Chapter 5

 

“There aren’t many examples of true love that I have in my life, but when I look at Maddie and Derek, it almost makes me wish that I had someone in my own life I cherished so dearly. Almost.” I raise my glass of whiskey and drain it, the rest of the table murmuring acknowledgement before I stand. “Anyone want another drink?” That draws real excitement unlike the rest of my speech. It also frees me from the small talk I’d found myself buried in for the last half-hour. I take the orders with me to the bar, but as soon as I sit, an iron-tight hand clasps my shoulder. Maddie offers me a wry smile as she leans over me to the bar.

“Spill it, kid.” Wasting no time, Maddie snaps her finger and extends her arm to the air. The bartender almost drops the cocktail he is mixing, rushing over to take her order. When she is done with him, he is able to complete the last cocktail, sliding it in front of an aghast woman without any garnish before he rushes to complete Maddie’s demands. He notices her still watching and doubles his speed, then her lilac gaze probes at me. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

Maddie twists her head to the side, a crack coming from her neck. Even while I’m seated, she’s shorter than me, but my head lowers every time her eyes return to mine.

“What is it that you want to talk about? You’ve got the same look as one of the kids afraid to raise their hand.” I chuckle, taking my third drink of the night from the bartender.

“Those are lovely earrings, ma’am,” he offers.

“Thank you. They’re from my children.” Maddie plays with one, leaning it forward to catch the light. “They bought them for me themselves with their own pocket money.” In the light you can see the silver is fading to black and what looks like amethyst is coloured glass. That hasn’t stopped her wearing them every day since I met her. She gives the man a nod, dismissing him to return to other customers.

Even outside of work, she feels like a teacher. Dresses just the same too. Pant suits and blazers with shoulder pads and oversized pockets in muted tones. She actually puts her hands on her hips as she glares up at me, waiting for me to stop throwing my strop and talk to her like an adult. I swallow some whiskey, letting out a sigh. She saved us both time. It might have taken another drink for me to approach her first. “You had Rashid in year 4, right,” I ask, biting my lip. She nods, and I look down, staring at my reflection as the liquid trembles.

“You talked with his parents,” she states. I meet Maddie’s gaze and nod, sheepishly. “It didn’t go well, I take it.” I shake my head, and she drums out a marching beat on the bar with her fingers. She takes a sip of her cranberry juice, her tone softening. “How is Rashid doing?”

“Good. Great actually, academically. He’s pretty good in class too, as long as there isn’t an assembly or loud noise.” Maddie nods, and I take another drink. “Any time the topic of secondary school comes up though, he either locks himself in the closet or bathroom and it takes… a long time to soothe him enough to come out.”

“So, you talked to his parents about having him assessed by the SENCO, and they said no.” I nod, looking down at my whiskey with distaste. I take another gulp even though the last hasn’t finished burning the back of my throat. Almost empty, already. “Then you do what you’re trained to. Keep writing down your observations, as I’m sure you have been, and when they’re ready to talk about it you’ll have all that you need to help.”

“I don’t have a TA this year—” I pause, noticing the tone of my voice, and bite my lip again wishing it had been my tongue a moment ago. “Sorry. All the other kids are going nuts about their secondary schools. It isn’t exactly easy to stop the topic coming up. Every time he doesn’t choose the closet, I have to gamble leaving the rest of the class unattended or letting him wander around alone. I already asked the principal about locking the classroom, but that would be a fire hazard apparently…” I trail off, unable to look up because I’m sure that the look Maddie is giving me is even more scathing than the one reflected in my drink. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re just a teacher.” Maddie’s words make me chuckle again, but this time with no pretence of humour. “Keep taking down the observation notes; that’s all you can do. The rest of the school building is safe and secure for a reason. I’ll talk to the principal myself and see if there’s anything else we can put in place.”

I nod, draining the glass before I can smile at Maddie. “Got it. Thanks.”

She gives me the same look she might give to a fallen child before lifting them up. Instead, she takes the rest of the drinks for me and heads back to the table while I wait to order another from the overworked bartender. 

