“Just fuck off now, mate. I think you’ve done enough damage for one day.”
“Danielle, we have t-“
“Out, now. I mean it.”
“That night when-“
“I said fucking go, man.”
Danielle turns to see the two boys interlocked. It looks like they’re hugging until one falls to the ground, dragging the other with him. They scramble about the grass, grunting and badly aiming their fists towards one another.
“Tell her!”
“No!”
“Then I will.”
“Naw you won’t.”
“Tell me what?”
They look up from their wrestling match to see Danielle leering over them.
“Now isn’t the time. You’ve heard enough already,” Ritchie climbs to his feet.
“No, now is the perfect time, Ritchie. Tell her what really happened that night.”
“What night?”
“Chris, I’m warning you, fuck off. Now.”
“Danielle, we know what happ-“
Ritchie turns around and clenches his fist, launching it right at Chris’s nose. Blood squirts out in all directions as he falls backwards onto the grass once more.
“Ritchie, for God’s sake.”
Danielle goes to console Chris, before remembering recent revelations. She watches him fumble himself up, leaning his head back to stop the bleeding.
“Danielle,” he says nasally, trying to look at her through the streaming blood, “it’s about the night your da went missing.”
“What about it?” she orders, before turning to Ritchie, who is staring at his shoes, “Ritchie? What about it?”
Ritchie sighs, looking between them both, disgust etched over his face. Finally, he nods and leans on the brick wall separating their garden. He resumes his attention to Danielle before opening his mouth to speak.
****
I’m well aware how late it is. The chance of getting home to surprise my family before they’ve gone to bed is long gone. But how could I resist? A £9.99 flight? It’s nearly as cheap as the taxi fare I’d paid to get me to the airport. So, deciding to finish my coursework early, I booked on, knowing that the middle of the night flight was the reason for it being so cheap. But, so what? It’ll be nice to see their faces. Surprise them in the morning at breakfast. Ma will be so shocked. And it is Father’s Day after all. We can go for lunch or something. Play happy families.
Renting a car from outside the terminal building, I barrel into the Fiesta and head for home. Singing along to the radio, tapping my fingers off the steering wheel. Luckily, at this time of night, the journey to Derry is smooth. Very little cars meet me on either side of the motorway or road directly after it. Basically, a long stretch of road with a few roundabouts. That’s what links the two biggest cities in the country. Of course, a longer motorway would be more favourable. Or better railway links. Despite my home having to be demolished for the chance of the former. I put that thought out of my head. I’m excited for a whole summer back home. Catch up with old friends. Of course, I’d have to see my sister and her boyfriend, Chris. They’ll no doubt be at the same parties, like they’ve always been. But what kind of friend gets off with your sister? I haven’t spoken to them in almost a year. Still refuse to now, the thought making my blood boil. It’s sick.
When I’m a few miles from the house, I narrow my eyes at the figure staggering along the right-hand side of the road. I would normally just presume it to be a drunk, or a homeless person, but they primarily congregate in the city centre, and even at that they’re few and far between. And this one is too smartly dressed. Slowing down, I roll down my window and come to a halt once I recognise who it is. What the hell could he be doing away out here at this time of night?
“Da?”
The figure stops once he hears my voice and registers the car. I open the car door so the light above my head illuminates my face.
“Ritchie?”
“What are you doing?”
He marches across the road and hops into the passenger seat, eyes in front. The smell of drink instantly hits my nostrils. Great. He isn’t exactly the kindest when he’s sober, but having a drink still doesn’t explain how he could’ve ended up this far from home.
“Da? Are you okay? What happ-“
“Just fucking drive, Ritchie!”
Shaking my head, I pull back onto the road. We continue in silence for a few more moments before I can’t help myself.
“Are you okay?”
“Never better.”
“I don’t believe you somehow.”
“How will I sleep at night?”
I bite my tongue. I can’t continue this fight. Not with drink in him. We’ve never really seen eye to eye, but nothing like this has happened before. Usually it’s stupid arguments, made worse by his drinking and my teenage years. The stress of his job. My hormones taking over. I’ll wait until morning, maybe he’ll be a bit more cooperative then.
“And don’t you dare tell your mother or sisters about this.”
It’s like he’s read my mind.
“Da, what’s going on? Why are you way out here by yourself in the pitch black?”
“It’s none of your fucking business, so watch yourself.”
We sit in silence again, my fingers clenching against the steering wheel.
“What the hell are you doing back, anyway? Been kicked out of university, no doubt.”
“What? No, I actually came back to surprise you all. Good thing I did too, or you still wouldn’t be home by the time I was supposed to arrive. We’d be filing you as a missing person.”
I chuckle, trying to make a joke out of it. Make him open up.
“Why the fuck would you wish that?”
My smile drops as I look over at him.
“I don’t want that, but Jesus Christ, Da, you were way out there in the sticks. Anything could’ve happened.”
“Nothing will happen.”
“You don’t know that. Drunk driver. Murderer. Could’ve fallen down a ditch and hit your head. Why didn’t you call a taxi, or phone for help?”
“Lost my phone.”
“Well, that was smart,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“What was that?”
“How did
