[ 005 ] thieving wee fuckers!


NOTHING COMPARES
CHAPTER FIVE !






"WHAT WERE YOU AND David talking about?" Erin speedily asked once they had parted ways with their friends and began heading back home. She was practically tripping over herself to catch up with Sinéad, who was herself almost running down the road to avoid having to acknowledge Erin. "Did he mention me? He did, didn't he?"

Sinéad chuckled humourlessly. She came to a stop, her feet planted firmly on the ground as she looked over at her cousin. "Funnily enough, Erin, you weren't a topic of conversation." She sarcastically quipped to the blonde before beginning to walk once again.

Erin's eyes narrowed into a small glare of annoyance. She released a huff. As her grip on her portion of the food she was carrying tightened, she quickly followed behind Sinéad. "Well what were youse talking about then?"

She contemplated lying but they hadn't spoken of anything that she couldn't actually tell Erin. She glanced the blonde's way briefly before looking ahead again. She reluctantly sighed before answering the question. "Nothing really. We just spoke about us nothing being able to afford Paris, him going to practise."

Okay, so she omitted one little detail but David asking her on another day was certainly none of Erin's business and it would only cause a row, something Sinéad was in no mood for.

"And he didn't mention me at all?"

            "No, Erin. He didn't." Sinéad tiredly replied before glancing back at her sister who had fallen behind, the girl busy staring at the little figurines in the people's front gardens. "You alright back there, Orla?"

           "Grand." Came the smiley response from her sister.

            And before they all knew it, they had arrived back home, food from the chippy in hand and ready to tuck in. Except they had all forgotten about what was awaiting them beyond the front door.

"There was a knock at the door." Uncle Colm droned on exhaustively slow. "This must have been...ah, we're talking eight, half-eight, for I was halfway through me dinner. And up I got to open it. And there they both were, large as life."

Everyone around the table looked bored out of their minds. Their eyes drooped, their muscles relaxing. Uncle Colm was enough to put you to sleep. "And the taller fella, though, to be fair, there was no more than an inch in it."

            "Jesus wept." Aunt Mary muttered under her breath.

            Unaware of his family's total disinterest in his long winded story, Colm continued on. "The slightly taller fella, he says to me, says he, "do you know who we are?".

            Joe glanced around the table. "How's a body supposed to enjoy his dinner?" He lowly and rhetorically asked.

            "And I says to him, says I, "Well, I can't be sure now, but maybe if you took off the balaclavas." Colm told the family. He spoke of the horrors he had faced at the hands of the IRA and yet...no one seemed to care cause of how slowly he spoke. "And then he says to me, the slightly taller fella does, he says, "Step aside, we're armed."

            Orla, the only one completely captivated by his story, let out an enthralled, "Class."

            "And that's when the smaller fella, although, as I say, we're talking an inch..."

            As she sat there, unable to enjoy her gravy chip and contemplating stabbing herself in the hand with her fork just to stop her Uncle Colm from his dull rehashing of what should have been quite an interesting experience, Sinéad actually found herself wishing she was still engaged in that God awful conversation with Erin about David.

            Well, only a little.

            That's when her mammy had the bright idea to engage Colm in conversation. "Did you go for the Economy 7 in the end, Colm?" Sarah curiously asked the man.

            "Mammy." Sinéad quietly warned, the girl practically pleading with her to not engage as she stared at her from across the table.

            Sarah paid her daughter no mind and instead struggled to get out her thoughts as Erin began to poke her in the side. "I thought you said the hot water settings were a minefield."

            "For the love of God, Sarah, no diversions, please." Gerry begged the woman.

           Mary was at her wits end at this point. She began to usher her uncle to the end of his retelling. "Aye, come on, let's pick it up. They tied you to the heater." She quickly uttered, motioning for Colm to finish his story as quick as possible.

