Chapter 4: 20 minutes away.

Friday, October 24st, 1997: 10:30pm

James and Marco had been talking for the last hour about the Fat Boy Slim concert that was coming up on Halloween night. The tickets were going on sale tomorrow, and the gang were buzzing. The two friends also chatted about the newest movies that were due to be released by the year's end. Sitting in the Mallon living room were Michelle, Erin, and Clare. Orla had been to a dance class so was too tired to come. James and Marco talked about Cop Land, The Devil's Advocate, and L.A Confidential, as well as the recent summer releases; The Game, Men in Black, and Austin Powers. But then, the conversation took a slight detour after Erin and Clare happily embarrassed James by informing Marco that the wee English fella didn't need too much coaxing to go and see Spiceworld; The Movie, which was due out in December; Marco attempted to save James from embarassment, citing that he only wanted to go because he fancied Ginger Spice. Much to Erin's delight, remembering how she'd caught James staring at her a few times when she wore her Ginger Spice outfit for the talent show. But then, James threw himself under the bus and let slip that he was going to book tickets to take Erin to see Titanic when it was released.

"Ach Christ! Look at him! The big fecking romantic going to watch a film about a boat where everyone dies!" Michelle cried out, teasing her cousin.

"Ye not gonna get me raging Michelle, I asked James if he'd take me. It just happens, he wants to see it as well. He's a big fan of Jimmy Cameron." Erin stated.

"…. It's James Cameron, Erin!" Clare corrected her, snorting through her nose.

"Jimmy Cameron?!" James blurted out laughing, Marco's laugh could be heard down the phone. Erin held her face in her hand as she reeled from her mistake.

"Who cares, she's just gonna go and perv over Leo Dick-aprio. Can't say that I blame her though, massive ride!" Michelle stated. Erin shot her a look, then crooked the corner of her lip into a smile.

"Actually, I know an even bigger ride than Leonardo Dicaprio, Michelle." Erin said dreamily, she leant in and snogged James's neck. James flinched and sniggered as her lips tickled him.

"I bet that feels good, ay James?" Marco quipped, who could hear him breathing heavily from excitement. Erin and James blushed, and Clare laughed at her friend's embarrassment.

"Ach, boke!" Michelle wrenched.

Erin then spotted the time. She regrettably hurried to get her coat, ushering Clare to do the same. James informed Marco of their imminent departure. Then Marco said he needed to go as well, he had to be up for an appointment the next morning.

"Oh, what's that? It's Saturday, You haven't got a class tomorrow, have you?" James joked.

"…. No…. It's the… erm…. Read out tomorrow. For my Nanna's estate." Marco replied. James sat still.

"Oh, bloody hell! That's tomorrow, is it?! That came around quick, didn't it?" James shot back.

Hearing James's statement, Erin and Clare walked back into the living room while still putting on their coats, Michelle took notice and sat up.

"Yeah… It came through a lot sooner than I thought." Marco said.

"Jesus! How do you feel?" James asked.

"…. Better prepared…. But still not really looking forward to it though." Marco admitted.

"What's he saying?" Michelle interrupted James.

"It's the read out tomorrow, for his Nanna's will." James replied, turning towards the girls. They whispered to James to keep talking to Marco.

James treaded carefully as he spoke. "What are you not looking forward to?" Michelle scrunched her face.

"I dunno… everything! My parents, mostly! And the solicitors. It's just a massive headache, mate, you know?" Marco replied.

"Well, at least it'll be done. You know? Once you get this out of the way, you can move on. It's what you need to do, mate. Your Nanna wouldn't want you to stay miserable, would she?" James said calmly, Erin rubbed James's shoulder.

"…. Yeah. Yeah, I guess." Marco sighed.

"Just go in there and get it done, mate. We're all here for ya." James said encouragingly.

"Thanks, bruv." Marco said. James smiled slightly. Erin gently pulled the phone from James.

"Sorry Marco, don't meant to interrupt, but me and Clare need to shift. Just wanted to say good luck for tomorrow, Hi?" Erin said.

