Keeping 13: Boys of Tommen #2

‘Cork, Claire?’ Hughie deadpanned, leaning against the side of his car. ‘Of all the places in the country we could have gone camping, you chose Cork?’

Winking, Johnny gave me a knowing smirk and continued to haul bags out of the boot of his brand-spanking new Audi A4 – courtesy of his parents – and pass them to Feely. Hughie had been complaining about our camping destination ever since we left the Kavanagh’s house three hours ago, and I was grateful that I got to ride shotgun in Johnny’s car with him and Feely, and not with the others. Katie was in a mood, Gibsie looked mutinous, and Lizzie was her usual raging-self. Hughie and Claire had been fighting since they walked through the door this morning. The only person who seemed to be himself right now was Feely, and I could never take his measure anyway because he was always so quiet. Something was going on – something that had nothing to do with where we were staying tonight – and it was depressing, because today was Johnny’s birthday. He was leaving on Friday. We had two days left together and our friends were fighting.

‘It’s a lovely place,’ Claire said with a heavy sigh. ‘It has a river and it’s surrounded by a woodland.’ Grabbing a selection of green, white, and gold colored rugby ball shaped balloons out of the back of Johnny’s car, she shrugged. ‘It’s absolutely beautiful here, and I promise we’ll have fun.’ Reaching into the back seat, she pulled out two huge red-colored balloons, shaped as the numbers one and eight. ‘Just try to be positive.’

‘Well, I think it’s great, Claire,’ Johnny interjected in a calm tone. ‘I really appreciate all the effort you went to, so thanks a million.’

‘You’re welcome, Johnny,’ Claire replied, sounding relieved.

‘I agree,’ I offered. ‘This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been in my life.’

‘You’ve only been out of Cork once,’ Lizzie drawled. ‘For the Dublin match.’

‘Twice,’ I mumbled, red-faced. ‘I went to Kerry once when I was small.’

‘But you’ve still only been in three places, Shan –’

‘For now,’ Johnny shot back, giving Lizzie a warning look.

‘But this is still Cork, Cap,’ Hughie grumbled.

‘West Cork,’ Gibsie corrected, and there was a hint of warning in his voice as he took a defensive stance in front of Claire. ‘And fuck right off with your pessimistic attitude,’ he added, tucking a slab of Heineken under his arm. ‘At least your sister had the imagination to think this whole trip up. We’d be sitting in Biddies, downing pints and warding off clingers if it wasn’t for her.’ Turning to Claire, he said, ‘Don’t you mind him, babe. You did a great job.’ With his free hand, he tugged on her ponytail, forcing her to look up at him. ‘You keep that head up,’ he ordered, tipping her chin with his thumb. ‘Don’t you dare hide that angel face from the world.’

Claire’s already pink cheeks turned as red as the balloons she was clutching in her hands. ‘Thanks, Gerard.’

‘But we could have gone anywhere,’ Hughie complained. ‘And we’re still in Cork.’

‘Say it one more time and I’ll burn your tent with you in it,’ Gibsie snarled, glaring at Hughie. ‘You think I’m messing? Keep upsetting her and see what fucking happens –’

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa,’ Feely interjected, stepping between the boys. ‘None of that shit on Cap’s birthday.’ Turning to Gibsie, he added, ‘Tone down the testosterone. You’re peaking on the crazy with the death threats, Gibs.’

‘Hughie’s right,’ Lizzie decided to throw her two-cents into the mix. ‘This is a disaster.’

Claire’s eyes filled with tears and she hurried off through the woods in the direction of the camping site, mumbling something about a fly being in her eye.

‘Oh my fucking god!’ Gibsie roared, clearly livid. ‘If any of you have a problem with being here, then get back in your cars and leave!’ Gesturing behind him to where Claire had hurried off, he added, ‘Think very carefully about your next move, because if you’re coming, then you’re going to be happy. You’re going to smile, and you’re going to have a good bastard time. You’re going to eat the cake, you’re going to sing all the happy fucking birthdays, and you’re going to thank that girl for spending the last bloody month organizing this trip for your unworthy asses!’ Exhaling heavily, he looked around at us. ‘We left our heavily pregnant cat at home for this, and Claire’s anxious enough about Cherub without all of you breathing down her neck, so if you upset her, again, I will legit take leave of my senses and lose the fucking plot.’ Eyes bulging, he added, ‘Don’t push me, because I’m already half-way there!’

‘Alright, lad,’ Hughie coaxed, holding his hands up, eyeing Gibsie warily. ‘You won’t hear any more complaints from me.’

Gibsie nodded stiffly before turning his glare on Lizzie. ‘And you?’

‘For Claire’s sake, I’ll suck it up,’ Lizzie bit out.

‘Good.’ Readjusting the slab of beer in his hands, Gibsie said, ‘Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I need to go and find somewhere to take a shit because I’ve been holding one in since we left Ballylaggin – and I had a curry last night, so you can only imagine the pressure I’m under right now.’

‘You go do that, lad,’ Feely mused, slapping a roll of toilet paper on top of the case of beer in Gibsie’s arms before he hurried off into the bushes. ‘We’re all shiny, happy people here.’

