“What’re they wantin’?” I asked, panting to regain my breath. I strolled to Declan’s side.
“Wee Rosie Cawley is after Cian. She’d be wantin’ him t’ take a run at grabbin’ her,” Declan replied, swiping the sweat from his forehead. “The other wee geebags are just her mates. Y’know how girls are. They travel in packs, aye.”
As the girls approached, Declan and I watched Cian jogging over to meet up with them. My friend’s observation was bob on – Rosie was making eyes at Cian, flirting and showing off for him.
Cian was a couple of years older than me, though I wasn’t entirely sure by how much. He had to be pushing sixteen or so, which meant Rosie Cawley was probably after a courtship and a ring. We did things differently than the settled folks. Getting hitched early and springing out a litter of wains was just part of life for most travellers.
One of the lads kicked Declan’s football back to us. With our game clearly on pause I scowled, watching the others closing in around our spectators. That game had just been getting good – I’d finally hit my stride and had been about to score. Football was one of the few things I was pretty decent at around here, better than Declan and even some of the older boys. I was pissed to have my game interruptedby a few geebags. What was the big deal anyway? We saw these girls around the camp all the time.
When Declan tucked his ball under his arm, wandering over to the others, I reluctantly followed. One of Rosie’s mates, a pretty wee thing, lit up when she saw us approaching, but it wasn’tmeshe was excited about.
She smiled, smoothing a stand of her long, dark hair through her fingers. “How’s the form, Dec?”
“Ah, can’t complain, now,” Declan replied, running a hand through his hair. Just like Cian, he puffed up a little. In fact, all of the lads seemed just as eager to chat with the girls, showing off by ripping on one another and play fighting. I felt awkward, strangely jaded. Clearly, I was missing something.
“‘Bout ya, Johnny,” she said, politely acknowledging me before her attention flitted back to Declan. I simply jerked my chin in greeting, shifting foot to foot and feeling out of place.
Unfortunately, the girls loitered around longer than I had expected and when the sky began to turn dusky, I accepted that the rest of that football game was never going to happen. Even Declan seemed happy, entertaining Rosie’s wee friend.
When the last of the sunlight disappeared, the night grew chilly. Wearing just a thin vest, I was a little uncomfortable and sidled up to Declan.
“Y’wanna be headin’?” I asked, nudging him with my elbow.
When Declan hesitated, his gaze drifting back to the geebag he was chatting with, I shrugged.
“I’ve a chill. Y’stay. Not like I don’t know the way back, now.”
“Ah, y’sure? I don’t—”
“No bother.” I got to my feet, brushing dirt and grass from my arse and holding out my fist. “Come a’ knock me in the morning, aye?”
Declan bashed his knuckles against my own. “Aye.”
A few of the other lads muttered their farewells, but not Cian. I halted with morbid curiosity for a moment, watching him and Rosie Cawley kissing messily. I wrinkled my nose – yep, I wasdefinitelymissing something. I didn’t dare think on that too hard.
It was a good job I knew my way back to the camp with my eyes closed because by the time I was pushing through the undergrowth, it was pitch black.
As I grew closer to home, the lights of the camp shone through the darkness ahead. With each step, my anxiety began to spike. Would Da be home tonight or would he be out at the pub with his mates? I knew which option I’d prefer.
I paused at the steps leading up to our family caravan. The lights were on inside, glowing invitingly but that was about all I would find inviting inside, that I could be sure of. I sucked in a deep breath and hopped up, opening the door and slipping inside.
“The feck d’ya think ya’ve been all day?”
I cringed, keeping my head down. Great, Da was home.
“Sorry, Da,” I mumbled. “I’d a wee game o’ footie wi’ the lads.”
“Ya ma put tea up f’ya,” he slurred angrily. “It’s gone t’ feckin’ waste now. Stone cold.”
Looked like the pub had come to us tonight. That was never a good sign. This time I kept quiet. I’d long since learnt there was no point in trying to reason with my da, and after he’d had a skin full? I daren’t even meet his eye.
He got up from the seating area, swigging from a beer bottle. When he swayed on his feet, falling into one of the kitchenette cupboards, my ma leapt forward.
“Now, love, don’t ate the poor wee lad’s head off. He’d just be—” She was cut off by my pa shoving her roughly back down. Just as always, she cowered away from him and watched on helplessly as he strode towards me.
I fought against my instincts not to shrink back when Da got up in my face. I knew from experience that it just made him angrier.
“Ya selfish wee prick!”
