Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Morning
Even for James it was bloody early.
The ferry journey from Liverpool across to Belfast was always a bit of a pain overnight, and this time was no different. He’d nearly missed the damn thing having had quite a day of it trying to get from London all the way up to the port, having been on the go for what felt like twenty four hours, even if it wasn’t quite. His beloved Doctor Who faced multiple enemies of varying species, but even the Time Lord would be unable to answer the ungodly power of a lane closure around junction ten of the M6.
That stretch of road wasn’t made for humans.
Horrific traffic jams and the rush to actually get to the port aside, the journey over itself was fine until his brain decided to wake up just an hour short of the few hours sleep that he wanted. He could get pretty moody when he was tired, so the girls told him anyway, which meant what was already going to be a challenging day today, was about to be made even more so.
A couple of hours to kill, in mostly the dark, meant parking up in the safest place it was possible for an English fella, and getting something to eat. There were barely any places open at that time on a Friday morning, but all he was after was a bacon roll and a cup of tea, which he safely managed to obtain. Constantly looking around him and hoping to hell that his accent hadn’t led to anyone to deciding to introduce his teeth to the pavement one by one, he made it back to the Volvo unharmed.
Listening to the relatively average early morning radio whilst he ate, James found himself able to settle into some sort of peace for a few minutes. Peace that would be shattered in the not-too-distant future, therefore he knew he would have to relish it.
A couple of hours or more with Michelle, without any support, was bad enough in the open but in the small space of a moving vehicle it was going to be hell on earth for him. She always criticised his driving without failure for being too slow, yet whenever he did anything remotely reckless, she would scold him. That was before all the normal insults about his accent, his mother or his life in general were uttered, a chorus of what would be unacceptable hatred from anyone else accept her.
Hatred was too strong anyway; tough love. As much as it could wear him down at times, he did at least have the solace of knowing she cared a lot about him deep down.
It made sense that they would go back to Derry together when she was studying in Belfast, and it was on his route home. Towards the back end of her course there, it wouldn’t be long before she was taking her final exams unlike James who still had another year to go. The decision to go back made a lot of sense though too, with neither of them having classes again until Wednesday, a rare alignment of their time. The rest of the girls weren’t so fortunate but given that Clare was living back in Derry and Erin and Orla still lived at home, they were going to see them.
And get absolutely steaming.
Friday night’s activities were signed and sealed the moment Michelle rang Erin. Saturday’s too for good measure when they’d probably be all left boking at the end of the night.
Still, Derry and getting lashed were a long drive away, and before James could even think about getting out onto the open road, he had to wake his cousin up first. Michelle’s flat, if it could be called that, wasn’t too difficult to find, the early rays of the morning sun being the only obstacle between him and getting there. The imposing tower could hardly be missed anyway, especially when he’d already seen a picture of it over Christmas just a few weeks back.
Flat was in fact a poor description of the place when he got to the front door of the block. Expecting to have to ring her door number, forty-seven, he instead found it wide open. Wearing gloves because of the nip in the February air, he found himself doubly glad when the door handle looked like it hadn’t seen a clean palm in years.
Squat would be the accurate way to describe what could be found when one stepped into the block, the walls looking just as depreciated as the door handles, some loose paper flapping in the wind, haphazardly pinned to the one surviving noticeboard that was mandatory.
Comparing it to his own flat back in London would have been stupid anyway when there were certain economic factors that gave his place the advantage, but he could have stripped the place bare, and it would have still narrowly edged it. The block he lived in was much smaller but never had he walked into it to find what he did at the bottom of the stairs. Over the bottom banister, a discarded purple bra dangled loosely, the accompanying knickers lying in a large pile of boke just underneath the bottom step.
“Charming…”. He muttered to himself.
Taking one look at the lift and deciding that there was more chance of his dad being Fatboy Slim than there was of it working, he deftly stepped over the previous nights droppings and continued on the walk up. There were a hell of a lot of stairs between him and Michelle’s door, but after sitting in a car for hours on end, the sensations of his legs shuffling forward became a welcome blessing. He was a little early too, which always helped.