Just a teacher. I bite open the scab on my lip, blood washing away the taste of alcohol as I wonder if I can sneak out before anyone notices. Goodbyes like these are pretty much the only authentic Irish thing about me.

“Changed my mind~” An airy voice whisks away any thoughts of escape. Nikki takes the seat beside me, stretching her arms skyward and arching her back before crashing back down to the bar. She lets out a groan so forceful I taste the sourness of her last drink. “Maddie started getting all lovey-dovey with Derek. I need something stronger than cider before I hurl.” She waits expectantly until I let out an awkward laugh. Once I do, she thumps me on the shoulder, rising back to her full height as she releases a cackle that would sound obnoxious from anyone else. With the way most of the bar turns to watch her, you’d think it was a siren’s song.

“That bad?” I ask.

“That bad. Split a cocktail pitcher?”

“Oh, hellz yes!” The bartender has already been drawn in, waiting for Nikki to speak to him. When it’s me who orders the pitcher instead, he simply grunts, keeping his eyes on her as he prepares the bright blue drink.

“If I ever get that cringe, please, put a bullet in my head.” She squeals in delight when the pitcher is presented to her instead of me. Taking a long drink, she notices the bartender watching her and grins at him, lips still wrapped around the straw. When he retreats, she wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Reckon I can get the next drink free?” 

“Probably, Nik. He looked like he was ready to sign a marriage license,” I tease.

“Barf. Speaking of, never thought I’d hear you whining about true love. You’re not going soft on me, are you?” Nikki turns that playful smile on me, but its effects have wilted over the two years I’ve known her. I pay attention to her eyes instead. Usually, they call to mind the endless expanse of the sky just before twilight, when the light is rose gold and most flattering, but now it’s as if the sun has already set behind them.

“Pffft, I said almost, Nik.” I pour myself a glass of the cocktail and fill my mouth with it twice, swallowing half of what I just poured. “I have enough issues dealing with my own shit. Why would I bring anyone into that mess.”

“Damn straight!” Nikki pours herself a glass and downs it without the straw. “If I wanted something to pretend to care about me, eat all my food and clean up after, I’d get a cat. At least they don’t miss the litter box when they piss.”

“And they don’t whine about you being too tired after work to hang out, or too busy to respond to a message the second after they send it,” I agree, filling my glass back up even though it’s only half empty. Nikki is already half-way through her second.

“Right! And if I want to do something, I’m not gonna get permission from someone like he’s my dad!” I have to stop myself laughing when I notice people staring at us. My head feels like it’s still shaking from the laugh. Nikki lists more reasons that she hates relationships as my eyes continue to wander around the pub.

The dim purple glow of a dusk butterfly flutters in as a woman pushes open the door. It catches alight, burning away to a whisp of smoke that causes everyone nearby to shiver. A man slams the door behind her, kissing his teeth loudly. Another dim light that only I can see burns ominously beyond the window, waiting for its chance to creep in.

“—Besides, I have way more fun with friends like you, and men just complicate things.” I take another sip of my drink, noticing the pitcher is almost empty by the time I return to the conversation with Nikki.

“Tell me about it,” I say, then I lean in close to whisper. “The chase can be fun sometimes though. You’ve got one hoping that I’ll leave so they can shoot their shot right now.” The light returns to Nikki’s eyes as she raises her head, the straw still trapped between her lips. My eyes guide her to the right, and she curls her whole body on the stool, catching the man just before he escapes. His eyes don’t stay away for long, moving down and up her figure to take in her side view before pretending to laugh at a joke with his friends.

“Dang, he’s actually pretty cute.” She drops the straw into her glass, teasing it with her finger. “And you already ruined it by being here. There’s no way a kid like that has the balls to make a move when I’ve been laughing like a fool next to you this long.” I look over at the ‘kid’ confirming he’s in his mid-twenties.

“How old do you think you are?”

