The clouds slowly began to part, allowing the early morning risers to see the sunrise one Friday morning in late August following the previous few week's rainfall. Joe sat in the living room to do up his shoelaces, thinking suddenly about his boring brother Colm as he did so. Gerry was in the kitchen topping up his coffee flask with hot water while Mary packed in an assortment of different flavoured rolls into a rucksack. Gerry smiled warmly at the absolute fuss his wife made, for all her chiselled exterior, Mary Quinn was a marvel of a wife and mother. Gerry then spied the big clock. The time was coming up to 5:15am. The Quinn patriarch knew it would be a long trip, from Derry to Belfast to load up before catching the 8 o'clock Fast Ferry to Liverpool, which would still take 7 hours. Afterwards, they would have to load up and catch the return Ferry back to Belfast.

The biggest coincidence was that he was given this exceptional double drop off while James was working with him as a Driver's mate. The wee English fella had asked Gerry about some summer work. Gerry and Joe gladly acknowledged his initiative and James had enjoyed the time he spent with Gerry in the past few weeks delivering all sorts of things. James smiled a secret smile as he also sat in the living room, getting himself ready for the journey, making sure he had his video camera with him. His mind then turned to Erin being upstairs, knowing what they now shared together made him feel a happiness he'd not ever felt before.

"Love, I'm sorry but we really need to get going." Gerry said.

"Almost done, Gerry!" Mary fussed, cutting up and loading more rolls.

"Are ye absolutely sure we're gonna need that many rolls, Mary?" Gerry asked playfully, knowing what was coming back to him.

"Uhh… If yer going all the way to Belfast, and that long ferry journey to Liverpool, I'm not having yous leave this house without making sure ye won't starve. And I won't be having ye spending money in some greasy English café when ye don't need to… Plus, I know James likes them." Mary admitted.

"Oi, ye got some problem with my Mary's rolls, have ye now boy? Or do you have some desperate English slapper waiting for yous over there?" Joe snapped loudly.

"Da! Not so loud." Mary snapped back.

"Of course I don't, Joe! Ye too good to me, Mary Quinn. So ye are." Gerry moved in to hug Mary.

"Will ye pack that in, ya creep? Yer embarrassing the lad here." Joe pointed at James who now stood awkwardly.

"Catch yourself on, Da! James isn't embarrassed. It's no different from how he is with our Erin." Mary smiled at James. Now James really felt himself blush.

"Ae ye ready son?" Gerry asked.

"Yeah." James said with haste.

"Oi, Come 'ere you. Let me see yer." As soon as James was near enough. Mary adjusted his fleece jacket.

"Ach, Mary. He's fine. Aren't ye lad?" Joe shot at James.

"Makes no difference to check. Got everything, have ye love?" Mary asked affectionately, patting James' arms.

"Yes. I've got everything, Thanks, Mrs Quinn….. Sorry, Mary." James corrected himself. Gladly accepting the affection Mary was showing him.

"Well then. Get yourselves gone." Mary gently ordered.

Gerry took his leave with Joe while James hoisted the heavy rucksack over his shoulder. Just then as he reached the front door, James was swung round to be met with a kiss from Erin. James smiled as she flung her arms around him.

"Be careful, aye?" Erin said.

"Yeah, ok. I'll see you tonight." James said.

"Oi! Come on now James! Bye Erin love!" Gerry called.

Erin waved after James pecked her cheek. Jumping into the van with Joe joining them. Gerry was ordered to drive him down to Dennis' wee shop before making his way to Belfast. The previous week of constant rainfall threatened the summer to be a wash out. As the sun began to beam brighter upon the dampened ground; Joe stepped out of the van.

"Anything ye want, James?" Joe asked.

"No thanks, Joe." James said.

"Coud ye grab us a newspaper, Joe?" Gerry asked.

"Ye lazy bastard! Get it yerself!" Joe shot. "Where are ye going, lad?" Joe then asked James, who had stepped out of the van.