‘Now listen up,’ Johnny said, drawing everyone’s attention to him. ‘I personally couldn’t give a shite if you’re happy to be here or not. I don’t care if you’re being a pack of spoilt brats because we’re still in Cork. I don’t care if you don’t particularly like one another. I don’t care if you’re in a fight with each other. I don’t even care that it’s my eighteenth. I. Don’t. Care. Not one iota of fucks do I give about any of that crap,’ he growled, glaring at Katie, Hughie, and Lizzie. ‘I care that I have two days left with my girlfriend – two days – and then I’m gone for the summer. We’ve had a hard year. We’ve had surgeries and funerals, fires and loss. We’ve seen more hospitals and tears than you could comprehend in your little pea brains, and suffered some serious fucking upheaval. This is our break – our little time out from all the shite back home, so you are not going to mess this up for me, and you’re definitely not going to mess this up for her. Are we clear?’

‘As a whistle,’ Feely replied.

‘Not you,’ Johnny shot back. ‘Them.’

‘Jesus, you’re right,’ Hughie said, looking embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry, guys.’

‘Yeah,’ Katie agreed, red-faced. ‘We were being selfish.’

‘Me, too,’ Lizzie sighed. ‘Sorry, Shan, I didn’t even think about what this trip meant for you and Johnny.’

‘A lot,’ Johnny bit out. ‘It means a lot for us.’

They all nodded in understanding.

‘Then let’s get this show on the road,’ Feely declared, grabbing an armful of bags. ‘Onwards and upwards.’

Ignoring the huffing and puffing around me, I focused my attention on ogling my boyfriend, appreciating the way the blue swimming trunks he was wearing hung low on his indented hips. There was this deep V between his hipbones, a clear sign that he took very good care of his body, and a trail of dark hair from his navel that disappeared beneath the waistband of his shorts. His thighs were just so thick with muscle – his calves, too. Everything about Johnny was just so tight, and toned, and huge.

‘Like what you see?’ he asked, catching me staring.

I blushed beetroot red. ‘Uh, sorry?’

Chuckling softly to himself, Johnny closed the boot of his car and grabbed our bags off the ground. ‘Come on, my little peeping-tom,’ he teased, slinging an arm over my shoulder. ‘But don’t feel bad for staring.’ He leaned close to my ear before whispering, ‘I’ve been doing some peeping of my own.’

‘Yeah.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Sure you have.’

‘Are you kidding me? You’re wearing a white vest and no bra. You’re lucky I didn’t crash the bleeding car on the way up here, I was staring at you so hard,’ he shot back with a wolfish grin. ‘I was winding that car window down and willing the breeze to get you.’

‘Oh my god,’ I laughed, wrapping an arm around him. ‘You’re so weird.’

‘Yeah, that’s probably true,’ he agreed with a chuckle. ‘This is going to be a good trip, Shan.’

‘Yeah.’ I sighed contently. ‘I think you’re right.’

‘You’re doing it wrong again!’ Lizzie hissed, shoving at Gibsie’s chest when he attempted to help her and Claire erect their tent. ‘You’re so bloody clueless.’

‘Do you see mine and Feely’s pitched tent over there?’ Gibsie bit out tightly, threading the pole through the fabric. ‘Looks a lot better than yours, doesn’t it? Because I know what I’m doing, so get off my back!’

‘But the instructions say you’re supposed to do it this way,’ Lizzie continued to argue, waving a sheet of paper in his face. ‘Would you just put that damn pole down and look at this! Come on, don’t be thick and just look at the instructions!’

‘Oh, yeah sure. No problem –’ Grabbing the instructions out of her hands, Gibsie balled the paper up and threw it in the river. ‘That’s what I think of your instructions.’

‘Why did you do that?’ Lizzie demanded, slapping his chest again. ‘I was trying to show you –’

‘Because I can’t fucking read them,’ he roared in her face. ‘And I don’t need you to show me anything.’

‘Guys, stop,’ Claire warned, stepping in between them. ‘Liz, don’t push him.’

‘It was a picture,’ Lizzie screamed right back at him, stepping around Claire to get up in Gibsie’s face again. ‘I wasn’t mocking your learning difficulties.’

‘No, of course you weren’t,’ he shot back with a sneer. ‘You were just calling me thick and clueless for the fun of it.’ Bristling, he shook his head and continued threading the pole through the hoops in the fabric of the tent. ‘It’s all just shits and giggles for you, isn’t it, Liz? You can say whatever the hell you want to anyone and we’re all supposed to just take it because you have issues.’

‘Don’t you dare, Gibs,’ Lizzie hissed, eyes narrowed, as she continued to shove at Gibsie, pushing him backwards. ‘Don’t you fucking dare bring that up!’

‘Guys, come away from the bank,’ Claire ordered in a worried tone. ‘You’re going to fall into the river.’

‘Why not?’ Gibsie demanded, backing away from Lizzie, and moving precariously close to the edge of the water bank. ‘You clearly have a huge one with me, so why don’t you just get it off your chest?’ he taunted. ‘Once and for all.’

Panicked, I looked around for Johnny but he was gone back to the carpark to collect the last of our things with Hughie.

‘Just stay back,’ Katie whispered in my ear, placing a hand on my shoulder. ‘Those two are like a volcano that’s been waiting to erupt for years.’ Sighing, she added, ‘And you don’t need to be near it when it happens, Shan.’

‘Whoa,’ Feely called out, sprinting out of his and Gibsie’s tent and moving towards them. ‘Let’s just take it back a notch, everyone –’

‘You know what he did to her,’ Lizzie snarled. ‘You know what he cost me!’

‘I’m not him!’ Gibsie roared at the top of his lungs, throwing his hands up in the air. ‘I had nothing to do with that!’

‘What the hell is going on?’ Johnny and Hughie demanded in unison as they jogged through the tree line towards the camp. ‘Hey – stop it, the pair of ye!’