"Thanks, Erin. Say hello to the family for me, yeah?" Marco replied.

"Anything for Orla?" Erin asked.

"… Yeah, just tell her I miss her. Will ya?"

"Aye, I will do. Bye mate." Erin said.

"Bye Marco, good luck for tomorrow." Clare echoed.

"Thanks, ya little lezzer. Talk to you soon." Marco joked, which made Clare chuckle.

"I'm gonna see them off, Marco. OK?" James said.

"Yeah, no worries, mate. Talk later."

"Hold it, I wanna talk to him!" Michelle yanked the phone from James who walked the girls to the door.

"Hey Dicko!" Michelle said.

"What choo want, motherfucker?" Marco asked, mimicking Samuel L. Jackson's voice. Michelle smirked at the impression.

"Just wanted to say; Don't take no shit from either of them, ye hear?" Michelle said.

"No, I won't. By the way, good luck with the Fat Boy Slim tickets tomorrow." Marco replied.

"Aye! Fingers crossed, proper buzzing so we are. Right, I'm hanging up now." Michelle said.

"Alright, thanks Michelle."

"Aye. Talk later, ye English prick!" Michelle slammed the phone down, laughing for getting the last word in.

Marco laughed as he heard the dead ring tone. Vowing to himself to get her back.

Saturday, October 25th, 9:05am; The following morning, Sister Michael was sitting at her desk. She had just spoken to Father Ashton, and there was something that he'd said in their conversation that triggered a memory of something she'd seen. She hastily began searching through a pile of papers that she pulled from her desktop file holder. She rifled through the numerous files, stopping briefly to observe an unfolded Judo Evening poster, smirking at it with approval. She was almost halfway through when she spotted what she was looking for. She cocked an eyebrow with intrigue as she dialled the number and awaited an answer.

"Good Morning, UCAS. How can I help you?" The answer came.

"Good Morning, my name is Sister Michael from Our Lady Immaculate college in Derry. I wondered if I could ask you a few questions about your apprenticeship programs?" Sister Michael asked.

11:50am; Marco walked through the busy morning high street. The morning was a brisk, fresh October morning. He stopped and observed his "dad" Tony Galluci, who was already standing outside the probate solicitors office. A tall but overweight man with a mixture of black and white styled hair; Ironically, both wore blue jeans and a black jumper. Tony turned and observed his "son" with a long face, and Marco returned the same long face. Both sharing the same grief for the same person, but past sins, and unfortunate circumstances had made any reunion of the two an awkward and strenuous affair. Marco walked forward slowly and soon found himself face to face with the man.

"…. Marco!" Tony said coldly and gruffly.

"… Dad?" Marco replied hesitantly. His voice was softer. Tony's eyes twitched.

"Marco! Hi sweetheart!" A voice called. The sound of approaching high heels came closer and closer.

The two males turned to see Tracey Stanning strut towards them. Her dark roots showing at the top of her bleached blonde hair. A slender woman in her mid-40's, brazen in her leather jacket and leather mini skirt, a white blouse barely holding in her cleavage. Marco looked away in embarrassment as Tracey stared at Tony with a cold scowl. She pulled Marco in for a hug. Marco reluctantly reciprocated.

"Hi mum."

"Hiya. Good to see you." She replied. But her smile was quickly replaced by a look of annoyance when she saw Marco's downcast expression.

"What have you said to him?!" Tracey snapped at Tony.

"I haven't said a word!" Tony answered coldly.

"Huh! It's your mum's read out and you couldn't even wear a suit." Tracey shot at Tony.

"You always have to do it don't you?" Tony answered angrily.

"Oh! Do what?!" Tracey shouted. Marco scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"I don't know why you're even here?" Tony responded.

"Uh, I'm HIS mother, HE is part of this thing, and I am here to make sure you, or that stupid dead cow of a mother of yours haven't tried to pull a fast one over me again… and Marco. We are here to put an end to all this so I can FINALLY move on." Tracey shot back, correcting herself.

"YEAH? WITH MY MUM'S MONEY?! THAT'S ALL YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT YOU SELFISH BITCH!" Tony shouted.