"I was… just gonna get a newspaper." James answered.

"Ach, it's no trouble lad. I'll get ye one." Joe insisted.

"Uhhh. Thanks Joe." James said.

"Oh aye. Thanks a bunch Joe!" Gerry shouted as he watched him walk inside the shop. James couldn't help but notice Gerry was chuckling to himself. James couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"Here ye go, James." Joe appeared a short while afterwards and handed James a newspaper. "Oi, come over 'ere son." Joe motioned the wee English fella away from the van. "Ye just make sure he behaves himself, and ye tell me if he gets up to any funny business, do ye hear me?"

"Yeah OK, Joe. Don't worry. I'll let you know if does anything incriminating." James quipped.

"Hmmm, pity being a prick isn't incriminating!, otherwise he'd never be let out!" Joe chuckled. James couldn't help but snigger as well. "Alright, son. Ye get going. See yous tonight."

"Yeah, bye Joe." James turned and jumped back into the van.

"Bye Joe!" Gerry called foreknowingly.

"Fuck off!" Joe called back, he smiled as he saw James crease with laughter while Gerry rolled his eyes and drove away.

Joe took a moment to regard the morning newspaper before he began to make his way back for a fry at Jim's across the road. The headline was enough for Joe to understand the intricate detail that awaited inside the pages once he found a moment to devour the details of the event that had transpired the day before, far away from the walled city.

Meanwhile, the early morning had given Gerry a head start in getting on the ferry before the traffic had increased. The early Ferry was only half full, but he gathered they wouldn't be so lucky on the return journey. Sat in the Ferry lounge area; James opted to put his head down while Gerry poured himself a cup of coffee as he reviewed the headline on the newspaper.

"DREARY O'DRISCOLL'S RAINED OUT."

After a painstaking process. Chief Byers and other investigators from the RUC had been on hand to witness the two-week trial's duration and witnessed its initial conclusion. The news had been the subject of gossip amongst the parishioners at church, the pub and many a workplace within Derry's Catholic community. The implications of the man's crimes had been the subject of worry. Despite the ceasefire, and the attempts to move towards a more peaceful existence between the divided communities, tensions were still very high. Many couldn't help but worry whether something like this would cause the protestant community to view them all with a stark cynicism, which could give the heavily sided Political structure of the city to have good reason not to distribute a more equal share of support towards the Catholics. Some even wondered whether these crimes could reignite old hostility and give way to a violent response.

There had been an exceptional, tedious day for the Dury and the assembly in the court during the proceedings when they were made to listen to the incessant drivel that came from an anonymous witness known only as "X" who had played an essential role in the demise of the defendant, who he had believed him to be the infamous Mr. Stevenson. Although the witness spoke behind a veil of discretion; the Judge's patience was tested when he was made to constantly tell the witness to refrain from mentioning his own name, and to keep to the point without branching off into anything other than what he was there to say regarding the charges. Even swearing the witness in proved to be a challenge.

"Witness "X" Do you swear to tell the truth, the while truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"Well now, it depends on what ye mean by the whole truth….. as there are many variants to what the truth actually means, so there is….. Now, when it comes to confession, now that's a different kettle of fish altogether, because if ye don't tell the truth….. God will already know yer lying through yer back teeth, so he will….. and will then proceed to strike ye down….. And I think to myself I think; that seems to be quite contradictory for a man in such a high position….. But then again, there are those who don't even believe there is a God… which would certainly warrant a striking down of some sort…. As it happens, there was once a fella I once knew….. whose….. name I cannot remember at this juncture….. anyway, he himself, happened to be an atheist now…. Which for someone living in these parts would be seen as sacrilege….."

The air in the court began to feel very condensed as the assembly proceeded to walk out while the witness proceeded to recall how he came to be indoctrinated in Operation: Spider.

"…So I hear the phone ringing, and I says to meself says I; Who could be calling me? For which then, I proceed to answer the phone, which had a classic ringing tone, unlike the more modern phones which house a more beeping type of ringtone, which doesn't sound as distinguishing as a proper ring tone….."

