by Nia Lucas
Satisfied that their lives are fundamentally on track, Jock turns to me, “Well lassie, wha’ brought you intae the clutches o' these two eejits?”, smiling at me kindly, Jock sits back in his chairy ready for the story and nervously, I tell him about meeting at the rave and Lee scaring me.
Jock laughs at that bit, “Aye, our Leon is a people person, tha's fer sure”, he roars with loud laughter and points as Lee scowls, “See tha’? Pure pleasant”, Jock roars again with his loud laugh before asking,
“Tell me lassie, wha’ do yous do wi' yoursel’? College?”, he looks interested.
I mumble self-consciously about my exams, my Dad and brother, clamming up when Jock asks about my mum. As I fiddle with the salt shaker, his gaze is appraising before he turns to ask the boys if they've had a visit from something called 'Witness Support'. I look up, interested in what this information might be. Furtive looks are exchanged between the pair of them before Shay nods.
Jock drops his cutlery on the table, shouting, “And?? Yous couldnae hae rang me? Fucks sake lads, wha' did they say?”, Jock sounds worried.
Shay swallows and mumbles, “He said them boys get out Easter. We're gettin' a fuckin' egg”, Shay nudges Lee who grins impishly.
Jock looks furious though, “Fucks Sake Seamus!”, the volume of his shout silences the cafe, drawing glances our way as Jock continues shouting, “D'yous realise how fucking serious this is, young man? I hae police officers offering me, me, protection so I cannae imagine wha' the risk level is fer yous two. I cannae sleep at night fer the worrying and yous cannae bother tae call me when the liaison officer comes?”, with tuts and a head shake, Jock resumes eating, fury transmitting from every pore.
Shay and Lee look more sheepish than I have ever seen two humans look. I get sheepishness by association and gaze at my plate.
“Wha' else did they say?”, Jock's tone is calmer.
Shay looks up through his lashes and mumbles, “He said tha’ we ain't 'advised' to stay at the flat. He told us to go up the Council an’ get moved, tha' he'll do a fuckin' letter”, Shay reaches into his pocket, getting his battered wallet out and handing Jock a card, “Tha's his name an’ shit”.
Lee's voice is deep and low as he adds, “We ain't leavin' though Jock, where the fuck we gonna go? We gotta stop runnin' man, we gotta deal wiv this shit”
Down goes the cutlery with a clatter as Jock shouts again, “Deal wi' this shite? Young man, can I tell yous how this shite will be dealt with? It will be dealt with by harm tae yer lanky carcasses, it will be dealt with in yer fucking blood. You hav'nae gone tae the Council have yous? Eh?”, he jabs an accusing finger in their direction the boys sheepishly shake their heads.
Jock yells, “FER FUCKS SAKE!”, ensuring that everyone is now looking at us.
Shay and Lee look sheepish as a purple-faced Jock rages on, ,“First thing Monday, yous and I are going down tae housing. It is less than twenty fucking days before those bastards are loose. You”, he jabs a fork at the two of them, “Cannae hide behind wannabe gangster bravado and gobshite, smart-ass sass lads. I will no allow yous tae be harmed and I will no stand by and watch it happen. Jesus, I hae spent twelve years o' my life keeping yous two alive and outtae harms way, I'm no fucking wasting that now, eh?”, and as if nothing more taxing than a weather forecast has been discussed, they all resume eating.
I’m white faced and trembling. Harm. Blood. I look at their chatting faces, Shay’s smirk, Lee’s frown and I feel icy chills through my veins. Plates cleared and puddings demolished in relative calm, a discussion about Lee's attitude towards his boss Brian makes for further cutlery dropping but this soon passes.
Jock leans back in his chair “Right, you wee bastards need tae go up the shop and get the papers fer flats tae rent, eh? Yous need a backup plan. Then you go tae put those wages I just saw in yer wallet O'Driscoll in the bloody post office account yous opened. You'll lose the whole bloody lot otherwise”, the boys look less than enthused and roll their eyes.
“NOW!!”, Jock bellows.
I snort with amusement as my large, good-looking bastions of rebellious cool scuttle off to do exactly as they're told. Shay runs back in quickly, kissing me on the cheek. Lee, spotting this move, nonchalantly slides back to the table too and with a shifty look does the same.