‘Gibs, get away from the water –’ Hughie started to call out, but his voice was drowned out by Lizzie’s high-pitched scream.

‘He’s your family!’ Lizzie screamed and then shoved at Gibsie’s chest. ‘And you’re just like him!’ Like a scene from a horror movie, I watched as Lizzie shoved Gibsie again, causing him to tumble over the edge of the bank.

The moment Gibsie fell into the water, all hell broke loose.

‘Oh my god, he’s drowning!’

‘Get him out!’

‘Gibs, hold on, lad!’

Panicked, I moved to jump in after him, but I couldn’t because I didn’t know how to swim. With my heart in my mouth, I watched as he completely froze up in the water, eyes wide and full of terror, before he started to sink like a stone. He didn’t even flail or flap around. He just froze.

Johnny, Hughie, and Feely all ran past me then, jumping into the river after him.

‘Gerard!’ Claire screamed, rushing towards the bank. ‘Gerard!’

‘I’m sorry,’ Lizzie choked out, looking like she was in shock. ‘I didn’t mean –’

‘Why would you do that to him, Lizzie?’ Claire began to scream. And then she did something I never expected her to do. She slapped Lizzie across the face. ‘He’s afraid of water, you heartless bitch,’ Claire continued to scream. ‘And you know he is.’

Lizzie shook her head, looking like she was in the first stage of shock. ‘I didn’t mean – I didn’t – I swear –’

‘You’re okay, buddy,’ Hughie coaxed, holding Gibsie’s pale face in between his hands and out of the water, as Johnny swam back towards the bank with his trembling frame slung over his shoulder. ‘We’ve got you,’ Hughie continued to say in a soothing tone, treading the water, as Feely hauled himself back onto the riverbank. ‘We’re right here. You’re with us, okay? You’re not back there. That’s it – good job, lad. Just keep nice and calm…’

‘Have you got him?’ Johnny demanded, breathing hard, as he thrust Gibsie’s limp body towards Feely who was lying on his stomach, leaning over the edge of the bank, with his arms stretched out to take their friend. ‘Don’t let him go, Pa –’

‘I have him, Cap,’ Feely replied, grabbing Gibsie under the arms. ‘I won’t let you go, buddy.’

Gibsie looked like a frightened little boy, frozen in shock, as Feely hauled him out of the water and onto the muddy bank.

He collapsed on his hands and knees at the edge, and the sounds that were coming from his throat were gut-wrenching. It was almost like the keening noise of a wounded animal.

‘Good, man,’ Feely panted, dropping down beside Gibsie and placing a hand on his back. ‘Shh, you’re safe.’

Johnny hauled himself out of the water next, followed swiftly by Hugh, and then all three of the boys were kneeling beside Gibsie, whispering words I couldn’t make out in his ear.

Frozen to the spot, I watched as Gibsie scrambled away from the river bank on his hands and knees, not stopping until his back was pressed to the trunk of a nearby tree. He was shaking violently, with his head bowed, and his hands clasped loosely around his knees, clearly wrestling to get his breathing under control.

‘It’s okay, Gerard,’ Claire soothed as she knelt in front of him with a towel in her hand. ‘Shh…’ With aching tenderness, she gently dabbed at his face and hair. ‘I’m right here with you.’ Moving onto his shoulders, she gently dried him off with the towel before wrapping it around his shoulders and cupping his pale face in her hands. ‘Deep breaths.’ Pressing her forehead to his, she stroked his cheeks and whispered, ‘I’ll keep you safe.’

‘Is he okay?’ Katie asked, sounding concerned. ‘Gibs?’

‘He’d be a lot better if all of you stopped staring at him,’ Claire hissed, shifting her body so that Gibsie’s face was hidden from view from the rest of us. ‘He’s not a fucking circus!’

Whoa…

‘Gibsie, I’m sorry,’ Lizzie blurted out, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she rushed towards him. ‘I swear, I didn’t mean to –’

‘Get away from him!’ Claire snarled, taking a defensive stance in front of a boy who was more than twice her size. ‘Get back. All of you!’

‘I didn’t mean it,’ Lizzie choked out. ‘I swear –’

‘Just give it a bleeding rest,’ Johnny growled, climbing to his feet. ‘You could have killed him.’

‘I know, and I’m so sorry!’ Lizzie sobbed, shaking her head. ‘I didn’t mean it –’

‘You never mean it,’ Hughie muttered, stalking over to Katie, who was holding a towel out for him. ‘But we’re all getting really tired of hearing that excuse, Liz.’

‘I said I’m sorry –’

‘Well, sorry doesn’t bleeding cut it this time.’

‘You can chalk that down, Cap.’

‘You could have killed him! What part of that don’t you get?’

‘Guys, stop,’ I choked out, feeling a huge swell of sympathy for Lizzie, who looked genuinely remorseful – and seconds away from a nervous breakdown. ‘She didn’t mean it.’

‘She meant it, Shannon!’ Hughie snapped.

‘Hey – don’t snap at her,’ Johnny warned, coming to stand in front of me.

‘I wasn’t.’

‘You fucking were!’Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

‘Alright, lads, just simmer on down,’ Feely interjected. ‘Lizzie knows she was wrong, she’s clearly sorry, so there’s no need to start throwing shit at her – or each other.’

‘But she –’ Hughie started to object, but Feely cut him off.

‘You’re perfect now, Hugh?’ he asked, arching a brow. ‘And you, Kav?’ He turned to Johnny. ‘You’ve never lost your head in a fight?’

