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“Happy birthday Dickhead!”
James was startled awake by Michelle’s yell as she burst into his room and began thumping him, counting aloud as she did. All James could do was throw up his arms to protect his head as Michelle rained down blow after blow.
“Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen! And one for luck!” Michelle announced as she gave the final thump. “Come on! Get up!”
“Why are you up so early?” James groaned as he looked at his alarm clock. It was half seven on a Sunday morning. Unless it was something seriously important Michelle was never up that early on a weekend.
“Because I had to give you your birthday bumps.” Michelle replied easily. “And because now you’re eighteen, you can legally buy us all drinks!”
“The shops don’t open until one.” James said as he tugged the duvet over his head. Eighteenth birthday or not, all he wanted was to sleep.
“Dennis’s opens at eight.” Michelle replied. “Also Ma’s making breakfast because she’s got a shift at the hospital at nine so move it.”
“Fine,” James groaned as he pushed back the duvet. Aunt Deirdre only cooked them breakfast when it was a birthday or a special occasion. Otherwise the Mallon household was a toast and cereal house. It had taken him time to get used to an Ulster fry but he actually enjoyed it. Even if it was greasy.
“Morning James, happy birthday.” Deirdre said, giving James a rare, sincere smile and a hug as he entered the kitchen.
“Thanks Aunt Deirdre,” James smiled as he sat at the table next to Uncle Martin who looked up from his newspaper.
“Happy birthday son,” Martin said as he handed James a card. “This is from me and Deirdre.”
James opened the card and his mouth fell open at sight of the fifty pound note inside the card. Money was tight at the moment and he knew it was probably more than his aunt and uncle could afford. Even if he had wanted a party; he knew they wouldn’t have been able to afford it. Instead, he was happy enough to spend the day with his friends. “Thanks but I can’t take this. It’s too much.”
“I’ll have it then,” Michelle said and made a swipe for the note. James shut the card and held it out of her reach as Deirdre flicked a tea towel at her.
“You’ll take it, it’s not every day you turn eighteen. As for you Michelle, you’ll get yours on your birthday.” Deirdre warned as Michelle rolled her eyes. Her birthday wasn’t until June, that was ages away.
As the Mallon family ate their breakfast; James couldn’t help but glance at the hallway where the new phone stood on the phone table. Martin and Deirdre had reluctantly replaced the phone after Kathy returned to London but James knew that he probably wouldn’t get any phone calls for a while. None of the Mallons commented on the looks, instead silently sharing a knowing look. They knew what James was expecting and none of them believed it would happen.
“Come on Dickhead, let’s go!” Michelle demanded from the front door. Michelle barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes as James yet again, looked longingly at the phone. They were meant to leave half an hour ago but James had refused to move. “Erin and Orla’ll be home from mass by now and Clare’s Ma is driving down. Hurry up!”
“I’m coming,” James said as he followed Michelle out of the door. Every other year, a gift had arrived in the post in the week before his birthday and he had a phone call first thing. She must be busy, he told himself. She would call soon. If he missed her, he’d call her back. It would be fine. Totally fine.
“Happy birthday James!” Clare shrieked happily as she leapt out of Geraldine’s car and rushed into James’ arms. James grinned and hugged her back; although Clare tried to get back up to Derry as often as she could, it wasn’t the same as having her here. Geraldine smiled balefully at James who gave her a hug.
“How are you Mrs Devlin?” James asked sincerely, Geraldine smiled softly as she looked at the polite young man and handed him the gift bag that Clare had left in the car. Even though he was English, Sean had always been fond of the Wee English Fella and he had always been good to her Clare.
“I’m good, thanks James, dear.” Geraldine replied as Michelle led the way up the steps to the Quinn household. As always, the door was open and they let themselves in, following the sounds to the kitchen.
“Happy birthday James!” Orla announced as he stepped into the kitchen, in her hand was a helium balloon that thankfully had the phrase ‘ Birthday Boy’ on it.
“Thanks Orla,” James replied as Orla swept him into a hug, quickly followed by a beaming Erin who also squeezed his hand. Gerry clapped him on the shoulder as Sarah kissed his cheek.
