𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒 ➢ JOHNNY ROTTEN

TWENTY FOUR

Marion awoke to a startling sight—two young boys standing at the foot of the bed, staring at her with wide-eyed curiosity. For a moment, she blinked in confusion, trying to place where she was. Then, as if on cue, the boys burst into laughter and scampered out of the room. What the fuck?

As she took in her surroundings, the unfamiliarity of the room made her uneasy. Her memories from the past few days were hazy, fragmented flashes that offered no clarity. She felt a pressing need to leave, to escape whatever mess she might have gotten herself into.

Gingerly, Marion slipped out of the bed. She found her shoes discarded on the floor and put them on, her mind still trying to piece together the events that led her here. Just as she was about to stand, she looked up and saw John standing in front of her, holding a cup of tea.

He looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Marion felt like she'd been caught red-handed, though she couldn't pinpoint the crime. But then, he simply said, "Mum made you a cup of tea," and extended the cup towards her.

Taking the cup with a quiet "Thanks," Marion took a tentative sip. The tea was watery, weak, and overly milky, but it was a welcome respite for her parched throat. After a moment, she ventured to ask, "Those boys...?"

"My brothers," John replied, rolling his eyes. "Sorry about them."

Marion managed a chuckle, though her head throbbed in protest. "It's fine. Just wasn't expecting an audience when I woke up."

John's expression shifted to one of concern. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like I've been run over by a truck," Marion sighed, mentally exhausted.

"You were in a state," John said softly. "Don't remember much, do you?"

Marion felt a flush of embarrassment. "Can't say I do. It's all a bit blurry," she admitted awkwardly.

A silence fell between them. Marion felt a knot of apprehension in her stomach. She wasn't sure if she wanted to uncover the details of the previous night's events.

John hesitated before speaking up. "So, um... do you want to meet my mum? She's curious about who I brought home."

"Your mum?" Marion asked, a flicker of unease passing through her. "I don't want to be an inconvenience."

John shook his head, reassuring her. "No inconvenience. She's already made you tea, hasn't she?"

Marion managed a small, grateful smile. Somehow, the simple act of his mother making her tea made the unfamiliar surroundings a bit less daunting.

Following John, Marion was led to the kitchen where his mother was. She was a short woman with glasses perched on her nose, her hair styled in a typical Irish manner, mousey and unassuming.

With a friendly smile, John introduced them. "Mum, this is Marion. Marion, this is my mum."

Mrs. Lydon greeted her warmly. "Nice to meet you, Marion. Heard a lot about you. I'm making sandwiches, do you want one?"

Marion was caught slightly off-guard by the motherly hospitality. "Oh, uh, sure. Thank you. It's nice to meet you too," she said as she took the spam and tomato sandwich offered to her.

"Johnny said you might be feeling a bit rough this morning. A good sandwich always helps," Mrs. Lydon teased lightly, trying to ease the awkwardness Marion undoubtedly felt.

Marion offered a weak smile in return. "Yeah, I'm not exactly at my best. Sorry about that," she admitted, feeling slightly out of place.

Mrs. Lydon's response was reassuring. "Don't worry, Marion. You're in good hands."