‘We’ve never tried to drown anyone,’ Hughie shot back, glowering at Lizzie.

‘She didn’t try to drown him,’ Feely stated calmly. ‘Don’t be so fucking dramatic. She lost her temper and pushed him. He fell in and panicked. We know why. It’s shit, it’s sucks, it happened, now let’s get on with it.’

‘And I’m so sorry,’ Lizzie sobbed.

‘They know,’ Feely replied. Turning to Lizzie, he crooked a finger and said, ‘Come here.’

‘Wh-what?’

‘I said come here,’ he repeated in a no-nonsense tone of voice. ‘Now.’ Stunned, I watched as Lizzie complied without a word and walked over to him. ‘Now, you and I are going to go for a walk and let them all cool off,’ Feely said, taking ahold of her hand. ‘And we’re going to come back when everyone here remembers that they’re not perfect angels.’

‘O-okay.’ Sniffling, Lizzie nodded and let Feely lead her away from the campsite.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked, following Johnny as he walked over to our tent and crawled inside. ‘Johnny?’

‘I’m grand, Shan,’ he replied, digging a towel out of his bag. ‘I’m just a bit rattled.’ Sinking down on his knees, he toweled off his chest and back before sighing heavily. ‘This day is a bleeding disaster.’

‘Not necessarily,’ I offered, scooting onto my knees to watch him clean up.

‘They’re all fighting,’ he grumbled, dragging the towel through his hair.

‘We’re not,’ I whispered.

He paused and lowered the towel. ‘True.’

‘And we’re together,’ I added, smiling.

He smiled back at me. ‘Another truth.’

‘What happened back there, Johnny?’ I asked then, desperately trying to keep my eyes off his lower half when he slipped his wet swimming trunks off and tossed them out of the opening of our tent. ‘Can Gibsie not swim?’

‘He can swim,’ Johnny corrected, rummaging around for a clean pair of boxers. ‘He just panicked.’

‘Why?’

‘His father and sister drowned when he was small,’ Johnny muttered, brows furrowed, as he concentrated on pulling on his jocks. ‘They got into trouble out at sea or something like that.’ Shrugging, he added, ‘He’s had an issue with water ever since.’

‘Oh my god,’ I strangled out, heart cracking clean open in my chest. ‘When did this happen?’

‘His Holy Communion day, I think? So that would have made him seven?’ Johnny replied, tone hoarse. Giving up on pulling his jocks up his wet legs, he kicked them back off and covered himself with a towel instead. ‘It was a long time before I moved down to Cork. He’s only ever spoken about it once to me, and that was when I was eleven, so it’s all a bit hazy, but I remember him telling me that his parents were going through a shitbomb of a separation at the time. I’m not sure of the ins and outs of it, but it was really bleeding messy, babe – affairs galore. Anyway, they all rallied together for the day that was in it and threw a massive joint party for both Gibs and Hughie.’

‘Hughie?’

‘Well yeah, it was his communion, too, Shan,’ Johnny explained. ‘And their two families have always been close. They were practically raised together.’

‘Oh.’ I nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘Anyway, his stepdad Keith had spent a fortune to have the party at this flashy hotel by the coast for Gibs,’ Johnny continued, ‘and his father wanted to outdo him, so he rented a boat and took a bunch of them out on the water.’

‘Oh no,’ I croaked out, covering my mouth with my hands, not sure if I wanted to hear the rest of this story.

‘They got into some sort of trouble,’ Johnny said. ‘I don’t know all of the details, but Gibsie and his sister Bethany got knocked overboard.’

A sob tore through me. ‘No.’

Johnny sighed sadly. ‘Their Da went in for them, but he didn’t come back out.’ Releasing a heavy sigh, he added, ‘His sister didn’t either.’

Oh my god. ‘What about Gibsie?’ I strangled out, dabbing at the tears trickling down my cheeks. ‘How did he get out?’

‘That’s the part he won’t tell me,’ Johnny muttered. ‘I know it has something to do with the Biggs family – and maybe even Claire? But I presume one of them swam out and saved him.’ He shrugged again, looking a little helpless. ‘He doesn’t talk about it, and I don’t push.’

‘How old was she?’

Johnny paused and thought about it for a moment before responding. ‘Gibs was seven, so she would have been two or three?’

My heart broke. ‘She was only a baby?’

‘Yeah.’ Johnny exhaled a heavy sigh. ‘She would have been about Sean’s age.’

‘Oh my god.’ I shook my head, struggling to comprehend what I’d just heard. ‘I can’t believe this.’

‘We all have our secrets,’ Johnny replied quietly. ‘We’re all a little fractured, Shan.’

‘Can Gerard and I have your keys?’ Claire’s voice filled my ears seconds before her head popped through the opening of our tent. Without a word, Johnny grabbed his keys off the tent floor and handed them to her. ‘Thanks,’ she replied before disappearing once more.

‘Do you think he should be driving after what happened?’ I asked, worried.

Johnny shrugged. ‘Probably not, but he needs space,’ he told me, brows set in a deep frown as he focused on plucking wet strands of grass off his shin and then tossing them away. ‘He’ll go for a drive with her, she’ll do whatever she does that brings him back down, and then he’ll bounce back again.’

‘Claire?’

‘Claire,’ he confirmed with a nod.

‘I think they have secrets,’ I admitted, shifting closer to him.

‘I think you’re right,’ Johnny agreed. ‘But whatever he needs right now, he’ll get that from her.’ Shaking his head, he added, ‘I can’t give it to him.’

