Chapter 12: What is your name?

Dennis charged about his wee shop in frustration. The week's delivery had been delayed due to the fog and he was on a shorter fuse than usual. He'd propped the door open so he could keep an eye out for the delivery van. As Dennis went about his business; he growled with annoyance as he was pulled away from stacking the shelves once again to serve another customer.

"What's the craic, Dennis?" Sinead O'Driscoll asked.

"This FUCKING FOG! That's the craic, Sinead." Dennis growled. "£10" He grimaced.

Sinead was a young mammy, 22 years old, with a slim, petite build, and short blonde hair. She reached down into the basket under the pushchair for her purse. Just then, Dennis turned to see another regular, an older lady called Fiona dart into the shop with none other than Marco. Fiona looked around in alarm. Marco was holding a small boy, about 3 years old, in his arms.

"Sinead?!" Fiona cried; Sinead was frozen. She did a double take, peering at Marco and then the pushchair.

"Liam!" Sinead said in shock, seeing her boy in front of her. "Oh my god! I thought he was asleep?" She began to fret.

"Is he yours?" Marco asked anxiously.

"Aye…. Wh…. Where did ye find him?" She gasped as she bounded towards him in a panic, Marco passed the boy over to her; Sinead whimpered as she cradled Liam tightly.

"Ach, Sinead!" Fiona cried with relief. "Ya not gonna believe this! I saw little Liam outside, he almost walked out into the road, so he did. There was a car…. Thanks be to God this lad grabbed him before…." Fiona gasped.

"Oh my god!" Sinead despaired. Holding her son.

"It's ok. He's alright. Nothing happened." Marco assured her.

"Ach… Thank you. Thank you so much!" Sinead wept.

"It's alright." Marco said.

"Oh Christ! He must have wondered out cos I left the door open." Dennis shut his eyes as he gasped. "Sinead, I am so… sorry." Dennis pleaded.

"It's alright. No harm done. OK?" Marco assured them again.

"Aye. OK. It's alright Dennis…. Come on now, love. Let's get ya in here." Sinead proceeded to place her son back in the pushchair, strapping him in securely. "What's ya name, lad?" Sinead asked.

"Marco."

"Are ye from round here, son?" Fiona asked.

"No, I just moved over, hopefully." Marco said.

"Ach, well. Welcome to Derry, Marco." Sinead said kindly.

"Thank you very much."

"Are ye… English, ya know, from England?" Sinead quizzed further.

"Uh Yeah." Marco answered. Sinead nodded pleasantly.

"Well. Thanks again, Marco. Thank you. Hope to see yer around?"

"Yeah, no worries."

Sinead and Fiona left the shop as Marco turned to see Dennis with his head looking down at the counter, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

"You alright Dennis?" Marco asked.

"Aye… Aye I'm ok. Good thing yer were around, lad." Dennis gasped. "Ye know what? Whatever yer want, it's on me." Dennis said.

"Ah no, don't be stupid!" Marco insisted.

"No seriously." Dennis then insisted.

"OK…." Marco picked up some WHAM bars and a Kit Kat for Orla.

"How about that bottle of Jameson Whiskey?" Marco joked. Pointing behind Dennis.

"Uh… No!" Dennis shot emphatically.

"Why, cos I'm still underage?" Marco asked.

"No… Because they're fucking expensive. I'm charitable but I'm not fucking stupid, am I lad!" Dennis' cold stare had returned.

"OK…. How much is it?"

"£30"

"OK." Marco pulled out his wallet and placed the money on the counter.

Dennis shot Marco a look, but once he saw the money, he turned and placed the bottle on the counter. Marco placed the bottle in his rucksack. Dennis noticed the sound of clinking bottles.

"Sounds like yer gonna rat arsed, tonight? Hi?" Dennis queried.

"No. It's not for me. It's for someone else." Marco answered. "Thanks Dennis." Marco went to leave.

"Hey, Eyetie?...Welcome back." Dennis said.

"Thanks Dennis…. How IS your mum, by the way?"

"Ach GET OUT!" Marco laughed as he darted out the door, Dennis sneered as he shook his head. Cheeky fecker.