“Eighteen, all grown up. Seems like just yesterday you were seventeen.” Sarah commented dreamily as she sipped her tea. James knew better than to respond as Joe came into the room, Anna holding his hand. In Joe’s other hand was a bottle bag and in Anna’s was a piece of paper.
“Happy birthday Son, you’re a man now.” Joe said sincerely as James peered into the bag and saw a large bottle of Bushmills. Michelle let out a whistle of appreciation, despite her best attempts, they could never get their hands on whisky.. “The child made this for you.”
Anna climbed onto James’ lap and thrust the piece of paper into his face. The three year old had scribbled all over it, using a variety of colours and stickers. Joe’s neat handwriting in the corner had a birthday message and had signed Anna’s name.
“Thanks Anna, I love it.” James smiled as he set it onto the table.
“Happy birthday,” Anna said as she slid off his lap and returned to Joe. As she had since she was a baby, she remained attached to Joe’s side and she sat up on his knee as he took his own cup of tea.
“This is just something small from me and Mary,” Gerry said, pointedly ignoring the muttered comment from Joe as he handed James a gift bag.
“Thanks Mr and Mrs Quinn.” James said politely as he pulled out the first of two wrapped gifts. The first contained the traditional 18th key and the second was a framed photo of last Halloween. All of them dressed as angels and beaming at the camera from the back of Sean’s Mini. Sean himself was also grinning at the camera.
“It’s lovely,” Clare said sincerely as she looked at Geraldine. “Look how happy Daddy is.”
Geraldine smiled and hugged Mary before James got up and hugged both Gerry and Mary. Mary put a hand on his cheek and smiled at the young man she loved as if he were her own. Kathy Maguire had no idea of what sort of gift she had thrown away. Any true mother would be proud to call James their son. “You’re all grown up, what happened to that wee fella who was scared of his own shadow when he came here?”
“He got used to Derry,” James replied as Erin passed him her present; a scrapbook of their memories in Derry. A news clipping from the Toto incident, a series of polaroid photos taken in a photo booth after school of all five of them squeezed in together pulling faces, a miniature American flag, a photo of the five of them in their Spice Girls costumes; the train tickets from their trip to Portrush. “Thanks Erin, I love it.”
“Boke,” Michelle muttered. “Your present from me is at the house. You’ll get it later.”
“My turn!” Orla announced as she handed James the balloon and set her present on the table. “This is from me and Mammy. The balloon’s part of it.”
The other part was a series of hair and beauty products. Michelle and Clare couldn’t help but laugh at the face masks but the hair products, leave in conditioner, gel, as well as the cleansers and exfoliators were; according to Sarah; perfect for keeping his hair even more perfect and his skin clear as ever.
The last gift to open was Clare’s; an 18th birthday beer tankard and an Irish slang to English dictionary. James laughed at the gift and showed the others.
“I needed this,” James exclaimed as he opened it on a random page. “‘ Culchie: an unsophisticated country person or farmer.’ I thought it was just a slang term for someone from the Republic of Ireland.”
“That’s a Southener.” Erin corrected as James gave Clare and Orla a hug. “Have you hea-”
Erin trailed off as Michelle sent her a glare and shook her head. Erin bit her lip as the elephant in the room reared its head at her half finished question. James visibly tensed for a moment, the smile flickered off his face before he composed himself.
“Not yet, she’ll probably call later.” James replied, the worrying feeling that had taken residence in his stomach over the past few days twisted inside of him but he tried to ignore it. She would call. She would. She may have missed other things such as him passing his driving test or taking his GCSEs but she wouldn't miss this. She couldn't.
“So what are you lot up to today then?” Mary asked in an obvious attempt to change the subject.
“We’re going to the cinema to see that ‘I Know What You Did Last Summer’; it’s meant to be really scary.” Erin explained. Normally she didn't go for scary movies but James wanted to see it and if it meant she could cuddle up close to him in the darkened cinema at the really scary bits, well, she would manage.
“Plus it has Freddy Prinze Jr in it and he’s a full on ride.” Michelle added cheerfully as James gathered up the gift bags and with a final round of birthday wishes and farewells, they left the Quinn household to make their way into the town.