‘What about you?’ I asked in a gentle tone. He was trying to put on a brave face, but I saw the concern in his eyes earlier – the sheer helplessness. ‘What do you need right now?’

Johnny reached over and pulled me onto his lap. ‘I have everything I need right here.’

‘Do you think they’ll sort it out?’ I asked then.

‘Who – Claire and Lizzie, or Gibs and Lizzie?’

‘All of them?’

Johnny shrugged. ‘Yeah, they’ll be grand. He’ll come back in an hour or two, all smiles and jokes. He’ll brush it under the rug, and that will be that.’

‘You think?’

‘I know him, Shannon,’ he replied. ‘That’s how he copes. Humor is his thing.’

‘I don’t want everyone to be mad at her,’ I whispered. ‘She’s going through a lot.’

‘Shan –’

‘I’m serious,’ I told him, begging him with my eyes to hear me. ‘Please, just don’t hold a grudge over this.’

‘I’m raging over what she did to him,’ he admitted honestly.

‘I know,’ I coaxed, straddling his hips. ‘But when she comes back with Feely, can you make an effort? For me?’

He stared hard at me for a long moment before blowing out a breath. ‘Fine.’

‘Thanks.’ I smiled. ‘I know you find Lizzie hard work – and she is – but there’s so much more to her than meets the eye.’ I reached for his hand and squeezed. ‘She’s all prickles, but there’s a good person under that. She’s a lot like Joey in ways. She makes it very hard for people to love her, but it’s a defense mechanism. Trust me, I know.’

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Johnny grumbled, not looking impressed.

‘So, you’ll be nice to her?’

‘I’ll be nice,’ he confirmed grimly. ‘For you.’

‘I got you a present,’ I said then, trying to steer the conversation into gentler waters. ‘It’s really nothing special, but I can give it to you now, if you want?’

‘You got me a present?’ Johnny’s brows shot up and he craned his neck back to look at me. ‘Shan, you didn’t have to do that.’

‘It’s your eighteenth birthday,’ I replied. ‘Of course, I got you a present.’ Rolling off his lap, I held a hand up. ‘But fair warning, it’s nothing as amazing as that flashy car your parents bought you.’

‘She’s sweet, huh?’ he chuckled. ‘She purrs like a dream.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Entirely uninterested in talking cars with him, I reached into my bag and rummaged around until my fingers found the book inside. ‘I made it myself,’ I told him, as I pulled out the scrapbook and thrust it into his hands. ‘And if it’s bad, or you don’t like it, you can just throw it away – I swear I won’t mind.’ Clasping my hands together on my lap, I shrugged, feeling nervous. ‘Happy birthday, Johnny.’

‘You made me a book?’ His voice was deep and gruff as he opened the cover and stared. ‘Of me?’

‘Well, it’s more of a scrapbook,’ I explained. ‘Detailing your career from the minis all the way up to here –’ I reached over and flipped to the back page to where I had photocopied his letter of acceptance from the Irish rugby academy and taped it inside. ‘It’s like an itinerary of your life in rugby.’ I blew out a shaky breath. ‘Is it okay?’

‘Shan…’ He shook his head and flicked through page after page of newspaper clippings and photographs of him from the age of six to eighteen. ‘Where did you find all this?’

‘Your Mam helped me,’ I told him. ‘When I told her what I wanted to make for you, she took me up to the attic where she has at least thirty boxes of newspapers and trophies and god knows what else.’

‘She does?’ he asked, not taking his eyes off the book.

‘Yeah.’ I nodded. ‘It’s like a shrine to you in that attic. I’ve never seen so much memorabilia belonging to one person in my life.’ Shrugging, I added, ‘You’re kind of famous, Johnny Kavanagh.’

A small smile ghosted his lips and he tapped his finger against the book. ‘I love this.’

I sagged in relief. ‘You do?’

Nodding, he closed the book and looked at me. ‘And I love you.’

‘I love you, too,’ I replied, smiling back at him.

‘I mean it, Shan.’ His tone was serious; his eyes blazing with heat. ‘I really do mean it.’

‘I believe you,’ I whispered, heart fluttering with excitement.

‘If I could take you with me, I would,’ he choked out, setting the book back down and pulling me onto his lap once more. ‘I don’t want to leave you.’

My heart sank. ‘You have to go, Johnny.’

He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my neck. ‘I’m so sad.’

‘Don’t be sad,’ I begged. ‘Be happy.’

‘I am,’ he croaked out. ‘But I’m just…I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I feel like I just got you, and now I have to leave – ‘ His words broke off and he groaned into my neck. ‘I’m not ready to give it all up.’

‘Give what up?’ I whispered, trailing my fingers through his hair. ‘Hmm?’

‘My youth,’ he admitted quietly.

‘Johnny, you’re still young,’ I coaxed.

‘I’m not talking about my age,’ he mumbled. ‘I’m talking about you – and those fuckers out there,’ he added, pointing a finger at the tent opening. ‘And your annoying little brothers.’ He shook his head and sighed heavily. ‘I’m not ready to give it all up, Shan.’

‘You can do this.’ I forced the words out of my mouth when all I wanted to do was scream don’t go instead. But I wouldn’t be selfish with him. He needed to do this, and I needed to support him. ‘And it’s only for the summer.’

He stiffened for a moment before nodding. ‘Yeah, I know.’

‘Do you want the rest of your present?’ I coaxed, desperate to cheer him up before we both ended up miserable. ‘Hmm?’

