The Troubles

Solidarity Forever

Seamus's funeral was held on the following Saturday, inside the McCormick's house. Elliot had made sure his dad wore a suit, despite it not being his desired choice, in order to display some sort of respect - Fred wore one too, although without a tie. Clouds seemed to hang over the house, although silvery, delicate ones with wisps of white unfurling from them. The house that usually was brimful of laughter and familiarity was now a strange place, infested with a mournfulness that sent sadness through Elliot. Joe hadn't spoken to Elliot since the riot, not even leaving the house, although today he was present, and Elliot caught a glimpse of him walking through into the main room. He caught his friend's eye, and got up from his seat, walking over to where Elliot stood. 

"What's up," Joe mumbled out, looking across at Elliot with a more humbled version of his usual expression. 

"Not much," Elliot replied back, digging his hand into his pocket. "Wha' about you?"

"Nothin' much. Want tae go outside?"

"Alrigh."

Joe sat on the swing, gently rocking backwards and forwards as Elliot leaned against a tree, fiddling with the loose thread on his jacket.

"I forget to tell you earlier," Elliot spoke up, pulling a small brown paper bag from his jacket pocket and handing it to Joe, who  looked up in interest. "I finally got your Christmas present."

A shadow of a smile appeared on Joe's face as he slid out the flat disc, the 7 inch record lying along his hand. 

"Bowie?" he said with a smile, examining the record. "Not too shabby."

"Not too shabby," Elliot echoed in confirmation as Joe ran his fingers around the edge of the vinyl. "Joe -" Elliot trailed off, debating whether or not to disclose the information, but his friend's eyes were already sparked with anticipation. 

"Yeah?"

"I need to tell you something."

"You're not a poof too are you?" Joe gave a small grin, sitting the record in the Y of a tree branch. 

"Nah," Elliot replied with a small smile, pausing and then looking at the grass. "I'm moving, Joe."

Joe's face fell for a second, as he analysed Elliot. "You's what?"

"I'm movin' - to London."

Joe sat for a moment, as if trying to figure out whether his friend was joking. "No you're not," he responded with a confused smile, a tone of hopefulness in his voice. 

"There was an agent, at the pub a few weeks ago, and he wants tae sign me. To a label."

A wave of disbelief washed over Joe, as he realised Elliot was telling the truth, his face tensing in shock. 

"But, you know, you're not - it's not like, you're not going are you?"

Elliot nodded slowly. 

"I wanted tae tell you, and I couldn't find a time."

"Well great fucking timing, mate!" Joe retorted, standing up from the swing, his face full of betrayal. 

"I'm sorry man, I haven't seen you in ages and I didn't want to tell you with short notice -"

"You haven't fuckin' seen me in ages because my brother's just died you absolute prick!" Joe snapped back, as Elliot took a breath and rubbed a hand across his head. 

"Joe -"

"Fuck you man!"

"I'm sorry, bu' it's a great opportunity. I can't stay in this fuckin' place me whole life!"