“Ancient. Almost as old as you.” She deflates a little with each syllable she laughs at me.

“Ouch,” I tease, watching her eyes sink down into her drink. “I mean, if you really want him to find his courage, you know how to give any man the confidence he needs.” Nikki accuses me with her eyes. “Not that! Jesus, Nik. Just pretend I crossed the line in some way. Act offended like the damsel he wants you to be. Every man wants to be a hero.”

“’til it gets hard that is.” Nikki plays with the straw, her eyes wide in a way that doesn’t suit the smile painted on her lips. “Are you sure you’re good playing the bad guy?”

“Only if you sell it well. The villain is a role everyone secretly longs for. Wait a second!” I suck down as much of the bright blue cocktail as I can until it burns. “Okay, do your worst.” The excitement in Nikki’s eyes finally matches her smile as she whacks me across the face. 

The whole bar turns to face us and then wobbles as I wipe away tears. Seeing Nikki is about to burst into apology, I cut her off. “Fine, you’re not worth my time anyway!” I stand up, rubbing at the red mark Nikki’s palm left. Sure enough, the man from across the pub is in my face, challenging me to say anything else. “Out of my way,” I say stepping around him. He wastes no time on me, asking if Nikki is alright. She’s apologizing and admitting what we did before I’m out of earshot. That makes the bruise swelling up on my face sting even more.

“Cú, what the fuck? Are you two good?” Will is on me before I can get back to the table to grab my bag.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, Nik just needed a wingman.” I nod towards Nikki who waves back cheerfully. The man she’s with gives us a curious nod as well.

“You lot… need help.” I laugh, grabbing my bag off the floor without an argument. “Wait, you aren’t leaving, are you? I was looking for a wingman myself, honestly.” 

I give Will the same puppy-dog look they used on me yesterday. “You really think I’m going to be any use after that?”

“Come on, you know just sitting with me at the bar is going to bring people in! No-one can resist the daddy duo~” I glare at Will, sliding my bag onto my shoulder. “We can find a new name! All you have to do is have a drink with me and I promise it’ll work out. One drink! That’s all I need, and I’ll pay your whole tab!” I stare at the door, watching the purple glow ebb at the window.

“One drink,” I say. Will pats me on the shoulder, asking me to grab them a Jägerbomb as they find us a spot in the pub away from Nikki. For the fifth and hopefully final time I find myself at the bar, taking my one drink as well as Will’s from the bartender, but as I try to head over to Will a stool jabs into my thigh.

“Watch it, ya eejit!” A stout man whose head only reaches my nose barges into me, almost spilling my drinks as I once again try to dodge out of his way.

“You serious?” is all that spills out of my flooded mind. The old man stumbles against me, his huge coat reeking of tobacco and alcohol. “Back off, old man!” His face is bright red from whiskey and windburn. Liver spots and wrinkles are the only feature that stand out to me under the flat cap the man almost shoves into my chin. When I get a good look at him there isn’t much more to see—only thick glasses filling the part of his face between the hat and a scarf bundled under his chin.

“Trust the bloody English not to be able to hold their liquor. Out of my way, ye big girl’s blouse.” Contrary to his words, the man is barely able to hold himself up as he pushes past me, the stench of mildew joining the others as he trots off. 

I let out a groan then snap back. “I’m not even English, you prick. Just not a walking stereotype of an Irish drunk like you!” The man turns, letting out a laugh as he stumbles further away.

“Drinking American whiskey and speaking like the queen’s lap dog. Fuck off yer Irish, boyo.”

“Shower your head! There isn’t even a queen anymore, you drunk!” The man bleats out a cackle in response that continues even as the door swings shut behind him.

The fire in my stomach turns to ice, each set of eyes in the pub adding to the chill which is beginning to slither up my spine. I try to leave out the back exit but pause when I notice the drinks in my hand. The people staring at me turn away when I look at them, but I still feel the eyes on me. Just go. They won’t arrest you over a few drinks.