As he walked through the bitter coldness of Derry in late November, Marco began to wonder why he chose to walk to Our Lady Immaculate College instead of driving there. He then wondered if the Renault Clio would be big enough for everyone, but he smirked as he imagined the others being crammed in like sardines. He soon came upon the school's entrance. Classes were still going on, so no one would see him walking in. He could barely keep his smile hidden. He also felt the same tension in his chest and felt his stomach turn; not sure if it was excitement, nerves, or dread. Miss Mooney knocked on Sister Michael's office door. The nun was reading The Shining as she sat at her desk.

"You may enter." She said. Her concentration was broke.

"Sister Michael?" Miss Mooney entered.

"Yes?" She answered, not taking her eyes off the page.

"Ye have a visitor."

"Who? I thought my diary was clear?" She asked, finally breaking her focus from the book. Miss Mooney stepped aside as Marco walked into the office. Sister Michael gawked in amazement.

"Mr Galluci?" She said, stretching out his name. Slamming the book down on her desk.

"Good afternoon, Sister Michael." Marco beamed happily, approaching her desk.

"Well, this is certainly a surprise." Sister Michael stood up and reached over to shake his hand, a firm handshake, and a look mutual respect between them was exchanged. Sister Michael gestured that Marco take a seat.

"Sister, I'll be heading off now?" Miss Mooney said.

"Yes of course Miss Mooney, I'll handle this." As Miss Mooney left. Sister Michael sat down.

"Well then, I take it, your presence here means that things went well with your exams resits?" She queried.

"Yes. All good. 2A'S and 1B. Spoke to UCAS and I've got the interview tomorrow."

"How do you feel?"

"Nervous, but good nervous." Marco replied.

"Well, you certainly sound confident." Sister Michael remarked sarcastically. Marco smiled.

"I take it, certain people are aware that you're back?"

"Uh. No. Just one of them."

"Orla?"

"No, James. I… must confess… I told Orla I was gonna be here in 2 weeks' time." Marco said.

"And why would you do that?"

"To surprise her?" Marco laughed nervously.

"Ach, for God sake." Sister Michael rolled her eyes.

"But I also wanted to come and see you." Marco confessed.

"Hmmm, and why is that?" Sister Michael queried.

Marco pulled his rucksack up to his lap. He pulled out the bottle of Jameson Whiskey, and a bottle of Antonio's red wine. He placed them on the desk in front of Sister Michael.

"It's just something to say… Thank you." Marco smiled.

Sister Michael looked upon Marco with a nonchalant expression. She tilted her head towards the bottles, and then back at him. Her mouth crooked into a slight smile.

"You're very welcome, young man. And Thank you for the gesture."

"Word of advice. Try the wine first. It's a homemade brew from a friend."

"Is it now? I think I just might." Sister Michael seemed intrigued.

She slid a glass over and reached out for the bottle of wine, her other hand was resting on her book, which was next to the button that switched on the microphone to the school loudspeaker system that rested on her desk. As she reached over, the book slid slightly and switched the microphone on.

James, Erin, Orla, Clare, and Michelle were all in the same history class listening to Jenny Joyce read loudly with enthusiasm when they heard the loudspeaker squeak and hum. Jenny stopped talking and the class waited to hear what was about to be said, but there were no voices. The sound of pouring was heard. The entire school: every class could now hear Sister Michael speaking in a very casual manner to another person whose voice sounded distant. The audio was crackly, but Sister Michael's voice was undeniable. There were slight pauses in between.

"You're not gonna drink it now, are you?" Marco asked surprisingly.

"Ach, please. What harm can it do? I've drunk stronger things in my time. This lightweight shite your lot conjure up is like water compared to Jameson whiskey." Sister Michael proclaimed.

"Sliante, and Good luck for tomorrow." The nun toasted.

"Salute! It's your funeral." Marco muttered as he smirked.

Sister Michael savoured the sweet taste. After a short pause.

"Well, I will confess…. huh! There's an odd statement…. it's certainly going down nicely." Sister Michael threw her glass back and finished.

"Excellente!" She said.

Jenny Joyce was standing at the front of the class, her book clasped in her hands. Her head and eyes were darting everywhere. Urged on by the teaching nun, she attempted to carry on reading, but her eyes widened as she gawked repulsively, she looked up in awe and shock at the loudspeaker hearing the distinct sound of pouring again. Orla tilted her head upwards towards the ceiling. James turned his head sideways, trying to make out the other voice. Michelle began to snigger uncontrollably.

"Sister Michael's getting blutered." Michelle shouted out. Some of the other girls laughed.