            Colm nodded. "They did indeed. And there I am, shackled to the thermostatic valve with my new shoelaces, when one of them, the smaller fella...or hang on, maybe it was the—"

            "Doesn't matter, Colm."

            Colm chose to forgo remembering which it was. "Well, it was one of the two. He's looking for the keys to the van. All ranting and raving and himself all worked up, threatening to set fire to my good chaise longue and all sorts." The McCool man explained with a frown. "By Jesus, they were absolutely desperate to borrow thon van."

            Mary's brows knitted together. Why was he using the word 'borrow'? "Colm, they didn't 'borrow' your van. They stole your van, used it to move arms across the border, and then they blew it up." She informed him. They weren't exactly gonna return the van after they were done with it.

            "Aye. Nightmare altogether." Colm agreed with his niece.

            Erin chose then to make a snarky comment. "Or diabolique, as they say in France."

            But her mammy was ready for her. "Or, "You're still not going to Paris," as they say in Derry." Mary replied with just as much snark and more than enough authority to shut the blonde up.

            "Ach, well, I'm delighted for you, Colm." Sarah commented with a smile.

            Many shot Sarah strange looks. Looks of confusion. But only Gerry asked the question. "What?"

            "Well, I just mean that, well before he had nothing really going for him, but now, well, now he is somebody, now he's the fella that goes to his own radiator." She complimented the man, unaware of how rude and unaware she sounded to the rest of them.

            "Thanks, Sarah." Colm emotionlessly thanked her.

            Sarah suddenly looked her sister's way, a look of intrigue taking over the features of her face. "We should ring UTV. Get them to do an interview."

            Just then, the doorbell rang. "I'll go." Erin rushed to say as she sprang up from her chair, beating her cousin to the chase. She desperately ran from the kitchen and towards the front door, leaving behind a defeated looking Sinéad who fell back into her chair.

           Thankfully for the young McCool girl, Erin arrived back in the house after only a minute or so, beckoning her two cousins outside and giving the excuse that Michelle was at the door and needed them. Before she knew it, Sinéad was gathered with her friends and the stolen noticeboard from the chippy.

            "Fionnula was out the back, cashing up. I sneaked in, yanked it off the wall and away I went." Michelle proudly told the girls. She didn't even care that she had technically committed theft. "I was like a thief in the night."

           Clare immediately began stutter and scoff. "You weren't 'like' a thief in the night, you actually were a thief in the night. And you stole from Fionnula of all people. Fionnula! I once saw her punch a Rottweiler, Michelle. If she finds out about this, she'll kill you."

             The Mallon girl didn't hesitate to correct her. "Kill us. You're an accessory after the fact now, my friend." She smugly replied to the blonde.

             "God!" Clare lowly muttered. She was freaking out.

            As Clare continued to mutter nervously to herself, Erin decided to ask a question about something Michelle had yet to explain. "Can I ask why you stole the noticeboard?" She tiredly asked her friend, the girl bored of Michelle's antics.

            "So we get first dibs on all the jobs." Michelle uttered as though it was obvious.

             James however had something actually obvious to say. He stared perplexed at his cousin while saying, "Wouldn't it have been easier to just remove the notices? They were only blu-tacked on."

             Michelle just glared at him. "Fuck off, dickweed." She snapped.

            Sinéad sighed. "Christ, what possessed you, Michelle?"

            Michelle went quiet. Reality was quickly hitting her and she was beginning to feel like an idiot. "Yeah. The more I talk about it and the more I sober up... the less sure I am, really."

"You were drunk?"

            "Brilliant." Erin groaned.

            Michelle frowned. "Look. We're not like Jenny Joyce. Nobody is just gonna hand us things. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't have things." She stated sombrely. She was right and she knew it. They deserved to have the things Jenny had. She turned to look at Clare. "Come on, Clare. I know how much you've dreamed of the seeing the Arc de...whatever the fuck it's called."