Tracey and Tony began a shouting match right there in the high street. Tracey was unashamed as she effortlessly threw one vile insult after another towards Tony about him, his family, Marie herself; The solicitor's secretary, who was drawn to the commotion, walked out, and pleaded with them to calm down. The probate officer, Mr Brookers, then appeared and requested that the warring pair maintain their composure before entering the office. Tracey adjusted herself, holding her head high arrogantly, she walked away and entered the solicitor's office. Tony grimaced, fighting back tears as he calmed himself. He looked round and glanced back towards Marco.

"I'm surprised that dickhead boyfriend of hers isn't here with her!" Tony scoffed.

"I'm not." Marco answered calmly.

"Yeah, I heard." Tony answered back. Marco turned curiously and saw a crooked smile on his Dad's face.

The moment was brief; a moment that Marco always remembered, the same look of pride that his Grandfather Antonio gave to him. The look that said he was proud of him. Tony had always given the same look to express that he was proud of his son. But now, things had changed. Tony walked towards the entrance door and Marco was left outside, alone. He sadly followed his Dad down the hallway towards the office where Tracey was already sitting. There was a row of three seats in front of the desk. Tracey motioned Marco to sit in the middle between her and Tony. Mr. Brookers entered the room and took a seat at his desk.

"Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for coming. Just before we begin. I have just been handed a message for Master Galluci. I was told it was an urgent matter, so if you would like to call this person back before we proceed, Marco?" Mr Brookers said, sliding a small piece of paper across the desk.

"We can address that afterwards." Tracey interrupted rudely, attempting to control the proceedings.

"Mrs…. Ms Stanning, if you don't mind. This is something for your son to handle." Mr Brookers answered abruptly.

Tracey's face quickly shifted to an annoyed look as Marco took the piece of paper and was motioned into another room by the secretary. Both Tracey and Tony sat there in an awkward silence. Tracey, brazen as she was, stuck her nose in the air and chose to break the tension.

"You must be happy, that tart about to drop her baby soon. Are you sure this one is yours?" She sniped.

Tony remained solemn. His anger brewed strong, but the man had become used to composing himself after enduring 20 plus years of his wife's scornful jibes. Her sordid past, and her overall manner still pained him like a fresh open wound. Tony couldn't help but think back to when they were a young family, and was certain that they were once, to his memory, a happy family. – Were we ever happy together? He thought.

Marco sat at the desk and began dialling the number written on the piece of paper. He recognised the area code, but not the number.

"Sister Michael speaking, you may speak." The answer came.

"Sister Michael?" Marco answered, shocked to hear her voice.

The line went silent.

"Ah, Mr Galluci. Nice to hear from you. I trust you are at the read out?"

"Well, yeah, I'm there now. My parents are waiting for me."

"Well, I'm glad I caught you, because I wanted to run something by you."

"Ok?" Marco leant forwards; his arms rested on the desk as he listened with intrigue.

"Have you ever heard of workplace apprenticeships?"

"Uh…. I remember someone talk about them at the school careers fair once. Why is that?"

"Well. I spoke with Father Ashton this morning. He mentioned to me that you've been looking at a possible culinary career, is that correct?"

"Yeah. I've decided to become a chef, I've been looking into it since I got back."

"Excellent. And you've been attending college since we last saw each other?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Have you re-sat your GCSE exams?"

"One of them. The other two are coming up in the next couple of weeks."

"Good. Anything else?"

"Well, I've been working part time at a restaurant." Marco replied.

"Waitering?"

"Bit of everything really, they've been really nice in helping me learn about food hygiene standards, meal preparation, quantity distribution, stuff like that…." Marco explained.

"Really? Well, that's excellent. How have you found it?" Sister Michael asked.

"Really good. Thank you."

"Well, this program that I found just might interest you. It is a level 3 apprentice Chef program, that means it carries a qualification equivalent to 2 A-levels. How it works is you learn the trade while working part time with the employer, that comes with a small wage. If you pass, it will hold a strong stance in gaining full time employment in your chosen field."