‘There’s more?’

Smirking, I pushed him onto his back and whipped his towel away. ‘If you want more?’

‘Oh fuck,’ he growled, nodding in appreciation, as his hands moved to my hips. ‘I definitely want more.’

Later that night, everyone seemed to have calmed down and were genuinely enjoying themselves. The tents had been pitched, the cake had been eaten, the arguments had been put to bed, the apologies had been accepted, and the sullen faces had been replaced with loose, drunken smiles – courtesy of the half dozen slabs of beer and other alcoholic concoctions on offer.

Sitting around a campfire at the edge of the river, with Johnny’s arms wrapped around me, I listened intently to the banter and jokes that were going ninety. Gibsie and Lizzie had formed a silent truce of sorts and were sitting on either side of Feely, acting like nothing had happened between them earlier. I wasn’t sure what to make of it if I was being honest, but I had to admit that pretending to get along with one another was a lot better than outright war. Claire was sitting on Gibsie’s other side, and Hughie and Katie had just returned from a twenty-minute toilet break behind a nearby tree, looking all flushed and barely put together.

As I stared into the amber flames, I felt a sudden pang of guilt for feeling so happy. My mother’s face flashed into my mind, followed swiftly by the image of Joey’s haunted eyes the last time I saw him. The emotions that swept through me were so overwhelming that it caused me to flinch and drop the bottle of beer I had been sipping.

‘And we have a lightweight,’ Gibsie cheered from across the fire, clearly back to his happy-go-lucky antics. ‘Little Shannon,’ he tutted, grinning. ‘Spilling your drink on the fifth bottle?’ He shook his head, feigning disappointment. ‘What are we going to do with you, huh?’

Recovering before my grief could get the better of me, I blinked back the sting of tears in my eyes and slapped on a bright smile. ‘Cut me some slack,’ I joked, forcing humor into my voice, as I set my bottle upright on the ground. ‘It’s my first time drinking.’

Chuckling, Gibsie turned his attention back to Feely who was playing on his guitar and belting out a verse of Tim O’Riordan’s The Langer Song. All of our friends were singing along with him, laughing their arses off in the process, but I couldn’t focus on the funny lyrics or the sound of Feely’s beautiful voice because my mind was stuck on my family.

‘What’s wrong?’ Johnny whispered in my ear and the smell of alcohol on his breath hit me like a wrecking ball. He was slurring a little from the empty slab of Heineken beside him, and even though he was his usually gentle self, my father’s face just wouldn’t leave my mind.

‘What’s wrong with ya, girl?’

‘What’s fucking wrong with you now?’

‘Go to sleep now, Shannon. Just close your eyes and it’ll all be better in the morning…’

‘Shan?’ Johnny asked again, dragging me back from the edge of my depressing thoughts.

‘Hmm?’

‘What’s wrong, babe?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Your body went all funny,’ he slurred, thankfully keeping his voice low enough so that only I could hear him. ‘You got stiff and then you went all jumpy-jumpy, and then you laughed, but it wasn’t your laugh…it was like a ‘ha-ha-ha, I’m laughing, but I’m not really laughing’ kind of laugh.’

Whoa…

‘Are you okay?’ he pressed, nuzzling my cheek with his nose. ‘Are you tired? Do you want to go to bed or something? In my dick tent?’

‘Your what?’

‘My pitched tent,’ he slurred.

‘No, I’m fine.’

‘Uh-oh,’ he mumbled. ‘That’s a bad word… Am I in trouble?’

‘No, it’s just the smell of alcohol,’ I admitted, turning my face so that I could look at him. His eyes were glassy and his cheeks were flushed. He looked happy. He looked like everything my father wasn’t, but that smell was still there. Still on him. ‘It was on your breath and you just –’

‘Reminded you of him?’

I blew out a shaky breath and nodded guiltily. ‘Sorry.’

‘I’m not drunk, Shan,’ Johnny slurred and then scrunched his nose up. ‘Okay, I might be slightly drunk,’ he amended, clearly very drunk. ‘But it’s only ’cause it’s my eighteenth.’

‘I know,’ I hurried to soothe him, feeling terrible. ‘And I want you to enjoy yourself, Johnny –’

‘I know I’m talking a bit funny – I can hear my own voice and that’s never a good thing… hang on, what was I saying?’ He shook his head and focused on my face once more. ‘Oh yeah – that won’t happen to us.’ He reached up and cupped my cheek. ‘I will never hurt you, baby,’ he whispered, brushing his nose against mine. ‘Never ever, ever – not in a trillion, zillion years.’

‘I know,’ I breathed, heart-racing.

‘You’re my little darling,’ he slurred. ‘My whole heart’s inside of ya.’

My heart hammered in my chest. ‘Johnny…’

‘You’ll never be her,’ he continued to ramble. ‘And I’ll never be him.’

‘You promise?’

He nodded. ‘I promise a million, billion promises.’

Shivering, I slowly relaxed against him. ‘I love you, Johnny Kavanagh.’

‘And you know that I love you back, my little, blue river,’ he slurred. ‘Now, I know I’m fairly langers, but I could be a thousand percent langers and you’d still be safe with me.’ Smiling loosely, he added, ‘And you’d still be the best thing these eyes have ever seen.’ He pointed at his own eyeballs. ‘Yep, these ones love looking at you. Fuck, now I’m hard again.’

‘I thought you said you were only slightly drunk?’ I questioned, stifling a giggle and oh yep, he was definitely hard again. I could feel him growing beneath me.