Then she turned, a grin on her lips. "James. I know how much you want to practise the shit out of the past participle." She said as she walked towards him, her hand hitting against his shoulder as she uttered 'the participle'.

"Orla..." she started as she moved towards the girl. While wrapping her arm around Orla's shoulders, she pleaded her case. "You really, really buzz off those Renault Clio ads."

She then set her sights on the other McCool girl, who was sat cross-legged on the footpath. "Sinéad, you've been dying to see the fashion up close." Michelle uttered with a wave of her hand in Sinéad's direction.

"And you, Erin." The Mallon girl finally moved to the last of the group. Her smile fell into a tight-lipped one as she shrugged her shoulders. "Well, you're just riding Charlene Kavanagh."

"I'm not riding her."

"Yeah, you are." Sinéad quipped from the ground.

While glaring at her cousin, Erin let out a sigh. She slowly stuttered out, "I just think it might be time I moved on, friendship-wise."

Clare huffed and puffed. She got up in Erin's face, her own face red with annoyance. "You are aware you're talking to your current friends?" Her voice was high in pitch as she complained to the girl.

As Clare grew pissed off with Erin, Michelle took the opportunity to climb the steps of the nearby bridge, standing tall over the group. "We can't give up Paris. Let's do this, girls. Let's just make it happen." She was revved up, ready to take control of their lives and get the money for Paris.

Even Erin couldn't be annoyed by how excited Michelle had become. Instead she actually grinned proudly. "God, I've never seen you so fired up."

"I will buck a French lad, Erin." Michelle confidently exclaimed. She was determined to get to France and climb up a boy, no matter what. "I will buck a French lad, so help me God."

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"SO, FIRSTLY WE HAVE the tutoring." Erin began to explain to the group, all of whom had taken a seat upon Erin's bed the next day. She held her notebook in hand, the list of available jobs jotted down. "And out of everyone, I thought you might be best suited to that, Clare, because—"

Clare nodded her head. "I'm the brightest." She quite big-headedly described herself.

Sinéad scoffed obnoxiously. She stared over at the blonde, an unamused expression plastered upon her face. "Someone has their head shoved up their own arse today, don't they?" She sarcastically quipped at her friend, earning herself a roll of the eyes.

She was just as smart of Clare and she didn't even need to try as hard.

Even Erin held some offence at Clare's statement. "Well, in the conventional sort of way, I suppose." She stammered out to avoid starting a fight. Her grip on her pen tightened as she calmed herself down with a breath and a glance back down at her book. "There's also some babysitting. The child will be in bed, so you should just about be able to manage that, Michelle."

Michelle just glared at her. "Oh, thanks. And you should just about be able to manage this." Her middle finger was held up and aimed right at the Quinn girl.

            "Always the lady." Erin deadpanned. She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she returned to the notebook in her hand. "There's also some gardening, mowing a lawn, et cetera. This will require a bit of muscle, so..."

            Her gaze darted up and scanned the room, completely passing by an expectantly looking James before setting her sights on her cousin. "You should take that one, Orla." She stated with a smile, earning a nod from Orla.

            This wasn't right, not to James. And he planned to point out the injustice. "No, I should do that one. It's a man's job, Erin. I'm a man." He expressed his shock at not immediately being chosen for what he considered a man's job.

            "That's debatable." Michelle declared.

            "Well, I'm more of a man than Orla."

Orla's brows knitted together. "I do not accept that." She drawled out.

James just ignored her. Instead he kept all of his attention locked upon Erin. His green eyes were filled with despair as he implored with the girl. "Come on, Erin."

"Fine. So that's leaves dog-walking and washing a car."

Orla only has one stipulation when it came to washing cars. "Is it a Renault Clio?"

"No."

No Renault Clio, no Orla McCool. "I'll take the dogs."

"I'm grand with washing a car. I wash uncle Gerry's all the time anyway." Sinéad explained with a shrug as she got left with the last option possible. She then leaned towards Michelle with a toothy grin. "He gives me money for it."