"Miss Mallon!" The teacher nun scolded her. "Wait here, all of ye. Miss Joyce; watch them!" The elderly sister rose slowly from her seat and began a snail's pace walk out of the classroom.

After she'd left the room; Jenny Joyce attempted to read again. But her high-pitched attempts to speak over the loudspeaker were overshadowed as Sister Michael's speech began to slur a bit. Erin gawked in amusement; Clare sat with her mouth wide open. The girls all shot looks at each other, while James listened intently, as did Orla, with an amused smirk shot across her face. Jenny attempted to speak over the conversation again.

"Shut up and sit-down Jenny! Christ!" Michelle snapped; the class were now listening with intent.

"Who do yer think she's talking to?" Clare whispered.

"I dunno. I can't make out the voice." Erin whispered back.

"Shurup, will ya!" Michelle was especially intrigued.

"Come a bit closer. I have something to ask ya, boy."

"It's a fella." Michelle gasped. The sound of shuffling was heard.

"Ach, maybe it's Father Peter?" Orla claimed.

"Shhhhh" Michelle said.

Sister Michael spoke again.

"I must ask…. Are ye sure ya want to get involved with those wee fuckers? Or are ye just mad?"

The other voice laughed. "I must be." They heard him say.

"Ye most certainly are…. However, I will say one thing…. Dealing with them, for all the…. The…. as fucking annoying as it's been…. By Christ, they've made life amusing…. Cos yer need to laugh at life sometimes, otherwise, it's just fucking depressing…. Ye know…. I think Jesus himself could have done with some of this while he was up on that fecking cross!" Sister Michael proclaimed.

The class sniggered amongst themselves as they heard the other voice belt out a louder laugh.

"Hey, You're not gonna start singing Always look on the bright side of life. Are you?" The voice laughed;

The class laughed at the quip, but James's eyes went wide. A switch went on in his head like a light bulb. He knew who that voice belonged to. He closed his eyes tightly, and bit down on his fist to hide his laughter. Orla started to listen intently. Had she just heard something?

"Ach, a classic. That film was…. Excuse me one second…." Sister Michael gathered herself to use the microphone.

"Ach…. That's handy, it's already switched on…. Would James Maguire please come to my office." She slurred.

The class all turned to look at James. Who was struggling to contain himself.

"James?" Erin asked, spotting his hunched posture.

"Oi! Dicko! What's wrong with ya? Get off ya arse!" Michelle shouted.

"Quick, James! Find out who that is!" Clare said.

They watched James get up from his seat, he sniggered incessantly as he left the class.

"What's wrong with James?" Orla asked, scrunching her face.

The wee English fella let out his laughter at first, he then bolted through the hallways of Our Lady Immaculate towards Sister Michael's office. As he easily went past the teaching nun without any real effort, the conversation continued over the loudspeakers. As he neared the office. He slowed down. When he finally came to the door; he smiled and shook his head as he entered.

"Ah, Mr Maguire! I believe you two are acquainted?" Sister Michael asked amusingly.

The two best friends saw each other. Both beamed large smiles, the school heard them laughing loudly as they collided in a huge "man" hug. Sister Michael couldn't help but smirk to herself, regarding the moment she helped create. James and Marco came out and regarded each other. Old friends reunited again.

"HEY!-HOW YA DOING YA OLD PIRATE?!" Marco exclaimed happily. Stealing another Star Wars line. James creased with laughter.

"I can't BLOODY believe it!... Damn, it's good to see ya, bruv." James was truly ecstatic.

"Missed ya bruv!" Marco said. The two of them went in for another embrace, patting each other firmly. As they spoke, Marco's voice had now become more clearer as he was closer to the microphone.

Back in the classroom, Orla's eyes had shot wide open in utter shock as she'd recognised the voice. Erin, Michelle and Clare gawked at each other. The penny had dropped.

"OH MY GOD!" Orla said as she rose slowly from her chair and stared in astonishment at the loudspeaker.

"Orla!" – Erin stood beside Orla.

"Ye know who that is?!"-Clare asked, standing on the other of Orla.

"…Fuck-a-doodle-doo!"- Michelle shouted loudly.

"Shush-sh-sh!" Orla waved her hands, still staring at the loudspeaker. She began to smile, but still wasn't sure. "… Marco?" She said quietly.

"You really put your foot in it this time, you dickhead!" James finally managed to say, still laughing. Despite his evident smile. Marco shot a confused look.

"What?"

