“We’re not calling him Malachy!” I exploded, pushing the door open.
“Aw, c’mon, Evie; why not?” Niall asked, trying to help me down the steps. I batted his hand away, determined to get down them myself. This whole “third trimester” thing, was quickly becoming a bit of a health hazard.
For Niall, not me.
“Because he happens to be the man who threw you out of your home, and the man who got your big brother sent to prison.”
Niall swallowed, putting out his hand for me. I sighed, taking it in my own as we began to walk back down the alley towards where Niall had parked the car. 5…4…3…2…1…
“Can we give him Malachy as a middle name then?”
I whipped around to stare at him, my eyebrows threatening to disappear up into my hairline. We were not having this conversation. At all. Niall held his hands up, scared in case I was about to deck him. Considering the mood I was in, a decking didn’t seem too out of the question.
“No, Niall, he isn’t having Malachy anywhere near his name!” I shouted. Niall rolled his eyes and then stiffened, looking over my shoulder at something. I turned as well, not quite ready to end this particular argument.
“Gimme yoor monae!” a scruffy looking man shouted, waving a knife. Great, fantastic, absolutely toot-fucking-sweet. I turned back to Niall, giving him a small desperate smile.
“We’re still not throwing Malachy in there,” I said meekly.
“Lady, ah’ve got a fuckin’ knife here!” the man roared in my ear. I turned and looked at him, my expression stony.
“And I’ve got swollen ankles!” I snapped. “You don’t see me rubbing them in your face!” Niall stared at me, shaking his head in disbelief. Okay, so it might not have been the best thing to say to a knife wielding mugger, but c’mon! I was looking forward to going home and sleeping; my feet were killing me!
The man blinked, his eyes wide.
“Ah- Ah’ve got a knife,” he repeated, this time quieter. I stared at him.
“And I’ve still got swollen ankles!”
The pair of them just stared at me like I had gone completely mad. The man took another step towards us, and this time Niall stepped in front of me. Hell no! If he thought he was getting out of this argument by getting stabbed, he had another thing coming.
Time to come up with plan B.
“Ow!” I winced, holding my stomach. “Oh Jesus- Niall!” He whipped around, his face slightly panicked. I bend over double, panting. It was flaming lucky we’d just had that anti-natal class, it really was.
“Evie, y’can’t be havin’ the baby; you’re not far enough along,” Niall hissed, his eyes darting about. The man with the knife wrinkled his nose and turned on his heel, evidently not wanting to get involved with the miracles of childbirth. What a wuss; I was the one who had to go through it!
After a couple minutes of laboured pants and trying to squeeze out tears of pain, I straightened up, brushing myself as I looked around casually. Niall paused as he raised his mobile to his ear, realisation dawning on his face.
“Evie McKenzie,” he murmured in a low voice, “did you just pretend t’go into labour?”
I smiled up at him.
“We’re still not calling him Malachy.”
“Evie!” he groaned.
***
YOU ARE READING
Love Thy Neighbour *editing*
Teen Fiction[previously titled Sleeping with the Enemy] All that mattered to Evie McKenzie was getting through her final year at school; exams she could deal with, friends fighting she could tackle...hell, even the odd argument with her brother about why he sho...