With everyone assigned a job that they were capable of doing, Erin closed her notebook with a smug expression. "Okay. Let's go to work."

They were hot shit. They were so confident as they strutted out of Erin's house. Cocky grins adorned their lips, a swagger has graced their step as they walked down the road. Nothing and no one could destroy the feeling they had, the buzz that flowed through their veins from excitement.

Suddenly a car drove past them. "You thieving wee fuckers!" Screamed Fionnula out the drivers side window as she sped past them, the woman filled with rage.

It was safe to say they were well and truly fucked! They all sat on the sofa back in Erin's house, heads rightfully hung low to avoid the pissed off, disappointed stare of Mary Quinn, who glared down at them all. She was fuming!

Michelle was the one with the balls to actually speak up. She glanced curiously at Fionnula as she asked, "How did you find out?"

Clare jumped in, almost a little too quickly and a pretty obvious attempt to divert their attention. Her pupils shook wildly in her eyes as she scrambled to speak. "It doesn't matter how she found out. That's not what's important, what's important is that we are all deeply—"

"Her mother rang me." Fionnula cut her off, pointing directly at the Devlin girl.

Clare's face scrunched up. She'd been found out. Erin balked at her fellow blonde. "You told your Ma?"

Sinéad scoffed in irritation. She looked beyond Michelle who she sat beside and over at the blonde with an annoyed expression. She huffed at the girl. "You're such a mouth, Clare."

Clare looked ready to burst. "Okay, I cracked. I couldn't handle it, and I cracked." She cried out. It was a weak attempt to justify what she had done.

"For fuck's sake, Clare." Michelle complained.

Mary was quick to put a stop to the complaining. "Enough!" She snapped at the group of teenagers. She sent them a look of warning before glancing over at Fionnula. "Where do we go from here?"

Fionnula released a contemplative sigh. "Mary, look, you're family." That's wasn't true. She didn't like them like that. Then she rethought it. "Well, you're good people." And then again. "Well, you're decent people."

She looked over at the group of teenagers then back at Mary. "But I have to set an example."

Fear marred the features of Mary Quinn's face. This couldn't be. She couldn't mean... "No. Dear God, no. You're not talking about a ban."

This was the best thing James had heard all day. "Yes." He joyfully whispered to himself, pumping his fist in celebration.

Sinéad didn't appreciate this. Without hesitation, she elbowed the boy in the ribs, causing his face to scrunch up in pain as she snipped at him. "You've never even tried it so shut up."

At that very moment, Sarah McCool entered the living room. "Ach, Fionnula. What about you? I thought I could smell vinegar." She grinned cheerfully at the woman, not clocking the insult she had just hurled her way. "I'm just on my way to meet our Colm here. I'm a nervous wreck. We're doing this interview, you see, for UTV. I'm gonna be on UTV, Fionnula."

"Save your breath, Sarah." Mary cut her off. She knew there was no point trying to lay the groundwork for the free chips from Fionnula. Not after their idiot children and their friends has fucked everything up. "There'll be no free chips. There'll be no chips, full stop."

"What?" Sarah asked confused.

Mary turned back to look at Fionnula. "What do you expect me to do on a Friday, Fionnula? Cook? You expect me to cook?" At this point, Mary would have gotten on her knees if it meant the ban wouldn't talk place.

Fionnula shrugged. "You could order a pizza."

"Pizza's not as nice." Orla commented sadly.

"No. You're right, Orla. Pizza's not as nice. Maybe you should have all thought about that." She snapped at the teenagers, eying each of them up in utter disgust and disappointment. They'd done this. "Is there nothing we can do?"

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jamielee's thoughts.
chapter five. not proofread.
michelle stealing the noticeboard is so funny to me and then fionnula yelling out of the van at them is hilarious. Anyway hope you enjoyed :)

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