"So, what are you saying, Sister?"

"I have spoken to the organization, and there is a position available for an apprentice chef with an employer who happens to be a friend of mine, and the organization has told me that you will need to get the appropriate GCSE results to be granted an interview, once there, the rest is in your hands."

"…. Are you joking?"

"Mr Galluci, I admit I have a dry sense of humour, but I do not joke when comes to my job as an educator."

"Sorry, Sister Michael."

"Now, I have put myself forward as a professional reference for you, and it would help by getting a reference from your current employer. I hope you can appreciate the lengths I am going to here, Marco. I do NOT do this often."

"Yes, Sister."

"Now. You will need to take a note of this number and call them today. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sister, I will."

Marco began to make a note of the name and telephone number that Sister Michael gave to him. Marco then noticed something peculiar with the information.

"Uh… Sister Michael?"

"Yes?"

"This telephone number you've given me isn't a London code."

"Well, of course it isn't. It's a northern Ireland code."

Marco rose slowly from his chair; his heart started to pound fast. He felt a shudder come over him as he stole himself to ask the next question.

"OK…. Uh, where exactly IS this apprenticeship?"

"It's in a place called Strabane." Sister Michael said. That answer meant nothing to Marco.

"Ok… where's Strabane? I've never heard of it."

"Well, give or take, on a good day; Strabane is about 20-minutes away from Derry."

Marco's eye grew wide as the answer hit him. 20 minutes away?!- He failed to utter a word. His mind was blown. Marco collapsed into his chair in total disbelief.

"Mr Galluci? Marco? Marco!? Are you there?!"

"…. yeah, yeah, I'm here." Marco managed to answer.

"Oh good. I thought the line went dead."

"Nice choice of words…. This… isn't a joke, right?" Marco asked again.

"Mr Galluci, once again you have asked the same question. How can I say this…. I would normally revel in the chance of crushing another person's soul. But if you don't believe me, ring the number I gave you."

Marco began to digest Sister Michael's words. This wasn't a joke; this wasn't a dream. This was real. Very real. Marco's head began to spin as the secretary walked in.

"Sorry, Mr Galluci? They're waiting for you." She said, Marco snapped back of reality, but his head was still spinning.

"Sorry, Sister Michael, the solicitor is waiting for me." Marco said.

"Very well, take care of your business. And call that number. Call me as well to let me know how you get on. Is that clear?" She replied.

"Yes sister."

"Just one last thing, Marco." The Nun said.

"Yeah?"

"Sometimes, in life; You will find yourself in a position where you cannot just be what you were born, you must begin to be what you have within yourself to be. This is one of those times. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sister Michael. I think I do. Thank you." Marco answered.

"You're very welcome. God be with you." Sister Michael said, and she hung up.

Marco shot out of the chair and walked back into the office where his parents and Mr. Brookers were waiting for him.

"Ah, excellent. Now we can begin." Mr Brookers said, acknowledging Marco.

"Sorry about that." Marco answered, his head felt light as he sat down.

"For God's sake. What have you been doing, Marco?" Tracey sniped, but Marco paid no attention.

"Please Ms Stanning, we are pressed for time."

"Is there any reason why you're being such a dickhead to me?" Tracey snapped.

"I will not continue this meeting if you choose to speak to me in that manner." Mr Brookers fired back solemnly. Tracey reeled her neck in.

"I would like to begin with saying that we have now completed the probate process and have totalled the estate of Mrs. Marie Galluci; I am currently reading her last will and testament, which states that - I, Marie Galluci, being of sound body and mind, do so decree that the two sole beneficiaries of my estate are to be my son, Mr Anthony Galluci, and my only grandson, Marco Galluci.-Firstly, we will address the subject of Mrs. Galluci's life insurance."

"What? Marie had life insurance?" Tracey asked, but Mr Brookers was unmoved.

"After expenses, the total amount remaining on her policy is £2,000, and at the request of your late mother, Mr Galluci, she also wished this to be split equally between yourself and your son. So, the pair of you will receive a lump sum payment of £1000 once you have both filled in these forms."