“Go you wee fuckers, NOW!”, and Jock points at the door as they exit.
I gulp as Jock turns to me, a stern look on his face,“ I cannae work out which one o’ them are courtin' yous sweetheart and frankly, the idea o' those two engaged in any sort of romance, makes me feel peely-wally so spare me”, Jock's gaze is unwavering, “But I can see that yous all care about each other an' I need tae use tha' tae keep those boys safe right now”.
He cocks his head, “Y'know lassie, I've been their social worker since they were wee boys, they tell you that?”, I nod as Jock carries on, “I'm no their worker now, tha’ fucking privilege ended when they were eighteen but the wee shites are still a menace, so I cannae quit. Wha’ I'm about tae tell you, I'm only telling yous because I'm close enough tae retirement tae no give a shite about breaching their fucking confidentiality and I need yer help now tae keep them safe”, his expression is pleading as he leans forward.
His hands clasped on the table, he rumbles on, “Seamus O'Driscoll was the most neglected bairn I've seen in forty years. His Ma was only fifteen when she had him, in care hersel’ but sent tae live in a flat alone. His Da gave him nae more than his surname. By the time the Social rocked up, a teacher had been feeding an' clothing him fer two years, the auld love had no told anyone wha’ she was doing. Turned out tha’ his Ma was on the game and wee Seamus was left tae run wild. Neighbours would see him on the streets at 3am, the bairn just seven years old but nae bastard e'er reported it tae us 'til that auld teacher died. He was so clatty, when we took him from his poor, drunk Ma, we couldnae work out if he was burnt, his skin was so black. He was riddled wi' lice and the wee mite was feral. He was seven but couldnae use a knife and fork, he didnae know how tae brush his teeth. He went tae four foster placements in the first week, naebody could handle him. He went tae the local kids home and there he stayed 'til he was sixteen. He was the pain in their arse, wee shite. You name it, he fucking did it. I spent years o' my life in tha' fucking police station bailing the wee bastard out”.
Jock takes a sip of his tea and continues, “He's a bright, funny wee bastard wi' a good heart but he hasnae known what it is to be cared for and he has ne'er known the value o' his own worth an’ it makes the wee fucker reckless. He's got an attention disorder which means that the lanky bastard cannae sit his arse still. He's no brave lassie, he just doesnae think that his death is worth trying tae hard tae prevent. He has nothing tae risk losing EXCEPT that other eejit...and yous it would appear now”, tears track down my face. Shay.
Jock's face is kind, “You care ‘bout him, eh lassie?”, I nod, a wobbly lip giving away the depth of my growing feelings.
Jock, pats my hand and then leans back, arms folded, “Tha' other wee eejit has been through a different sort o' hell mind yous. I'd ne'er heard of the Barretts 'til the Da was busted and the family fell apart. Leon's Ma had a nasty crack habit and with the Da gone, she beat that wee boy when she was high. Malachi, the brother, was bigger and so she'd target Leon when Malachi wasnae in. That fucking guilt drove Malachi to the drugs. You e'er seen Leon wi'out a shirt on, y'know, when yous are doing these dance party things?”, tears dripping down my face, Jock hands me a napkin as I shake my head.
He sighs and continues, “She used a phone cable, a heated metal spatula and a belt”
A sob breaks free from me, not able to fully process the implications of this fresh horror.
Jock looks at me, a knowing nod and a resigned look on his face as his tone softens, “In all these years, the biggest fucking shit-storms they hae caused are because they were protecting or defending the other. Seamus has naebody except Leon, genuinely, naebody. His ma went AWOL as soon as he came into care and we've
no heard from her since”.
He carries on, “Seamus laid his life on the line fer Leon and Seamus is all tha' Leon has. They willnae risk the loss o' that, even fer a kind heart and a pretty face darlin'”, Jock squeezes my hand again, “But they dinnae attach tae people. They dinnae trust naebody. The wee bastards hae always been that way, it's what banjaxed the chance o' foster placements for them”, Jock laughs ruefully, “Naebody has e'er been a feature in their wee bastard landscape. Then they come back from some bloody dance party, late fer ma lunch again, and all the wee shites would talk about was this girl. You darlin'. Tha's no something I've seen before”, he smiles.
