𝐀𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭

Chapter 9: There May Be Something There That Wasn't There Before

31 October, 1956

As the red car pulled into the driveway, Lynn was easily visible in the driver's seat. Daddy wore a puzzled expression, probably because he'd just arrived home to find his daughter meeting a bunch of strangers – who were all boys – in the middle of the driveway.

As Lynn and Daddy shut the doors behind them, Fiona could feel her heart rate accelerating. She was in no way prepared for this...

"Who's this, Fi?" Lynn began quizzically. Fiona swore she almost looked disappointed, as if she'd been left out of a big secret.

"And more importantly, what's that in your hand?" Daddy folded his arms.

Crap. The ciggie John had given her was still held loosely in her fingers. Daddy still wasn't aware that she'd developed the hobby, but she'd never planned to have him find out this way...

"That's mine, sir," John assured him, snatching the cigarette out of Fiona's grasp. Though his rough fingers scratched her skin a bit, she was silently thanking the heavens for a miracle. Daddy cocked his head to look at John, whom he'd never even seen before, narrowing his eyes as John took the cigarette.

"It's – er – a candy cigarette. They're me favorite, and she was just givin' me her last one," John offered. What a fucking dumb excuse. "See?"

And right then and there, he took a bite out of the end of the cigarette. Fiona was speechless. Pete and Colin were biting their lips like little children, giving it all their effort not to succumb to laughter.

"John!"

Lynn and Daddy stared at her again. Stuttering, she remembered the ruse they had invented, that the thing was supposed to be candy. "Er – you – you've already had four lollipops! You shouldn't have more candy!"

"'Ye can't tell me how to live me own life!' Wasn't tha' what ye were jus' tellin' me before?"

Lynn and Daddy's glances kept shifting between the two of them as if watching a football game. Lynn's eyebrow cocked up. She wasn't buying any of this, clearly, and Daddy's eyes were still set on John.

Having just bit off the end of a cigarette (not the side with tobacco in it), John eventually spat it out, and ground the old butt into the ground with his shoe, tutting to himself at the idea of a wasted ciggie. None of this behavior was helping the current situation.

"I think it's time you went home now," Daddy suggested, with an air of calmness and still insistence. Pete and Colin were edging away before John began to leave himself, surprisingly submissive. Before he turned away, he bowed low to Fiona and tipped an imaginary hat. Rolling her eyes, she marched inside. She'd had quite enough of his antics for one day...

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Fiona woke one November morning to Lynn's exasperated swearing as she moved down the hall toward the stairs. Lynn was usually cheerful, so when she was upset it meant something was really up. Fiona had gathered that quickly in the brief time she'd been in Liverpool.

She didn't have to think hard to guess what was troubling Lynn this morning: the dog had come back in the recent nights and was being no kinder to Lynn's flower patches, even after the flowers had died.

"What could you possibly want? The damn flowers are dead!" Lynn had opened the window and was trying to reach the dog with her hand to shoo him away when Fiona reached the landing.

The dog suddenly turned and moved.

"Where are you- no! No!" Lynn swore loudly as she flung open the front door, revealing the dog's quick getaway, clutching something small and blue in his mouth. Unfortunately, it was more than just the neighbor's ball.