Some might have hoped that the higher they climbed, the better the place got, but that was never going to be the case with her block, nor did he expect it to be. A couple of floors up saw him having to negotiate some curiously placed syringes, which were definitely not there for legal medical purposes. The disheartening sight of cold, ripped pizza slices also filled another block of stairs, which was bound to bring a tear to the eye of any nearby takeaway connoisseur. The cleaners of the building would have a job on their hands, that was for sure.
Reaching Michelle’s floor didn’t take too long at all, and glad of the walk, James arrived with a smile on his face. That smile extended to the girl who he held the door to the floor for too as she exited, one that she returned with thanks. A little confidence boost for the morning, he’d done well not to speak and thereby ruin the blonde’s impression of him as she passed. Not that he was in any way getting his hopes up when Michelle either already knew her and made her well aware of him or would do so the second she did. The English accent would have long destroyed any chance by then anyway.
Inconveniently, her flat was on the end on the left, though luckily the floor was remarkably clean all the way to the door. Other than what was either mud or dog shit on the other side, which was thankfully a little too far out of the way for him to be bothered by. Just as he expected, the seven on her door was hanging nearly completely off, the four looking like it had seen better days too.
“Why am I surprised”. He shook his head, lightly chuckling.
Knocking the door was the most logical thing to do when he was not blessed with her spare key, but that would have been so for those who did not know the occupant. It would have been a concern if the door was locked, and when he pushed it to find the inevitable, James could cross any worries for Michelle’s safety off the list.
Inside his expectations were once again met. Michelle’s place was small but more than a dorm and was not tidy at all. Other than the space around the small television in the corner and the desk with a computer on next to it, there were a mix of abandoned clothes, a turned over washing basket, the cases she arrived with and textbooks, amongst other things. The adjoining kitchen didn’t look too much better too, pots and pans piled high alongside empty bottles and stained plates, evidence of food eaten days ago still left on the surfaces. A hygienic nightmare that made him squint, James turning his head to look out of the window, eyes scanning over the landscape of more student accommodation and general cityscape.
Huffing under his breath at the state of the place that, though he admittedly thought he would find, was still disappointed to do so, he wasn’t quite sure what to do first. Michelle evidently was not awake and on time and the place needed some serious tender loving care to become worthy of being called accommodation.
That decision was quickly made for him though, when one of the two wooden doors at the bottom of the kitchen opened. For a change, when expecting Michelle, he instead found a shirtless fella wandering out of what he guessed was the bedroom, carrying said shirt in his hand while looking rather asleep still. James didn’t have any doubt as to the reason why the bloke was there, but when the bloke clocked him the same could not be said.
“You the… boyfriend?” The fella asked, in a tone that screamed dazed and confused. “Shit, she never said there was a boyfriend…”.
James could only scoff at his cousin’ latest conquest’s vague attempts to wake up to a day following what must have been a heavy night.
“No no, I’m not her boyfriend”.
It took the fella a few seconds to process his reply but when he did, his veins started to pop throughout his body. A reaction that James knew too well, albeit without actually ever seeing the vein popping rage before, normally just hearing it.
“English? THE FUCK!” Predictably the explosion came. “The fuck you doin’ in here ye fuckin’ pasty shitehead, get the fuck out!”
Another time he might have legged it at those words, but the wee English fella stayed planted when he heard the other worldly groan from behind his aggressor. That brought a smile to his face, a completely different reaction that flummoxed the Irishman that looked ready to kill him if he thought it necessary.
Which it wasn’t. To James.
“For fuck’s sake James, why did ye have to get here so early!” Shouting, she began the moaning from inside the bedroom. “Its only just light ye massive dickhead!”
“You said half seven, Michelle. Its…”. He stopped, pulling back his sleeve to check his watch. “Twenty-eight minutes past”.
“When I said half seven, I meant eight ye dick! And another thin-”.
Michelle was finally up and in her bedroom doorway but stopped short of criticising her beloved cousin any further when presented with a bare back in front of her. Breathing on a fella’s skin was for the night before not the morning after.