"Council!" The Judge exploded. "Will you please advise the witness that he simply has to say YES to the question?!" The Judge stressed, seeing the anxious expression coming from the female stenographer, the paper trailed over itself from that solo speech.

While the prosecution kept the "witness" to simply answering YES or NO questions based on his statement; Father Peter happened to be there on that same day and pondered why Sister Michael had sent him in her stead. He wondered whether she had been advised that her presence was either not mandatory, or that she had been warned ahead of time by Chief Byers of what was to come. The gentle priest watched on as the truth was outed, piece by piece. Distracting himself by observing the criminal who grunted angrily and argued with his own defence council who were powerless against the overwhelming evidence. All the while, remembering the man's belittling attitude towards himself during his brief stint under his tyranny in Sister Michael's absence. Despite knowing there was overwhelming evidence in this case; Chief Byers and the assigned officers knew that this was only the beginning in the breaching of the dam. There was a strong indication that further charges would be brought in the not-so-distant future. Charges that could disturb the fragility that cohabited the two communities within Derry. Charges that didn't seem possible, even for Patrick O'Driscoll.

As the jury returned to deliver their verdict of guilty. Patrick's audacity reached a new low when he launched himself from his chair and loudly scolded the speaker of the jury with a relentless barrage of swearing and cursing. Father Peter and Chief Byers felt a sense of déjà vu as they witnessed the verbal assault while the officers eventually restrained him. The judge, the same man from the previous trial of Danny O'Driscoll did not wish to prolong the situation any further as he called for order in the court. Standing at his pedestal instead of sitting, he passed the sentence.

"Patrick O'Driscoll…. You have been found guilty of the multiple charges of Insurance fraud, deceit, theft of funds, and abuse of position within the Council for Catholic Maintained Schools. While each of these charges carry a hefty sentence on their own. The fact that you have other charges that will potentially see you back here. I am not going to allow the sentence to be based on one individual charge, a tactic which your defence council were attempting to do so…. Knowing it would carry a much smaller sentence. Therefore, based on the multiple criminal acts…. I impose the sentence 20 years imprisonment. Take the prisoner down."

Now inside the claustrophobic confinement of the transport vehicle; the illuminations from the tiny, bright white lights shone from above upon the new inmate as he felt himself shuffle and sway with the motion of the van as it left the court to take him to his new home. Patrick O'Driscoll, who had once commanded an aura of respectability within the Catholic community now sat with his reputation broken and irreparable. His past transgressions had finally caught up with him. From his position as a school council member and long-time accountant, he had truly woven a web of deceit as he executed his greedy plans to steal money from schools through insurance fraud, even his past association as a Provo military group recruiter had been laid out and exposed in court and in the newspapers; A fact that would certainly make him a target in his own right once he arrived at the prison. Unsure if he would encounter people from his past, his solicitor had managed to sway the Judge to grant him solitary confinement for his own safety.

Joe McCool's eyes moved across each line as he read the newspaper at Jim's table. The radio was on a low volume, as Oasis "Right Here Right Now" played while Jim stood at the cooker, keeping an eye on the eggs and sausages.

"Just listen to this, Jim…." Joe exasperated. "Mr O'Driscoll, 48, served as a member AND Accountant of the CCMS for more than 15 years. The charges brought against Mr O'Driscoll included acts of deceit and insurance fraud. While the RUC confirmed that stolen funds were deposited into half a dozen separate personal accounts belonging to Mr O'Driscoll, Chief Richard Byers was reluctant to confirm whether the same money had been used to fund any acts of MILITANT motivated activities!"

"Jesus Christ! That fat prick never did know when his fucking mouth shut! Always on the rage, so he was….. especially after he'd had a few in the pub." Jim sighed.

"Aye, I remember too…. He always knew how to rile people up, or even piss people off! Problem now, is how does this affect the rest of us?" Joe wondered.