He pats my hand, “Lassie, you make sure you dinnae do anything on purpose tae split those boys, you hear me? All they hae is each other, tha's their strength. Protect that”, he cocks his head at the sound of the boys coming back to the cafe.
I rapidly wipe at my face, trying to hide my tears. Jock winks at me, the message seeming to be, “between us, please lassie”. Lee flops into the chair, arm slung round my shoulders, slapping a pile of papers on the table. Shay does the same, although it emerges that the Post Office is shut and his wages must live in the flat until Monday. Jock scolds and warns, eyes are rolled, papers are swatted at heads. It's jovial and a total shift from the conversations that have occurred in the last hour.
Jocks stands, gathering up the papers, “Right, I'm fer the pub wi' some respectable members of the community. Take this lovely lassie and go behave yoursel’s. I'll take these papers to have a wee look and I'll pick yous both up first thing Monday morning tae go tae the council. I’ll let Brian know yous’ll be late fer work. Again”, he grabs each of the boys in turn, ruffling their hair.
The lads smile and swear at him as I’m pulled into a massive hug, a kiss on the top of the head for me.
Jock holds me firmly by the shoulders, stooping to look me in the eye, “And you, ma wee darlin’, it was a real pleasure tae meet you. Hope tae see lots more of yous around”, he gently pats my cheek.
With a salute to the staff behind the counter, Jock leaves and the cafe suddenly feels empty.
Shay stands and takes my hand, those sapphire blue eyes filled with mischief, “Miserable bastard likes you Little Red”, with a smiling wink, I’m dragged from the cafe as we head back to the car.
Passing some grocers shops, I get a sudden idea, “Give me two minutes, I'll meet you both at the car, yeah?”, with a baffled shrug, the boys carry on walking as I dive into the biggest shop, its frontage laden with bowls of fresh fruit and veg.
I grab a basket, wanting desperately to make the lads feel cared about, Jock’s words still aching in my chest. As I fish around for my wallet, I feel a sense of comfort when I touch its faux-leather exterior in the depths of my bag. I’ve always needed to have my own money. Since I started my first Saturday job at age thirteen, Mum only buys my school uniform, so everything else is down to me (“I never owned anything I didn’t buy myself, what makes you think you’re special, eh girl?”). So I always make sure that I have money in my bank and I’m careful with spending, the constant unease that sits with me makes a financial safety net feel important. With my final pay from the cafe adding weight to my wallet, I’m currently pretty flush. I steam around the shop and with my purchases made, burdened with bags I waddle up the road to where I remember the car was parked.
They’re having a smoke, leaning on the roof, looking like detectives from a low budget cop show. I take in the view as I approach. God you're gorgeous. Both of you.
Shay shifts and swaggers towards me, “Wha’ you been buyin’ Little Red?”, he looks nosily into my bags but I evade his grabby hands and dive into the back seat, hiding my blue-carrier-bagged treasures. Chatting about the plans for the Garage club night later, we weave our way through the busy roads. The boys have been to this club once before and had a good time. Tonight, one of the boys from their work is MC-ing and has invited them onto the guest list, the club sufficiently far from sources of trouble to feel safe. Ti too should be OK in neutral territory.
As I dump the bags on their grotty kitchen table, Shay's pleading like a small child, “C'mon Little Red, stop teasin', wha' you bought eh?”
I feel a bit daft and blush, “Umm, this...”, onto the table, I empty the ridiculous quantities of sweets, crisps, cake, drinks and chocolate that I purchased. I smile at Lee whose brown-eyed gaze is soft as Shay jigs about, grinning broadly.
“We never had nobody stay before, if they bring shit like this, we'd have done it more Shortie”, Lee's smirk makes me melt.
We spend the next three hours chilling out in front of the TV, the lack of space on the elephant print sofa prompting the boys to drag their mattresses into the lounge (“Lee, wha’ the fuck is this under your bed man, looks like somethin' died”). There placed, the boys get bedding and pillows and create what amounts to a large super-king sized lounging bed on the floor. We sit and watch crap TV and eat our snacks, guzzling food and tea. Lots of chat, games consoles and crap films, it's just amazing hanging out with them and I’m glowing from this sense of inclusion.