“The fuck you still here for!?” She challenged him. “What part of a comin’ back to mine for a shag wasn’t clear?”
“I want some fuckin’ breakfast!” He retorted, as James was left shaking his head again. “And who’s he!?”
“He’s me cousin! Oh and ye want breakfast, do ye? Well, there’s a fuckin’ café round the corner, why don’t ye piss off down there before it gets too busy!?”
“What the fuck!?”
“I’m not a fuckin’ waitress, ye ungrateful bastard! Get out my fuckin’ flat!”
In a half second the atmosphere had gone from cold to deadly, and the look that her bit of fun from the night before gave Michelle was chilling at best.
“You fuckin’ bitch!”
“OI!”
Suddenly, without realising it, the Englishman raised his voice.
“You treat her with her respect!”
Most unwise that decision was, when the fella, still with shirt in hand rather than on, marched towards him. All of the potent venom in his words quickly beat a retreat without leaving any sort of a rear-guard, James trembling when he was very evidently outgunned. The only six pack he could relate to was of the Muller Rice variety that he’d bought at Tesco the prior Sunday.
“Or what, English?” The fella spat into his face.
“Well… Or… erm… or-”.
“FUCK!”
Saved from being tossed out of Michelle’s flat window, it was his cousin that James had to thank. The fella’s shout could have probably been heard around the block when her foot connected with the one organ of his she’d became more acquainted with overnight. An all-encompassing howl of pain ripped itself out of his lungs, almost tearing the paint off the walls as his hands moved to clutch the affected area.
“When I say fuck off out me flat, I mean fuck off out me flat ye great feckin’ eejit!” She yelled at him, smacking him round the side of the head for good measure. “And don’t you think about comin’ back either, yer the worst shag I’ve ever had!”
“Fuck you!”
Pride irrevocably damaged, testicles possibly too, all the fella could do was swear and grumble as he reluctantly trudged out of the place. For good measure he slammed the door behind him, taking his tales of woe back to his mates, who would be ready to rip the piss out of him tenfold for his troubles.
“Thank you, Michelle”. Rapidly, James turned his head to her.
“Can’t have an arsehole like that beatin’ my dickhead cousin, can I?” She smirked back. “Not before I do, anyway”.
Playfully slapping James across the face, she skipped away from him happily. He wasn’t exactly angry either, sighing under his breath but retaining a somewhat cheerier outlook than the cacking one he’d held only a minute or so before.
Focusing on Michelle showed the wee English fella that he wouldn’t be leaving the flat anytime soon. If the state of the place had been anything to go by then he knew it already, but without a case or holdall in site, it was abundantly clear that there was still a lot to do. That and the fact she’d only just got rid of the fella she’d spent the night with of course, an image and further thoughts that he was very quickly trying to rid himself of.
“How are you then?”
“Fine”. Replying, Michelle walked through to her kitchen, opening the door of the large fridge in the corner. “Haven’t been kicked off me course yet and I’ve not got chlamydia so aye, not bad”.
“Is that really the barometer you judge with?” James enquired, eyebrow raised.
“The what? Stop usin’ fancy fuckin’ English words, James, it’s half seven in the mornin’ and I’m still fuckin’ steamin’”.
Literally throwing orange juice down the back of her throat, Michelle’s strained voice betrayed just how far from perfect she was. The evidence of her night was not exactly difficult to find but getting in at two and having to be out for half seven was a drag too far for her. She couldn’t remember agreeing to the time with James, although since the moment she heard him arguing with the fella, she decided to concede they probably did. James wasn’t necessarily a good timekeeper, but she knew that the likelihood of her being pissed to all hell was high.
“You all ready for the exams?”
“Eugh, jesus James, don’t mention the E word”. A groaning Michelle uttered. “I phoned home last week and that’s all Mammy was on about, so it was. Like, what the fuck, I know how to sit a feckin’ exam!”
“She’s only doing it because she loves you”.
Once again, James soon realised he’d picked the wrong thing to say.
“I knew you’d say that. Dick. And for the record, I’ve done really fuckin’ well with this, so it’s a bit fuckin’ unfair you’s all think I’m not ready!”