"That's a good point… Correct me if I'm wrong, Joe…. But didn't yer Sarah's ex fella run round with Patrick back in the day? What was his name? Dahmaic, was it now?" Jim saw the blank stare Joe gave him.

"Ye know…. I better call up and see if that lad's hungry." Jim excused himself. Joe sat in silence, pondering the memory Jim had just resurrected.

"MARCO! ARE YE UP SON?!" Jim called up. His calls had brought Joe out of his thoughts. "Have ye not seen the lad this morning, Joe?" Jim tried to divert the subject.

"Aye. He went across to my Mary's." Joe answered. His voice sounded regretful.

Along the way to Belfast; James had seized the opportunity to film the passing scenery with his camera. After loading up and making their way to the Ferry; Gerry sat in the lounge to read the newspaper with a cup of tea before putting his head down. James took to the Ferry deck to film the ocean with the sun rising. Once he'd captured the footage. The wee English fella made his way back down to the lounge where he also managed to get some sleep to wile away the journey across the Irish sea. Just after 3pm; the van drove off the Ferry and they were on the way again. James filmed while Gerry drove through the city centre of Liverpool, following the directions towards the outskirts of the city where they were to unload and reload the van. However, the torrential downpour brought them to a snails pace in the Liverpool traffic. James frowned as it wasn't the scenery he was hoping for, but resigned to the reality that English weather was, for a better word, a right load of balls.

"Looks like we left the Sun back home in Derry, James!" Gerry quipped.

"Yeah, shouldn't be too surprised. Bloody English weather!" James quipped back, switching his camera off, he turned his attention to the newspaper. Flipping the pages with intense intrigue.

"Reading about that O'Driscoll fella, are ye?" Gerry asked.

"It's like reading something out of a film." James remarked.

"Aye, sort of reminds me of that fella with the braces." Gerry said.

"Braces?" James queried.

"Aye, American film, there was that fella, wore colourful braces, had his hair slicked back, carried one of those mobile phones. Sneaky fecker, did some dodgy trading." Gerry described.

"Mr O'Driscoll reminds you of Gordon Gecko in Wall Street?" James asked.

"Aye, that's the fella. Took Mary to see it at the cinema. Told me it was load of balls, she did. But then, one night she comes back after going to see it a second time with Sarah, and all I hear is them arguing about which one of the fellas was more of a ride." Gerry huffed with a smile.

"Oh my God!" James laughed. "What did they say?"

"Well, Mary seemed to fancy Michael Douglas. And Sarah said Charlie Sheen came across as thick enough for her to be comfortable with." Gerry answered. James pulled contorted look of confusion. Gerry chuckled at the wee English fella's uncertainty.

"So, How's things with you, James? Everything alright, son?" Gerry asked.

"What?... What do you mean?" James seemed to panic at Gerry's question.

"Don't worry, son. I'm not interrogating yous. I'm not as bad as Joe is." Gerry said.

"Oh….. Oh right….. yeah. Everything's good, Gerry." James answered quickly. Gerry kindly nodded.

"How's about we have a wee check of the road map?" Gerry suggested.

James searched for the name of the industrial estate, guiding Gerry with his directions. The rain began to subside but it was still spitting down as they unloaded the van of its cargo. Then, reloaded with their return cargo to take back to Derry.

"What exactly have we delivered, Gerry?" James asked.

"Uhhh, mostly office supplies, Paper and printing ink, and other things." Gerry glanced at the delivery sheet. "And it looks like we're gonna be taking back some desks and a bunch of office chairs." He added.

The loading was easy enough. Once they'd driven away. The travelling pair had a couple of hours before they needed to be back to board the Ferry. James regarded the fact that he'd never paid a flying visit to England before, but the thought of Erin at home was enough for him to wish the time would fly by quicker. Gerry parked up and the pair wandered aimlessly around St Johns Liverpool, the shopping centre in the city.