“Such an asshole.” Will grabs their drink out of my hand and downs it themself. “Okay, fuck that guy, I’m getting mudslides to wash away the ick of that and whatever just happened with Maddie.”

“Maddie?” I search the bar and find Derek alone, chatting with the group he came with as he pokes a slice of cake with his spoon.

“She had one of her meltdowns. No idea what it was this time.” Will paws at my wrist, trying to drag me to the bar. “No more wingman. Let’s just end the night well. Please?” 

“Will—” Will’s puppy dog eyes plead with me. This night was all Will’s idea, but instead of being angry at all of us for ruining it they just look embarrassed. Those eyes are unfair! I down my own whiskey, forcing the grimace from the burn into a smile. “Sure. I haven’t got anywhere better to be anyway.”  They link their arms with me on the way to the bar for one more drink.

*

At the end of the evening, I crash into bed. Will had in fact ended up with a wingman. A couple asked if our milkshakes were alcoholic, and they all ended up hitting it off and going out to a club to continue the night while I stumbled into an uber. I heave my phone up to my face, dropping it on the bed beside me as I realize it’s only eight. Nikki’s right. I am ancient. Rolling onto my side, I kick my shoes off and lift my knees to my chest, fishing around in the darkness for my duvet. I hadn’t noticed just how early it was with the sun going down at about six now, but the chill reminds me it’s already October.

To the tír, then? The deep emotionless tone fills my mind, and I almost jump, the movement making my head spin as I search the room. Only a small amount of light makes its way through my window, the high street below never truly allowing darkness to set in. I still haven’t bought curtains thick enough to block out the never-ending parade of London traffic. The room is filled with unpacked boxes and empty food containers. The shadows move like a carousel as the cars go over speed bumps far below and every time the orange light pulses across my face I wince in pain.

No, Felly. I barely think I could walk right now, let alone… whatever it is we do.

My form has a stronger tolerance to poison than yours. Simply transform and you will find it flushed from your system within minutes. I sit up in bed, grabbing the water bottle out of my bag and chugging the contents while considering the instant hangover cure I’ve been blessed with. If you can’t do even that much, allow me to take control while you find your slumber within. By the time you wake, the lost soul will be dealt with.

No! Just thinking the word so hard makes my head throb. You know I can’t let you do it your way. Besides, I do have a plan. Féileacán is silent long enough for me to collapse back in bed, getting comfy with a body pillow squeezed in both my arms and knees.

What plan? He finally asks, not letting me get away with just the promise.

That, you need explained? I thought you could hear all my thoughts? I told you I needed more info, didn’t I? Hannah’s funeral is tomorrow at 11 am. Just wake me up at 9:30 so I can shower, and we’ll find out everything we need to know about her to help her pass on peacefully, okay? When there’s no sound for a moment and my eyes start to get heavy, I snap out at the darkness, “okay, Felly?”

A sound of acknowledgement, more groan than sigh is my answer, and enough to let me finally let go of consciousness, almost immediately falling asleep. 

The thoughts of Féileacán and I being an old bickering couple thankfully don’t make it into my dreams. I blink and suddenly an alarm is playing while hazy daylight stings my eyes. I drag myself out of bed fighting against the hangover. Fishing around in one box after another, I eventually pull out a suit that I’ve only worn once. Too late to iron out the creases, but I won’t look too out of place. Plucking a few long brown hairs off the collar, I hold it in front of the cracked mirror I repaired with gold tape. The black and grey hairs don’t stand out as much, but Bear managed to sneak every type of fur he has along with me. There are ties somewhere in the mess of boxes, and a belt too. The only clothes I’ve taken out so far are the ones I grab to leave each morning, and most of those are sitting in the washing machine, waiting to be run when it’s full.

This will be the first time I see Hannah in the real world, as she was in life, I realize—if they have an open casket. I turn the shower to full cold as I step in, punishing that cruel thought. It’ll be the first time I talk with her grieving parents; I remind myself. Those whose house I’ve invaded twice without their knowledge. Seen grieving in their private space. Get your shit together.