‘Shh.’ He pressed his finger against my lips. ‘You’re drunk.’

‘No,’ I laughed, feeling myself loosen up with his playfulness. ‘You’re drunk.’

‘I’m horny,’ he declared gruffly. ‘And that’s not sensible.’ He shook his head. ‘Nope, that’s not a good plan, Shan, because I’m a Johnny with no johnnies.’

‘Johnny!’

‘I know I’m hard,’ he continued to ramble on. ‘I can feel my dick trying to break out of my shorts to get to you, but I don’t know exactly where my dick is right now, do you?’

‘Yeah, I can feel it rubbing against me,’ I chuckled. ‘I promise, it’s still in your pants.’

‘Oh, thank god,’ he sighed a huge gasp of relief. ‘I keep thinking it’s gonna be gone.’ Squirming, he added, ‘They put a lot of needles near it, Shan.’

‘I know, baby,’ I soothed, trying not to laugh at him. ‘It’s terrible.’

‘It was fucking terrible,’ he told me, nodding eagerly. ‘All the blood, and the blue balls, and the…’ He shrugged and stared down at my lap for several beats before groaning loudly. ‘Ah shite – look, Shan! It’s definitely gone.’

‘Oh, Johnny.’ I shook my head and kissed him. ‘You’re a big dope.’

‘Hmm.’ He pulled my bottom lip into his mouth and sucked. ‘Sorry,’ he apologized, releasing my lip with a loud pop. ‘I just wanted a small taste of you.’

Oh god…

‘Lads, lads, lads, shut up, will ya? I have a song for ye!’ Gibsie announced as he jerked to his feet, only to fall over the log he had been sitting on and land on his back in a heap. ‘Feely – strum me a chord, will ya?’ he called out as he lay on the flat of his back with a cigarette balancing between his lips. ‘Good man yourself.’

Everyone screamed with laughter as Gibsie cleared his throat and started to sing his own drunken rendition of Richie Kavanagh’s My Girlfriends Pussy Cat at the top of his lungs. Smirking, he locked eyes on Claire, and I knew right there and then that he was directing every word to her. He was singing these words at her and he wanted her to know he meant the opposite of the lyrics.

‘I’m a great sailor,’ Johnny declared, distracting me from Gibsie’s hilarious meow noises. ‘Did you know that?’

‘No.’ Smiling, I turned fully in his arms now. ‘You like to sail?’

‘I’d love to sail,’ he purred, reaching down to squeeze my ass. ‘Down your river again.’

‘Oh.’ Awareness dawned on me and I blushed bright red. ‘Well, in that case, you’re an excellent sailor.’

‘I know, right?’ he said with a proud grin. ‘Years of practice.’

I scrunched my nose up. ‘Uh, yeah…’

‘Oops.’ He slapped a hand over his mouth. ‘I fucked up.’

‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘You kind of did.’

‘Should I get the dick boat out?’ he asked, eyes wide.

‘No, Johnny,’ I laughed, too amused to be put out by his overshare. ‘Not here.’

‘Well, I only sail one river now,’ he amended with a frown. ‘That’s yours –’ He paused to point at me. ‘In case you were wondering.’

‘Okay,’ I chuckled. ‘I got that. Thanks, though.’

‘No, thank you,’ he purred before heaving out a loud sigh. ‘I need a piss.’

‘Uh, okay?’

‘I can’t,’ he replied, looking forlorn.

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m hard.’

‘Oh my god –’ Chuckling, I wrapped my arms around his neck and cuddled him. ‘You make me so happy.’

‘I’m gonna make you proud when I’m gone,’ he declared, wrapping his arms around me, and tipping half of his bottle of beer down my hoodie in the process. ‘And I’m gonna keep my dick in my pants.’

‘Uh, thanks?’

‘Sure, sure,’ he agreed, still slurring. ‘Oh shite, babe, did I make you wet?’

‘Uh, just a little bit,’ I confirmed, wincing when the liquid trickled down my back. Slipping my hoodie off, I rolled it into a ball and threw it in the direction of our tent. ‘That didn’t go as far as I planned,’ I noted, eyeing my hoodie less than five feet from where we were sitting. ‘Maybe you should have thrown it for me.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Johnny replied encouragingly before downing the last of his bottle and then staring into the rim of the bottle, looking all lonesome and cute when nothing else came out. ‘Looked like a perfect line out to me.’

‘It would look that way to you,’ I chuckled, thoroughly enjoying this version of him now.

‘Where was I?’ Johnny asked, looking confused.

‘You were talking about keeping your dick in your pants when you’re away with the team.’

‘Ah, that’s the one!’ He winked and nodded in approval. ‘And then I’m gonna make all my big plans with you when I come home.’

‘Oh, you have big plans?’

‘Big, big ones,’ he confirmed. ‘I like kids, do you?’

‘Uh, yeah, sure.’ I blinked. ‘I like kids, Johnny.’

‘Then we’ll have some,’ he announced. ‘I’ll do the rugby thing, and you’ll do the vet thing, and then we’ll settle down and cook up some babies.’ He smiled. ‘Good talk.’

‘You think I’m going to be a vet?’ I asked, completely bypassing the crazy baby talk. ‘Me? A vet?’

‘Of course,’ he slurred. ‘You’re so smart, baby, with your science and your way with all the animals. My dog loves you. Brian loves you. My dick loves you. Fuck, you’ll be the sexiest vet I’ve ever seen.’