"Gerry?"

"Yea, son?"

"I was thinking about getting something for Erin. Like a book?"

"Hmmm, how about we ask someone where a bookstore is?" Gerry suggested. Spotting a group of young lads nearby, "Excuse me lads, we're looking for a bookstore. Can ye point us in the right direction?" He asked.

"Aye, sure mate. If yer go just down the end there, there's a bookstore on the right." The lad spoke. "It's got red sign outside."

"Ach, grand. Thanks lad." Gerry walked on, James spotted the group of lads were still watching them, their grins grew bigger they got nearer to the shop. Gerry spotted the red sign and strolled in.

"Hold on Gerry, WAIT!" James darted after him, but it was too late. Gerry quickly darted out of the shop with a face as red as the sign. James cringed with embarrassment as he saw what the shop sold.

"Ach, Jesus Mary and Joseph!" Gerry shouted. Turning to see the group of lads doubled over, laughing at them. "Ye wee pricks!" He shouted as the lads ran off.

"Shall we move on?" James asked. Without saying a word, Gerry agreed. James glanced up at the shop name ANN SUMMERS before following him.

Eventually finding a bookstore; James was recommended and bought 'In His Own Write' by the iconic John Lennon. As the pair walked out of the shopping centre, Gerry reminisced on hearing John Lennon's iconic song Imagine for the first time in 1971. And how heard about the Catholic community in Derry revelling in the success of The Beatles during the 60s, and Ireland's connection with the city of Liverpool. Gerry spotted that James had started to chuckle. The man who was so timid when it came to a pair of knickers began to clock why the wee English fella was laughing. Before they knew it, they were both laughing.

"Well, suffice to say, we won't be telling anyone about this part of the journey, will we now?" Gerry insisted.

"Ooooh, I dunno, Gerry. I don't think I can keep this from Joe" James said mockingly. Gerry broke out laughing.

"Oi, less of the cheek, Son. Not a word! Do ye hear me?" Gerry playfully ordered. James gave a mocking salute. "Shall we get going then?" He asked. James nodded. They made their back to the van.

"James?! James, is that you?!" A man's voice called out. James turned and froze at who he saw.

"PAUL?!" James replied as he stared with wide eyes in amazement as he saw his Stepdad standing before him.

"Who is that, James?" Gerry asked. "Oh Christ! Is that you're….." Gerry stopped.

Seeing each other for the first time in nearly 3 years. James walked over and said hello to the man who had been his stepdad. The two greeted each other warmly. Paul placed his hands on James' arms, and gently shook the wee English fella. Pleasant memories came flooding back for James as he smiled back at Paul. He looked the same as he did the last time James had seen him. Paul was slim and much taller than James with thick greying hair, clean shaven, immaculate as he always was.

"I just can't believe it!" Paul said, still shocked. "How've you been, James?"

"I… I'm good thanks, Paul! How've you been?" James chuckled.

"I'm really good. My God! Look at you! Oi, You still watching Doctor Who?" Paul asked.

"Oh Yeah, definitely!"

"Good boy!" Paul laughed. "So, what are you doing here in Liverpool?" He asked.

"I'm here with Gerry over there." James turned and pointed Gerry out to him.

"Hello there, nice to meet ye, Paul. Is it? I'm Gerry, and I come from Derry." He said proudly.

"Oh, uh… yes. Nice to meet you too." Paul held out his hand and shook Gerry's hand. "So, you're James' new…. I mean….. you and Cathy?" Paul asked awkwardly, motioning his hand left and right.

"Oh, no. No, Oh God! No! Not like that." Gerry quickly interjected. "James is just here working with me. Cathy's sister's a friend of the family." Gerry explained. "James is….. well….. he's pretty much part of the family." Gerry explained awkwardly.

"Oh, I see!" Paul understood. "Oh, sorry. I proper put my foot in it there."

"Trust me, I Have a habit of doing that myself!" Gerry agreed. Remembering what happened earlier. James couldn't help but smirk at the recollection.

