The Summer of '93

White sand and sunshine

"Did you have a good day son?" Ali's Mother asked Mark.

"Yeah!" Mark replied with a double pitched yeah. 

"We took him on rides, he shared my sherbet lemons, and these are for you!" I said to Mr McGregor.

"Ooh, Pontefract caaaakes!!" He had a big cheesy grin. They had just bought a new sofa set and Ali was trying out the recliner on the chair. 

"Hey, careful with that, that's MY chair." Ali's Father warned, as Ali pressed the side buttons, and relaxed in an exaggerated manner.

"Hey old Man, you're getting on, this chair is for you!"

His Father sat down with a can of beer, reclined his chair and let out a contented sigh and he pulled the ring on the can.

"I deserve this for all the years of putting up with your Greetin!" He replied. "Honestly Megan, if he had continued on crying like he did for the first three years of his life, I'd have thrown him in the Clyde!"

I snuggled into Ali on the new sofa. Mark cuddled in too to his brother, on the other side. Ali pulled Mark in, with his arm around him.

The following day we hung out at his and I drove home again.

A week later I was on my way, heading up to Edinburgh. I could feel the weather was starting to change as I drove to the Barracks, for our Ionian trip. I reflected on how much had happened over this year. It had taken an unexpected turn with Ali and I'd be wrong to say that I hadn't developed feelings for Ali.

I picked him up and he was in a bit of a mood. Thinking back now and knowing him better, it was the obvious. He had already told me. He felt obligated to go to Iona with me and he just wanted to hang out with his pals. I was going to suffer a bit for it this weekend. It never even crossed my mind. I just didn't understand him well enough.

Ali was quiet as we set off on our journey. "You're the official map navigator." I said to him.

He gave me a weak smile. The weather was 'dreich' (bleak). The clouds were blocking out the sun and the rain was that fine misty rain that drenches everything it touches.

"How many tours of Ireland have you done?" I asked him. 

"Too many!" He replied. 

"What's it like being in and working within that tension?" I asked with genuine interest.

"You remember the first time you dropped me off at the barracks? At Redford?"

I replied, "How could I forget that fateful evening?"

He wasn't for smiling. His expression was dark and I could read on his face that his mind was troubled.  

"I had just passed out of Redford and we were sent over to Belfast." I paid attention because I knew he was telling me something important, something significant.

"We were at the border. We do guard and there's nothing to protect you there, it's just a shack. This car pulled up and John who I passed out with, there was a bomb in the boot and he got blown up."

"Oh God!" I shrieked. I didn't see that one coming.

Ali broke down. His obvious anger crushed his face, and his face screwed. He punched the dash in frustration. "He was only 21. We had to clear it..." His voice broke. The tears streamed down his face. I stopped the car where it was clear by the side of the road. I realised we just had to sit and let the upset pass. He stopped crying. I kissed his cheek. He covered his face and held his chin in his hands. Ali took a deep breath. I didn't make a fuss. We sat in silence. I started up the car and let him sit quietly for some moments.