As Marco reached over to take the form, he noticed that his mum's scowl was more prominent.

"And now on to the main subject, which is the dividing of Mrs. Marie Galluci's estate. After the sale of her house and accumulating her savings. The total amount comes to £144000. Equally divided into £72000 to the sole beneficiaries, Mr Antony Galluci and Master Marco Galluci."

Marco's head had now stopped spinning, the exhilaration from Sister Michael's news had now diminished, as the reality of his Nanna's passing came back to knock him down again. The amount of money he had just inherited shocked him initially, but it was short lived, as it dawned on him, that there was no amount of money that could bring her back.

"Now, as I understand from reading this. There was a very specific request that Mrs. Galluci made in her will, that the choice of trustee for Master Galluci's inheritance is to be his own choice."

"That spiteful cow!" Tracey whispered.

"What did you say?" Tony barked.

"You know why she did that! It's a stab at me! She always questioned my abilities as a mother. She rained so much on Marco, that I could never live up to being the oh so perfect mother that she fancied herself to be! But she was no saint herself!"

"You heartless bitch! You've got a lot of fucking front to talk about my mother like that after everything that you've put me, AND Marco through!" Tony shouted.

"No wonder you were in such a rush to divorce me. You knew this was coming up!"

As the shouting match continued, Marco found himself holding his hands over his ears, he bent his head forward and looked down at the polaroid of himself, James, and the girls; which rested on his knee. As he scanned the photo, the bellowing shouts of his parents were drowned out as he heard the words of support that his friends had given him.

"You're a class fella, we're in it together!"- Erin.

"You're alright, for an English Prick!"- Michelle.

"He's more than a friend, he's like my brother!"- James.

"No matter where you go or what you do. You'll always have us."- Clare.

"You're really cracker, Marco… He's, my boyfriend!... Squirrels are such arseholes!"- Orla.

He laughed silently to himself as he remembered Orla's words. He then felt the exhilaration growing inside him again with the actual prospect of the impossible being possible. But the words of support faded as Marco heard his mum speaking.

"Oh well that's where you're wrong. I do need to be here today because someone is going to take care of this kid. He hasn't got the slightest idea on how to handle this. I'm actually surprised that DNA test came back saying that you weren't his father. Clueless bloody dickhead that you are. Mr Brookers, I am more than happy to sign whatever you need to place me as Marco's trustee." Tracey remarked.

"Ms Stanning. I think you'll find that is your son's choice, not yours." Mr Brookers stated.

"Well, Marco! Go ahead and tell him…. Marco? Marco!" Tracey shouted.

"Do you know what, Mum? Dad's right. You NEVER listen. Mr Brookers, do I need to decide right now?" Marco asked.

"Marco, What are you doing ?!" Tracey asked desperately.

"You have a six-month window from today. The funds will be held by us until then.

"Ok… I'll let you know if that's ok with you?"

"Certainly." Mr Brookers said.

"So, are we done?" Marco asked.

"I just need you to fill in that form for the life insurance payout, but apart from that, yes, we are done."

"Thank you. Mr Brookers." Marco answered, handing him the completed form.

Marco shook Mr Brookers hand and turned to walk out of the office. Tracey stood completely aghast as Marco looked back at Tony and regarded him just as he opened the office door and left. The phone number from Sister Michael was tucked in his pocket. He decided to make his way towards the restaurant. In Marco's mind, he could see there was a path lying ahead of him, and he knew what awaited him at the end of it.

"Master Galluci?" Mr Brookers called.

"Yes?"

"There was one more thing. I think you'll need to give this a read." Mr Brookers handed Marco a sheet of paper.

Marco looked back down the hallway where he could see his parents resume their shouting match as they walked towards him, both of them engulfed in a war of words. Marco scoffed again and walked away, thanking Mr Brookers one more time. Marco walked out of the office, and made his way towards the restaurant, his mind was abuzz. He knew there was a lot to get through, but Sister Michael's words were still with him.

"Sometimes, in life; You will find yourself in a position where you cannot just be what you were born, you must begin to be what you have within yourself to be."