"I am so sorry, Gerry." Paul apologized.

"Ach, no trouble." Gerry insisted, putting his hand up. "I'll let ye two have a moment. It was grand meeting ye, Paul."

"You too, Gerry." The two men shook hands. Gerry stepped away, leaving James with Paul. "Well, he seems like a nice fellow." Paul said.

"Yeah, he is. He's got a daughter called Erin. She's… my girlfriend." James happily revealed.

"Blimey! You've got a girlfriend?!" Paul exclaimed. "Huh, how did you grow up so quick?" He joked. James smiled a soppy smile. "I'm…. I'm really happy for you, James. I mean that." Paul said sincerely.

"Thanks…. Yeah I am. So, what about you? How come you're all the way up here? I thought you were still living in London?" James asked.

"PAUL?!" A woman's voice called out. They looked to see a slim, petite woman with straight blonde hair walking over to them pushing a pushchair with a toddler sitting inside it. James appeared to be puzzled at who she was, she seemed familiar. The woman appeared to be annoyed.

"Oh, hello love. Uhh…. James, do you remember Gemma? She used to…." Paul shifted nervously.

"Work with you! Yea. I remember. She's your secretary." James said as the woman now stood amongst them.

"Was…." Paul corrected him. "Gemma, you remember James, right?" He asked her.

"Oh my God! What, Is this that Cathy's kid? Your old stepson?" The woman grimaced at James. "What the fuck is he doing here, Paul? You said you didn't speak to her anymore!" She shot abrasively.

"I haven't seen Cathy since I moved up 'ere!" Paul stressed desperately, keeping his voice down.

"It's nice to meet you again, Gemma." James said timidly to the woman, glancing down at the toddler who was clearly over 3 years old.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Well, I take it you've told him about Michael here." Gemma asked Paul. He was silent. "I'll take that as a No. Well, James. This is Michael, he's mine and Paul's." Gemma snapped.

"Congratulations." James said slowly. "….. How old is he?" He dared to ask.

"He just turned three. Paul, I'll be waiting by the car." The woman huffed rudely. She about turned with the pushchair and left them. Paul could see the furrowed look on James' face.

"Listen, James. There's something you need to know…. Me and Gemma…. We were sort of…. seeing each other, on and off….. and….." Paul tried to explain.

"Were you seeing her while you and Mum were together, weren't you?" James asked him. His voice carried a tone of sadness and anguish.

Paul's face said it all. "…..I'm Sorry James! I didn't mean for you to find out like this….. but it just happened, you know? Your mum was always out at all hours, and I had no idea where she was or who she was….. she told me she didn't want anymore…" Paul stopped continually, seeing James stared at him blankly.

"PAUL, WHERE ARE YOU?!" Gemma shouted out.

"ALRIGHT, I'M COMING!" Paul shouted back angrily. "Look, James…."

"It's alright, Paul. No need to explain." James said, his voice full of disappointment.

"Right…. Well, I best be going. It was good seeing you again." Paul said.

"Yeah…. Take care of yourself, Paul."

James saw him out his hand out, but Paul stopped. He slinked awkwardly away. Gerry watched as James turned slowly and walked back toward the van. His eyes seemed distant as he sat in the passenger seat. Gerry had managed to hear the whole conversation.

"Ye alright there, son?" Gerry dared to ask. concerned for the wee English fella.

"…Yeah." James managed to say.

It was now just after 6pm and the Ferry had been sailing for about an hour. James had been the quietest he had been since he and Gerry had set off that morning. He stared out the window, seemingly lost in thought. Gerry felt the urge to say something but managed to stop himself, unsure if James wanted to talk about what had happened. James then excused himself. Gerry had sat by himself in the lounge area for another hour with no sign of James. The docile Quinn patriarch shot out of his seat and walked up the stairs to the upper deck in search for the wee English fella.

