Chapter 1: Setting the Scene

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Hey :)

I've always been interested in the backstory of Jim Moriarty and Carl Powers. What went wrong between the two to cause Carl's death? As I've already said, you know how this story ends. Here's how it begins...

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Jimmy chewed absentmindedly on his left thumbnail. He had always been a nervous twitcher. He stood in front of the window, watching the birds dip and soar across the overcast sky, and wondered what it felt like to fly. His father's gruff voice jolted Jimmy out of his thoughts. Jimmy's hands jumped as though they had been electrocuted, then settled to worrying at the hem of his jumper.

"James!" Seamus Moriarty bellowed. The Irishman's face was ruddy, as was his hair, except where it had turned to gray above his ears and amidst the stubble that dotted his chin. Seamus had been born and raised a dockworker like his father and grandfather before him. While not grossly overweight, Seamus's middle protruded over his belt and jiggled when he walked. He smoked and swore and drank frequently. Since being forced to immigrate to England to find work, Seamus smoked and swore and drank even more frequently. Jimmy had learnt to scurry quickly by when his father was smoking, to tiptoe in the shadows when he was swearing, and to hide when he was drinking.

On this particular morning, Seamus was sprawled across the couch in their too-small flat, a cigar dangling lazily in his fingers. "Yes, sir?" Jimmy squeaked. "C'mere, lad," Seamus beckoned with his cigar, "If'n any of those fancy English lads be given you trouble, you's give 'em trouble right back, ya here? I don' wanna hear that me boy is a coward. You show 'em how a tru' Irishman fights, eh? You knock 'em flat on their pretty litt'l arses!" Jimmy's eyes were fixated on the cigar, which bobbed and danced and jerked with his old man's words, finally swinging out and nearly catching Jimmy on the chin when Seamus punctuated his command with a swing of his left fist. Seamus's left hook was legendary on the docks.

Jimmy nodded and managed a quick "Yessir", before scampering off to the kitchen table. He quickly gulped down his bowl of cold cereal and drained his glass of milk. Jimmy stood up quickly, knocking his chair over in the process. Seamus grunted in warning. Jimmy picked up the chair and headed for the door. His mother caught him before he could reach it. "Uh, uh," she tutted, "Be sure to keep bundled up. It's fierce weather out, an' that dose is goin' round." She licked her thumb and rubbed the milk off Jimmy's top lip.

Brigid Moriarty was a quiet woman who had married Seamus after a whirlwind summer romance when they were both young. She had lost her slim figure over the years, as well as most of her love for Seamus. Brigid had dealt with his insufferable temper for two and a half decades and only really stayed for Jimmy. He had been a surprise baby, coming when Brigid was 40 and worn-down. Jimmy had inherited his mother's soft-spoken nature and her face - except his eyes, whose origin was undecided since they were coal black, not green like his parents'. Jimmy stood on his toes, gave his mother a quick peck on the cheek, grabbed his backpack, and dashed out the door to catch the bus, pulling on a loose thread on the sleeve of his jumper.

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