focal
12-01-2010, 07:48 PM
Hey, new to the forums. I'm 17, from Dublin and like everything got to do with the English language. I particularly like writing short stories. This one I wrote the other night. I'd love some feedback as my stories have only really been read my English teacher. I'd appreciate any criticism or pointers as I'm only learning. Thanks :p
Departure
She always felt like she had no choice, no say; as though if she raised any objections they wouldn’t have been listened to anyway. Now, looking out of the fifty foot window pane of glass at the sun setting under the wet October sky, she suddenly felt angry with herself for being so submissive in allowing Paul to convince her go along with his stupid plan.
She knew this was her last chance to object: if she got on the plane, there would be no turning back. But if she refused, he could hardly go without her- Paul couldn’t handle the kids on his own and they certainly wouldn’t like to be met by a strange woman they hadn’t met before without her. Heck, even she hadn’t met Paul’s sister before. It suddenly seemed a foolish plan to move into this woman’s home, even if it was only temporary. What did the two of them know? Neither herself nor her husband had ever lived outside Westmeath, never mind Ireland. Even the hustle-and-bustle of this brand-new airport terminal seemed foreign to her, the complete opposite of their cosy bungalow outside Mullingar. How would they cope in London, one of the busiest cities in the world? Instead of feeling a sense of excitement, the thought continued to depress and worry her further.
She was shaken from her thoughts by the loud, annoyingly accented voice of a member of cabin crew.
“Attention all passengers travelling on EI flight 993 to Gatwick- please make your way to gate 19 where we are now boarding.”
Irritated, she turned away from the giant window to where her children were sitting, Jack engrossed in his Nintendo game and the twins, Rebecca and Sorcha, quietly reading their books on princesses and their happy marriages to handsome princes. The sight of the three of them soothed her a little, until she saw Paul half-running over towards them, back from watching the rugby match with the other men on the large screen TVs no doubt.
“Alright guys?,” he asked excitedly, wringing his hands together. The greeting, she felt, was addressed solely to the children, rather than all four of them and they all looked up at their father in response.
Rebecca and Sorcha, the poor dolls, were the picture of happiness. They were excited about this ‘glamorous life’ that London seemed to offer. She knew Jack, however, wasn’t happy leaving Westmeath and Ireland. He wasn’t fooled as easily as the twins. In the last few weeks, he refused to go out and play football with his friends on the green like he normally did every day after school. He didn’t go out to Conor’s or to Adam’s to play Playstation and she didn’t see any of his friends around the bungalow either. She knew this was his way in dealing with leaving- perhaps by not making a big deal it wouldn’t happen- and she didn’t interfere. It broke her heart all the same when she stood outside his bedroom door, helplessly listening to him sob. When she was told she was pregnant with him at twenty years old, her life seemed over- no more living wildly- and yet twelve years later excitement was practically handed to her she all she felt was dread and dismay.
She had lost herself in her thoughts again as the children had already taken their place in the queue for the aeroplane and Paul was now coming back to see what was wrong. She was aware that she was staring absentmindedly at nothing in particular and although she wasn’t looking at him, she knew that Paul had his eyebrows raised in that questioning look that always annoyed her.
“Siobh, what’s wrong?” he asked. She realised then that she hated when he called her that. “Come on, we’re about to board.”
“No,” she muttered, not in response to what her husband had just said but to the thoughts that had constantly hung over her for the past few weeks. The word had been dying to get out for a long time.
“No? What do you mean no? Here, look, you can use the toilet once you’re on the plane, I don’t want to be missing the flight!”
“No, Paul. I’m not going.”
“On the plane? Look, I know you think we’ve forgotten something but listen, we gave the bungalow keys to the agent, all our stuff is in Cathy’s already and my mother told me she can take it from there if we have any problems.”
“No, Paul, I don’t want to go.”
“Wha... Are you serious?! I mean, how many times have we discussed this?”
“The one thing we did not do was discuss this,” she said, aware that her voice was sounding more forceful and was pleased by it. “Not once did I feel I had a choice in the matter.”
“A choice? You think this is what I want?”
“I don’t think you mind either way. I know you hated your job so when they laid you off, you decided to waltz us all over to England. You know, I had a job too, and good friends. Didn’t you think of Jack and Sorcha and Rebecca and their friends?”
“It wasn’t a case of thinking, it was the case of making a decision that was best for the family,” he muttered, aware that many people were now looking at them as her voice got louder and more forceful.