At one point, Lee bellows from the hallway, “Shay, your room is out of fuckin' control man, where's Shortie sleepin' tonight?”, and there’s a muffled discussion in the kitchen.
They enter the lounge shortly after, flopping back down next to me, “Righ' Little Red, we're all sleepin' here tonight, 'kay? Lee reckons my room’ll end you if you go in there and wha'ever the fuck I found under his bed is still packin' its bags so that ain't happenin'”, Shay sits with his back against the sofa.
Grinning cheekily, Shay pulls me with very little effort to sit in the V of his legs, resting against his chest. Not to be ignored, Lee settles in front of me, placing a pillow on my thigh and sprawling with his head in my lap. I absentmindedly stroke the soft springy spikes of his hair, stroking down his nose like Han does when I’m sleepy. My entire body goosebumps as a kiss is pressed to my neck and my breath hitches as Shay's hand in my hair rolls down my shoulder to gently stroking the exposed flesh of my belly under my crop-top. My gaze never leaves the TV but my heart starts to pound as my skin fizzes. Lee, not to be left out, moves his hand as he reclines and wraps it around the outside of my legs, resting on my knee. He circles his fingers. No higher. No lower. Just there, on my knee. I’m tingling so hard that it’s almost painful, these boys are going to actually kill me in front of Noel Edmonds and Mr. Blobby. Lee shifts his legs out in front of him and in doing so, my hand comes to rest on his chest. I feel his heart rate increase and his nipple harden under my palm as a blush stains my cheeks.
It's about another ten minutes of this delicious nonsense before Shay snaps. As we all stare at the screen in silence, his hand starts to twitch, slowly moving north. His thumb strokes get more bold until, with a jolt of electricity, Shay O'Driscoll’s thumb rubs over my nipple. Pressing silent kisses to my neck, I feel his tongue reach out and lick the oversensitive flesh. It's just too much, I'm melting and we can't do this. Mates. I play-act a stretch, arching my back and causing Lee to shift, bringing this ridiculous torture to an end.
Lee rolls off the mattress and jumps to a stand, “Right, I'm gonna have a shower yeah”, reaching over and tugging gently on my curls, Lee heads to the bathroom.
Sat in Shay's arms, alone, this feels so dangerous. He leans in, pushing my hair from my neck again,
“Fuck, Lor”, he groans out in a whisper against my neck.
I move away, wincing, “Shay, we can't do this, we just can't. What about Lee?”.
I turn to face him, shaking my head and looking at my knees as I mumble, “Lee talked to me at Mission and said that me and him couldn’t do anything because, well, er because...”, I gabble, terrified that Shay’s about to deny it and laugh at me, “...because he said you liked me too Shay and so we could all never be more than mates”, I look at my lap, waiting for ridicule.
For painful seconds, Shay is silent, I look up at him, his sapphire-blue eyes hard looking and I struggle
to identify the emotion.
He pulls himself off the floor onto the sofa behind him, “And wha' do you wanna do, eh Lorna?”, his words are like spikes.
I reel from the sudden shift in dynamics, panic-gabbling, “Shay, I would never, ever do anything to push you and Lee apart but truth is, I really like you both, maybe more than mates and you putting your hand there and kissing my neck, you're proper killing me Shay but we can't do anything because it will hurt Lee and I can't choose”, I don’t meet his sapphire gaze, I feel a sudden urge to run because I’ve just told one of the two fittest lads I've ever met in my life that I bold-as-brass like them. I feel exposed, embarrassed.
He spits, “Fuck this”, as he jumps to his feet and walks to the door, slamming it behind him.
Shay no longer wants me here, my welcome is rescinded. Body slammed yet again by that familiar sting of exclusion, on wobbly legs I stand. With the sound of Lee's shower still running and Shay's bedroom door shut, I grab my bag and my coat and head down the hallway, my heart beating a painful tattoo. I need to find Rosa. In the lift, my trembling hand presses the button to go down and with a newly acquired sense of local geography, I head towards the corner shop that Ti drove us past because it’s the last place I recall spotting a phone box. I pull out Rosa’s note and dial Ti's house number but it rings out with no answer. Rosa's house phone is the same and I feel a wave of fear. I want to go home. I'm done playing this big girls' game, I should never have presumed my place in their world, should never have imagined acceptance. Should never have thought I was wanted.