The Troubles

Farewell Ireland

"We're going to be fuckin' millionaires," Fred murmured in sing song to the tune of 'The Money Song' with a grin, the usual cigarette dangling between his teeth as he grinned and tapped his feet on the floor. "Fuckin' millionaires."

"If you got it, you don't need it," his dad joined it. 

"If you need it, you don't got it," they sang in chorus, pretending to bow to each other with a flourish of the hands.

"You know I migh' not even get on the label, I'm still just auditionin' for the -"

"You don't get it, shame on you," they both continued, raising the volume to drown out Elliot's pointing out reality. "Funny, funny, funny, what money can do!"

Elliot's mouth upturned into a grin as he watched the excitement shrouding his dad and brother; they had linked arms and were hopping around, switching arms every time they turned around. His own stomach was fluttering with butterflies, each time he thought about it, especially as he slung the duffel bag over his shoulder. 

"La la to Elliot! La la to Elliot! La -"

"Dad, we're gonna miss the bus."

Elliot's dad looked at his watch, and hastily grabbed his hat as Fred pulled on his jacket, and they all pushed through the door. The bus was a few steps away from the corner shop - from there Elliot was set to meet the agent by the plane. Halfway down the cobbled street, their run was interrupted by a shout from the roof of a nearby house.

"Elliot! Elliot!"

Elliot stopped his run to turn around, and Fred and his dad stumbled to a stop, turning around impatiently.

"Come on, hurry up you git!" Fred called out. 

Joe sent a grin back to Elliot, as a small roof tile slid off from next to his foot. 

"I'm gonna miss you!" Joe shouted. 

"Me too!" Elliot shouted back, and there was a brief silence as they tried to figure out how to leave it. "I'm coming back!" he added, with a laugh. 

"Hurry up, man! Piss off to London you bastard!" Joe finally called back, and Elliot's face broke into a massive grin, as he saluted his friend, and turned around, running after Fred. Joe watched him disappear round the corner, only getting down from the roof five minutes after he was certain Elliot had totally disappeared.

The bus crunched along the gravel as it slowly came to a stop before the three of them, and Elliot turned around, with a sudden reluctance to get on, staring at his dad.

"Da', I changed my mind."

"Get on the fucking bus, Elliot!"

Letting out a large smile, Elliot jumped up the stairs, but turned around once more as he felt his dad slide something into his pocket. Confused, he looked questioning, but his dad shooed him back up the bus, and he clambered on with a grin, swinging into a seat and staring out the window at Fred. His brother was shouting something but he couldn't hear through the window, and he frowned.

"You what?" he mouthed through the window. 

"I've got something for you!"

"What?!"

Fred looked around secretively, before reaching into his pocket. Elliot watched in anticipation, until his brother pulled out his hand again, with his middle finger raised. Elliot laughed as Fred let out a grin, and stepped backwards from the bus. Slowly it began to roll away, and Elliot felt his heart lurch in fear at what he was doing. In a rush, he leapt up, leaving his bag on the seat and raced through the seats towards the back of the bus, where he could see the whole road behind him, as he slowly felt himself falling away from everything he knew. In the centre of the road, his brother remained, for the first time, expressing his appreciation for Elliot with the most frantic of waving, leaping off his feet to make sure his brother could see him. When the bus finally rounded the corner, Elliot slowly made his way back to his seat, falling into it and reaching into his coat pocket, to see what his dad had slid in there. Something unexplainable was conjured in his mind, and a lump formed in his throat as he saw the picture of his mum that his dad had taken at Christmas. In an old biro scribble on the front read:

Keep on playing. 

Elliot brushed his hands over the photo before tucking it deep into the pocket of his jacket, zipping it up in safety. 

London, he thought, a smile growing on his face. Fucking London.