd rather have you as you are."
"Well in that case I'll crack open the pies – see if you'll still have me when I'm old and fat."
"Well you don't need to worry about that – I'll be dead by the time you get to that stage!"
"Oh you need a good slapping you do!"
"I'm lying – you're beautiful – always will be."
"You're not bad yourself Dr Turner." There was a knock on the window behind them as Kathy tried to catch their attention, crushing their cigarettes under their shoes the couple made their way back into the house.
"We're having afters, is crumble alright with you two?"
"Yes – thanks."
"Lovely – love, what time do you need to set off?"
"Oh you're not leaving already are you Shelagh?"
"I'm on nights this week – so I'll be needing a nap before work. Umm – in an hour or so would be good, are you sure you're alright to drive me?"
"Yeah yeah don't worry about it love. I'm just going to pop to the loo." Slipping out of the kitchen, Patrick left Shelagh and Kathy in the kitchen.
"Do you want a hand with the desert Kathy?"
"Oh well you can open that tin of custard, just pop it in the microwave would you – I think there's a jug under the sink."
"Right – under the sink."
"So – how are things with you and Pat?"
"Good I think, we're happy. Really happy, and Tim's a great kid, I'm really lucky to have them in my life."
"So you are, my sister God rest her soul, was a great woman, and she picked a great man. And so have you."
"I'll admit I was worried about meeting you, I was worried about how you'd feel about Patrick and me, I thought maybe you wouldn't approve."
"Oh no, I thought the same, but you're a nice girl Shelagh, I can see why Pat picked you. I'll be honest I didn't think he's ever move on from my sister God rest her soul, he really was traumatised when she passed over. You'll be good for him, you are good for him – I can see that already, he's looking better than he has for the past few years I can tell you that much … if a little tired, I'll assume that that's down to you?!"
"Umm possibly, I stay over quiet often yeah …"
"Well, at least someone in the family looks forward to the evenings at home … sorry. Right, is that custard done?"
"Yeah – I'll carry the bowls shall I?"
"Please, yes thank you Shelagh."