“Everyone’s proud of you, Michelle, we just worry because… because you do have a habit of losing focus. No one doubts your ability”.
“Yeah well, I’m dead focused so I am, so ye can drop it!”
Hands in the air, James mouthed his acceptance of her wishes back to her. What she did not know, and probably would not ever know, was he was already aware of the call she made back home. He’d made one of his own since and when Deirdre told him about how she’d reacted to the prodding about exams, he’d defended her newly found focus. When they’d last met over Christmas the positive change was delightfully noticeable and the quality of her work impeccable.
Informing Michelle that he’d been considerate would have been a terrible idea when she wouldn’t take him seriously, and so his mouth would forever remain shut on the matter.
The break in the conversation his surrender made was unnatural, the air awkward for a moment before she returned to the fridge and not only opened it, but her mouth too.
“Get here alright then?”
Michelle poorly tried to hide her lack of interest, question far too chirpy. Another side effect of a heavy nights drinking, and definitely not concern for him travelling so far alone.
“The traffic was an absolute nightmare around Birmingham but other than that, all good. I didn’t get any chips thrown at me this time”.
“Ha!” She burst out laughing. “I remember ye tellin’ us now. That was fuckin’ class, that wain deserves some fuckin’ heroes medal or a street named after her”.
“One of them hit me in the eye!” He protested.
“Ach shut it ye massive fanny!”
Inching his way into her kitchen, the two of them were stood in front of each other for a moment until James leaned on the outer pillar. Interestingly, to him and him only, it was the only wall in the main living area that appeared to have all of the paint left on it. A minor detail he’d done well not to point out when he would have been heckled royally for it.
“The fuck are you wearin’ anyway?”
Noting his attire, Michelle was a mixture of bemused and amused. The gloves were an understandable choice given the weather, but when matched with dark black leather shoes, dark jeans and a long, comfortable looking black trench coat, he looked incredibly out of place in the flat block she called home. He was only missing the sunglasses to complete the, what she thought to be, bizarre look for someone who was about to drive for a few hours across the country.
“Just my normal clothes”. James, brows furrowed, responded. “Its cold out, and I know we’ll be in the car, but you’ll need a thick coat too”.
“Ye, I know that, but look at ye!” She snorted. “I don’t know whether yer about to flash me or make me an offer I can’t refuse!”
“Oh for… I’m not about to do either! They’re comfortable and warm a-and I like them!”
“All I’m sayin’ is that yer prolly goin’ to be givin’ grannies heart attacks dressed like that. Creep”.
Rolling his eyes with a touch of offence, he didn’t have anything left to say on his fashion choices. One of the last things he expected to be talking to Michelle about was what he was wearing, leaving him totally unprepared for the occasion.
“Come here, then”. She said to him, arms open. “I do miss ye around, ye know”.
Softening at her considerate words, James pivoted off the pillar to close the short distance into her arms for a rare hug. She did give them out to him from time to time, and when they hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks after years of being in each other’s hair day after day, a warm embrace was welcome.
Failing to remember he was her cousin however, he saw the knee driving up to his groin far too late to be able to do anything about it. With similar ferocity to the kick she’d delivered to the same region of the shirtless fella, her knee slammed into his nether regions, quite literally taking the wind out of him. Backing out of the hug that was never intended, cackling to herself proudly, Michelle side stepped the keeling over James.
“I… should have… seen that coming”. He wheezed out.
“Aye, you absolutely fuckin’ should Dicko!”
As she walked off, voice dipping away, he began to turn around despite his predicament, to see where she was going. Only the second that he did, a white mist descended upon his eyeline, the gentle sound of fabric meeting fabric in his ears. What he recognised as the dressing gown she’d been wearing was thrown onto his head, preventing him from being able to see anything.
Quite rightly so, when she was stark naked just metres in front of him, at the entrance to her bathroom door.
“Fifteen minutes. And no peeking ye perv!”
Nodding under the dressing gown at her demand, James heard one last chuckle from his cousin before the bathroom door shut behind her.
He’d missed her.