"Oh, well that's a nice thing to say James. The lad comes all the way back here and ya call him a d-" Sister Michael began...

"Sister Michael?! Can I just say something?" James interjected.

"Ach, If ya must." Sister Michael slurred. Her head was light as she slouched in her chair.

James walked over to her desk and stood next to her. Marco watched his friend unsure of what he was getting at.

"Sister Michael. I think you should know…. You've had the microphone switched on this whole time. The whole school's has been listening." James said calmly.

Marco gawked at the illuminating red light that James was pointing to. Sister Michael looked in disbelief. She glanced up at James, and then Marco. She then stood up and swayed as she attempted to find her feet.

"Ach, well ain't that a kick in the balls…. Ach, feck it. Excuse me." She said.

The boys sniggered as they watched her zig zag out of the office. At that point. The bell went to signal the end of the school day. James took a chance and picked up the still active microphone. He put his arm around Marco who had his head buried in his hands.

"And for all the listeners out there, I have someone here I'd like to introduce you to. Please tell us, what is your name?" James said mockingly.

Marco shot James a mocking scowl. He then smiled and cleared his throat.

"…. It's Marco Galluci, Motherfucker."

Orla exploded with a cry of sheer jubilation. The girls cheered as if Derry City FC had just scored a last-minute winning goal. Orla bolted towards and out the classroom door, leaving the others behind. Erin and Clare began to gather their things together. Michelle followed Orla but stopped at the classroom door.

"Fucking leave it, ya dickos!" Michelle cried; she bolted out the door.

"Come on Erin!" Clare cried. Following Michelle. Erin threw everything down and bolted.

"Hey, stall the ball!" Erin cried, she sprinted to catch up.

Orla sprinted through the corridors like an Olympic runner. She whimpered with excitement, wishing she could go faster, but she was racing faster than she ever had before. Schoolgirls, the hallways, even The teaching nun was like a blur to her as she charged her way forward. James and Marco had now left Sister Michael's office, with James leading the way back to the classroom. The school was clearing out for the day, and the boys found themselves against the flow of schoolgirls in the corridor. Some of them said hello to them both as they made their way through.

"Fuck me! How is she this fast?!" Shouted Michelle: Orla was completely out of sight.

"I told ya; she's like a whippet!" Erin shouted, now just behind Michelle, but in line with Clare.

"This is incredible, girls! I thought he said he was coming in 2 weeks?" Clare quizzed.

"Who gives a fuck!" Michelle shouted.

"Are we there yet?!" Marco joked.

"Come on!" James encouraged.

They shot through a set of large double doors and tripped over themselves as they fell into a large main corridor. Schoolgirls had to dodge them as they fell against some lockers. As they doubled over laughing and turned down the corridor; Orla had stopped in her tracks. She'd come through another set of doors only yards away from them. Their eyes met for the first time in nearly 3 months. Orla's face bore a look of utter elation as she saw him. Marco's eyes stung at the sight of her, and he smiled broadly at the beautiful Derry girl.

"ORLA?!"

"MAAAARCO!"

Orla and Marco bolted towards each other and hugged with sheer joy, just as Michelle, Erin and Clare burst through the doors. The girls smiled euphorically as Orla and Marco clutched onto each other as if their lives depended on it. Tears of joy ran from them both. They sobbed peacefully into each other's shoulders. Erin was the first to break, James quickly steered himself towards her, Erin smiled at James as she buried her face in his chest. Clare clutched her chest as she took in the joyous moment in front of her. Michelle, as hardened as she was, felt her lip quiver, she tried to hide it with a smile, but it was obvious.

As they began to calm, Marco felt Orla move her head, they locked eyes with each other again.

"Ye… ye came back!" Orla wept. As she looked at him adoringly

The passing students gasped and cheered as they saw the couple break all protocol with a tender kiss.

"Move on ya fucking perverts!" Michelle ordered them.

"Am I dreaming?" Orla wept.

"…. Am I?" Marco asked back. Orla leant in and kissed him again.

"No…. WE'RE AWAKE!" Orla said cheerfully.

They laughed together as they gripped each other again for another hug. Erin felt James urge her forward, Clare and Michelle followed, Orla shifted to Marco's side as the girls embraced him collectively, just as they had done with James before, who took a position between Marco and Orla, placing his head between theirs. Marco made sure he made eye contact with each one of them. Of all things that he hoped for on that lonely journey back to England; He'd hoped for this the most.