Gerry walked out into the gentle breeze as he stepped out on deck; Immediately spying James leaning on the railings, looking back towards Liverpool. Seeing the young lad look so downtrodden, Gerry felt an all too familiar feeling of fatherly compassion for the wee English fella.

"James?" Gerry asked, now standing by his side. "Why don't you talk about it, son?" Gerry suggested. He waited patiently.

"I'm not sure what to say… I mean, they split up years ago.…." James paused. "But Mum never said why. Any time I tried to ask, she'd always get very skittish and just fob it off, but I guess it makes sense now." He said.

"Ye mean, ye had no idea?" Gerry asked. James went on.

"No. When I first came here, I remember Me and Michelle sitting on the stairs listening to Mum and Aunt Deidre in the living room. They were talking…. or to be honest, they were shouting…. But I was too upset to listen, so I just went upstairs. Michelle stayed, but she must have heard them wrong. I remember her telling me why they split up.… But that never sat well with me. That didn't sound like Mum, not to me." James explained.

"God! That's girl's mouth!" Gerry huffed as he shook his head. "She obviously got it the wrong way round." Gerry concluded.

"Why didn't they just tell me?" James asked, more to himself. "He was the nearest thing I had to a real dad, I mean, except Marco's dad. All the things we did together…. Watching Doctor Who, helping me with my schoolwork… but just cos my mum said she didn't want any more kids….. He….." James frowned as he stopped.

"I know, I heard him." Gerry agreed sadly.

"Argh, for fuck sake! Why do I feel so guilty about this? I didn't know he wanted more kids with Mum! It's like I'm the reason they broke up!" James shouted with despair.

"Oi! Calm down, son! You're not the reason they broke up! They just wanted different things! That's not your fault! Do ye hear me, James?!" Gerry said.

"Well, what am I supposed to feel here, Gerry?" James huffed with frustration.

Gerry made eye contact with James. Placing his hands on the lad's shoulders. He spoke slowly.

"Ye listen to me, James. You do not need to feel bad, or guilty, or selfish about any of this! Cos none of this is your fault. As far as that fella goes, it's his loss! You're a grand lad, and I am damn proud to say that. I don't see that same timid boy who walked into my house three years ago. I see a strong, loyal young man who'd do anything for his friends, and his family."

James' eyes furrowed at Gerry's words. But he didn't speak.

"For everything you've done for those girls, for Marco, for every ounce of praise my Mary and my Erin has said about ye. Believe me when I tell ye this… If I could choose a son, it'd be you, James. Because as far as I'm concerned, you're family." Gerry said warmly.

James melted as Gerry patted his arm with approval. "Thanks, Gerry." James said, his eyes welled up.

The pair returned downstairs into the lounge as it had become much colder outside. Gerry and James finished the last of the rolls that Mary had made for their dinner. The conversation changed to more pleasant things as they passed the time on the journey home. It was midnight when the Ferry finally docked into Belfast. The cargo in the van was fortunately not due to be delivered until the next day. So, it was a straight journey down the M22 back to Derry. By this time, traffic wasn't an issue. The time was 1:30am when they finally pulled up outside the Quinn house. A solitary lamp could be seen on the inside. Gerry had decided to let James crash on the sofa so he could see Erin when morning broke. They walked quietly into the house where Mary was waiting for them both. Mary hugged Gerry warmly and did the same for James.

"Get ye head down now, James. Se ye in the morning" Mary whispered.

James was weary but managed to make his way to the sofa. Gerry smiled as Mary draped a blanket over him. They made their way upstairs, leaving James to drift off to sleep. But the wee English fella found himself lying on the sofa wide awake. Although he was back in the sanctuary of what he considered home. He couldn't help but feel his mind still racing with what had happened that day. But then, all his doubtful thoughts disappeared as he felt a gentle hand stroke his cheek. He looked up and saw Erin smiling down at him. She lunged into him, and the pair hugged each other.

"I missed ye." Erin whispered. "I really missed ye." Her words warmed James' heart.