Falling Free

BONUS CHAPTER

"Where the fuck is she?"

"Good morning to you too, Alfie," Tommy smirked to himself when he heard Alfie on the other end of the phone. He took off his glasses and rubbed his temples to ease the headache already forming from all of the paperwork he had done that morning, while he waited for Alfie to blurt out whatever was going to come out of his mouth about Niamh.

"No it aint a good morning actually, Thomas," Alfie spat. "'Cause I've woke up to find my seven month pregant wife's disappeared like a fucking thief in the night. Took me fucking car with her and I've got no clue where she's gone off to. None of her friends have seen her and she aint down at the cafe where she's been scarfing down jellied eels every day until she nearly looks like one all 'cause the baby apparently wants them, which leads me to believe she's either with you or in that smog and heathen ridden place she used to call home. So do you fancy doing me a favour, mate, and telling me which one it is so I can find her and see what the hell she's playing at?"

"She's not here," Tommy sighed. "And if she was in Small Heath someone would have told me. Polly or Ada would have called if she was with them too."

"Oh well, that's fucking great then aint it?" Alfie exclaimed. "My wife's god knows fucking where and you don't seem all that concerned about it."

"I'm not," Tommy answered. "Because I'm fairly certain I know where she'll be if no one can find her."

"Care to share that knowledge then 'cause I'm pulling me fucking hair out here, Tom," Alfie's voice sounded hoarse. "'Cause she was fine last night, laughing and joking with me about calling the baby after you or Arthur, and then the next she's gone and she could be lying dead in a ditch for all I bloody well know."

"Not a ditch but a forest," Tommy murmured. "And not dead. Definitely not dead."

... ... ...

Niamh's eyes were closed as she listened to the sound of the river rushing past just behind the thicket of trees that had her nestled in their safety, a blanket of leaves beneath her and the smell of the smoke from the fire she had lit, one of both fond memories and painful reminders.

She ignored the footsteps coming closer; knew that they would be one of either three people– Alfie, Tommy or Johnny Dogs. Judging by the slight drag of the right foot, she knew it was Alfie; no doubt grumbling to himself about his damned sciatica.

"If I weren't so happy to see you I'd fucking murder you," the light behind her closed eyes darkened slightly and she knew he was standing over her. "Having me worrying about you and then dragging me out here with your brother and having all them women in the camp over yonder casting their fucking curses and spells and what not over me."

"They were doing no such thing," she couldn't help but grin, even as her eyes stayed shut. "But I am sorry for making you worry."

"Hm," Alfie grumbled. "You better had be."

Niamh opened her eyes then and smiled softly, sitting up as Alfie crouched down. She motioned for him to sit, rolling her eyes as he frowned at the muddy ground until she reached for the blanket beside her and laid it out for him.

"Not muddying up me good trousers," he muttered as he sat down and immediately Niamh leaned into his side, pressing her lips to his bearded cheek as he wrapped an arm around her. "You've got leaves in your hair."

"It's my crown," she answered, lifting her hand to gently remove the garland made of twigs and autumnal red leaves and red ribbon. "Used to make these all the time when I was little and pretend I was a fairy. Back when I had the luxury of living in my own imagination and back when I didn't worry at all about the future."