The streetlights had come on my the time Michelle and James reached their street. The evenings were drawing in now that it was Autumn. It had been an almost perfect 18th birthday in James’ eyes. He hadn’t wanted a huge birthday bash or a mountain of tacky gifts; he had just wanted to spend time with his friends, watch a movie and have some cake. The latter of which they got when they left the cinema; jumping at every noise and debating which death scene was the best in the movie. Bites of chocolate fudge cake with swigs of 7up and laughter was the perfect end to an almost perfect day.
Almost perfect.
Neither Michelle nor James spoke as Michelle let them into the house. Martin had gone to pick up Deirdre from work and the house was in darkness. While Michelle switched on the lights, James picked up the phone and dialled 1471. The phone rang for a few moments before the automated, robotic female voice answered.
“You were called yesterday-”
James threw down the handset of the phone onto the receiver and ran his hands through his hair. Stupid. He had been so stupid to think she would call. As if she would actually call. It wasn’t like it anything special today. Just his eighteenth birthday. He hadn’t heard anything from her since New Year’s Eve, almost ten months ago. He should have known better than to expect anything from her. No card. No gift. Now not even a phone call.
“It’s OK. It’s fine.” James muttered quietly as he sat on the seat of the phone table. He could feel his chin wavering, his lip trembling as hot, angry tears burned behind his eyes. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t weak. He could handle this. Clearly, now that he was eighteen, a legal adult, she had finally, completely washed her hands of him.
Good.
Who needed her?
Not him. He was fine.
It wasn’t like he was fifteen, wondering when she would come back; wondering what he had done to cause her to abandon him in an unfamiliar, unsafe place. He wasn’t that kid anymore. He was eighteen, a grown man. He had his aunt and uncle, Michelle, the Quinns, the Devlins, Grandpa Joe, Orla and Sarah. Hell, even Sister Michael showed him more care than she ever had. He didn’t need her. He didn’t care. Fuck her.
“James,” Michelle said quietly as she stood at the bottom of the stairs. For once, the mocking smirks and annoyed scowls were gone. Instead, she looked at him with genuine concern and care. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” James said furiously; his sorrow giving way to rage. “It’s the best thing she’s ever done for me! She’s finally cut contact. I don’t need to run around defending her anymore. She can fuck off out of my life! She clearly doesn’t love me and I don’t love her.”
“She’s-” Michelle began and James cut her off. There was a rage in him that she had never seen before. She knew this had been coming; had been building and stewing inside of him ever since Deirdre informed him in Sister Michael’s office that she was gone.
“She’s not my mum. Not anymore.” James stated coldly. “She might be your aunt but she’s not my mum.”
Michelle looked at James and he held out his arms. “What? No smart arse comment? No ‘I told you so’?”
“No,” Michelle replied quietly. “I’ll talk to my Ma and Da for you.”
James swallowed, his rage flickering slightly at the genuine offer and the quiet softness of Michelle’s voice. He cleared his throat awkwardly and wiped the stray tears that dared slip down his cheeks. “Thanks,”
With that, James turned and hurried up to his room. The door slammed slightly louder than he expected it to but he knew Michelle would leave him alone. James slumped against the door and slid down until he was sitting on the carpeted floor, hugging his knees. It was only then that he led the tears fall.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there for. He could hear the front door opening and closing. He heard three distinct murmuring voices before a furious yell that was usually reserved for when Michelle landed home drunk. More furious yelling from his aunt followed; the frequent pauses and even louder yells informing James that Deirdre had called her sister and was currently unloaded eighteen years of pent up rage down the phone. Finally the yelling stopped and James heard a tentative knock on his bedroom door.
“James?” Michelle called. “I’ll leave it here then.”
James waited until he heard Michelle’s bedroom door close before he opened his own. Lying on the floor was a wrapped gift and an envelope. James unwrapped the gift and raised his eyebrows at the new walkman; the exact one he had been eyeing up for weeks and planned to spend his birthday money on. James smiled softly before he looked at the card. Michelle had half placed the card into the envelope, so that the back half flapped out, allowing him to read the message before he saw the front cover.
James
I figured it might happen. Fuck her. You don’t need her. We’re your family; all of us. We all love you. Even me.
Happy 18th Birthday
Michelle
James pulled the card out of the envelope and turned it around. On the front, along with the usual decorations that an 18th birthday card would have, there was one word, one word that he never thought anyone, especially not Michelle, would ever use to describe him.
Brother.