‘But I only told you that once,’ I whispered, thinking back to one of the random conversations we had at night when Johnny slipped into my room. ‘I can’t believe you remembered that – and especially in your current state.’

‘You only ever have to tell me a thing, one time, and it sticks.’ He tapped his temple. ‘I keep track of all your words right there.’

‘You’re a brain box,’ I teased. ‘Do you know that?’

‘I am,’ he agreed. ‘It’s like whoa in my head all the time.’

‘That’s because you’re so smart,’ I reassured him. ‘You’re always thinking.’

‘Hmm.’

‘What’s the hmm about?’

‘I’m not smart with you,’ he slurred. ‘It goes away when I’m with you.’

‘Is that bad?’

‘It’s so fucking good,’ he groaned. ‘I just…fuck, I need to stop talking.’

‘No, keep talking,’ I coaxed, curious. ‘Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?’

‘In my head right now?’

I nodded. ‘Yeah, right now.’

‘Your tits, your ass, your legs, and your perfect pussy,’ he came right out and said. ‘I just wanna fuck you, and eat you, and lick you, and touch you, and … Jesus, I don’t even know what else there is to do to you, but I know I wanna do that, too.’

‘Johnny,’ I breathed, trembling.

‘Maybe you should get drunk,’ he suggested then. ‘Maybe that way I won’t get in too much trouble?’

‘Yeah.’ Trembling, I reached for my bottle. ‘Maybe I should.’

Hungover didn’t begin to describe the battering my head was taking when I came to the following morning, withered up on the floor of our tent. My stomach was conducting a civil war against my upchuck reflexes and I didn’t dare move a muscle, terrified of who might win. Laying perfectly still, I opened my poor eyes, groaning when the sunshine attacked my ability to see straight.

‘I’m dying,’ I whimpered, praying for some salvation, or at the very least a little divine intervention. ‘Dear god, save me.’

A pained groan came from somewhere close by, and with great effort, I managed to turn my head to the side and find Johnny. He looked as bad as I felt and was squirming in what looked like physical pain. ‘Make it stop,’ his deep voice begged. Twisting onto his stomach, he face-planted the floor and then groaned loudly. ‘Close the curtains or something, Shan, fucking anything – ‘ Burying his face in his pillow, he pleaded. ‘Just make the sun stop shining.’

‘I can’t,’ I wailed, feeling terribly sorry for myself. ‘I’m on the way out here, Johnny.’

It must have taken great effort from him, but I felt a heavy arm slump over my stomach, and then his fingers were trailing over my flesh in small circles. ‘At least we’ll go together,’ he coaxed, face still buried in his pillow. ‘We’ve had a good run of it.’

‘But I’m naked,’ I croaked out. ‘I don’t want to die naked.’

‘Won’t matter when we’re dead,’ he declared, equally naked beside me.

Hungover as I was, I couldn’t resist the urge to sweep my gaze over his naked form, eyes lingering on his bare ass. ‘Did we, uh…’ Shivering, I folded my arms across my bare breasts. ‘Did we do it last night?’

‘Do what?’

‘Have sex?’

‘No sex.’ Giving my hip a little squeeze, he buried his face back into his pillow, and star-fished the floor. ‘Just sleep.’

Unconvinced, I peeked around for the evidence of a foil wrapper, only to panic when I didn’t find one.

‘But we’re naked,’ I croaked out. I tentatively shifted my hips and felt that familiar ache.

‘I know,’ he mumbled. ‘Now sleep, Shan. Please. I have to drive us back home in a few hours and I’m trying to sweat the Jameson out of me, baby.’

‘Oh, okay.’ Squirming from the ache between my legs, I mirrored his actions and carefully rolled onto my stomach, watching him sleep.

My silence lasted all of seven minutes before I reached over and poked the ridiculously large bicep flexed around a pillow. ‘Hey – are you sure we didn’t have sex?’

Groaning under his breath, Johnny attempted a sleepy nod. ‘Hundred percent.’

‘I feel like something’s been inside of me, Johnny,’ I squeezed out, shivering as my body drowned in the feeling of being thoroughly satiated. ‘Maybe not full on penetration,’ I amended. Tingling ripples of pleasure and excitement darted through me at the thought. ‘But there was definitely something inside me.’

‘Yeah,’ Johnny replied, peering up at me through one squinted blue eye. He held up his hand and twiddled his fingers. ‘These.’

‘Oh.’ Heat crept up my body. ‘Okay.’

‘Night, love you,’ he mumbled, closing his eyes once more.

‘But it’s morning.’

‘Shh…sleep.’

Feeling needy, I braced myself and slowly wiggled over to his body. He was burning up, his skin hot and welcoming. Snuggling in to his side, I stroked my cheek against his shoulder.

‘I’m trying to die in peace here, Shannon,’ he groaned. ‘And you’re giving my dick notions.’

‘I’m cold.’ Shivering, I sidled closer to his big body that resembled a furnace 24/7.

‘It’s like thirty degrees outside,’ he noted, lifting himself up on his elbows to look at me. ‘You can’t be cold.’

‘I am,’ I argued, shivering. ‘I’m perished.’

Rolling onto his side, Johnny gave my body a slow appraisal from head to toe. ‘Ah, shite,’ he grumbled, throwing a thigh over mine and dropping his head on my chest. ‘That’s my plan for the day gone out the window.’

‘What?’ I whispered, greedily welcoming his warmth by wrapping my arms around him and holding him close. ‘What’s wrong?’

He clamped a hand on my hip and exhaled a contented sigh. ‘I can’t be getting notions of dying when you’re looking like that.’