“Don’t give me that! You never consulted me about this. I know this country’s in ruins but that does not give you the right to decide-“
“Siobh, what choice did I have, eh? What choice?” They were shouting now but neither cared anymore. The few people remaining who were waiting to board the flight turned their heads towards them. Jack and the twins stood where they had been left by their dad and people were beginning to walk around them.
“You could’ve consulted me about it, discussed our options. You just waltzed home, thinking you’re Einstein for coming up with the solution of going to London. Tell me, Paul, what will happen when the Olympics are over. Where will we go with your ‘specialist skills’? Are we ever going to come back?”
The last question caught even herself off guard. It was the one she had been yearning to ask for weeks and the one she knew Paul didn’t have an answer to.
“Well?”
“Look, Siobh I don’t know if we’ll ever be back but we need to leave now.” Paul pointed over to the gate where there was no longer a queue and where the air hostess was looking over at them and the children, waiting for them to board. “If you feel so strongly, we can discuss our future in more detail over in Cathy’s but for the moment this is what we have to do. My sister and friends in London have been so good to us with all they have offered and these tickets have been damned expensive.”
“What do you mean ‘if I feel so strongly’- of course I feel strongly, this is....,” but she trailed off as she realised Paul was no longer listening and was now beckoning the children to follow him through the gate, passports in his hand.
She was aware of her own passport in her hand now and looked down at it, tears in her eyes. She felt strangely anonymous and forgotten. She loved Paul, she was certain of that, and they had argued umpteen times before- from when they were sweethearts at age sixteen to when Sorcha had been diagnosed with autism the year before. Yet none of those arguments- foolish and petty they seemed now- seemed as hurtful as this.
She looked over to the gate- the twins were running through the tunnel to the plane and Jack was following close behind. Paul was standing just past where the air hostesses were waiting for her. He was looking at her, giving her that questioning look that had annoyed her a few minutes beforehand. She stared back at him vaguely, into those brown eyes she had fallen for sixteen years ago. How foolish it now seemed to have rushed into marrying him two months before she had Jack, but again she had felt pressured- from her parents, her grandparents, Paul’s parents and most of all by Paul himself. She had fallen for his honeyed words when he had proposed a week after hearing the news of her pregnancy and at the time, after much talking to from her parents and Paul, marriage seemed to be the perfect thing- she would feel secure and happy with the person she loved for the rest of her life. What more could she have wanted?
Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last time, she felt she had no choice. But as she warily walked towards the air hostess with the familiar pleasant discomfort in her gut she had first experienced twelve years ago, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit triumphant. Undoubtedly, Paul would have to find out soon enough but for that moment, she had something which he did not know about, something she did not have to share with him. Although it was equally theirs, for that moment it was all hers, a precious, innocent something that didn’t need to divide them or be fought over. Not yet.
Departure
She always felt like she had no choice, no say; as though if she raised any objections they wouldn’t have been listened to anyway. Now, looking out of the fifty foot window pane of glass at the sun setting under the wet October sky, she suddenly felt angry with herself for being so submissive in allowing Paul to convince her go along with his stupid plan.
She knew this was her last chance to object: if she got on the plane, there would be no turning back. But if she refused, he could hardly go without her- Paul couldn’t handle the kids on his own and they certainly wouldn’t like to be met by a strange woman they hadn’t met before without her. Heck, even she hadn’t met Paul’s sister before. It suddenly seemed a foolish plan to move into this woman’s home, even if it was only temporary. What did the two of them know? Neither herself nor her husband had ever lived outside Westmeath, never mind Ireland. Even the hustle-and-bustle of this brand-new airport terminal seemed foreign to her, the complete opposite of their cosy bungalow outside Mullingar. How would they cope in London, one of the busiest cities in the world? Instead of feeling a sense of excitement, the thought continued to depress and worry her further.
She was shaken from her thoughts by the loud, annoyingly accented voice of a member of cabin crew.
“Attention all passengers travelling on EI flight 993 to Gatwick- please make your way to gate 19 where we are now boarding.”
Irritated, she turned away from the giant window to where her children were sitting, Jack engrossed in his Nintendo game and the twins, Rebecca and Sorcha, quietly reading their books on princesses and their happy marriages to handsome princes. The sight of the three of them soothed her a little, until she saw Paul half-running over towards them, back from watching the rugby match with the other men on the large screen TVs no doubt.
“Alright guys?,” he asked excitedly, wringing his hands together. The greeting, she felt, was addressed solely to the children, rather than all four of them and they all looked up at their father in response.
Rebecca and Sorcha, the poor dolls, were the picture of happiness. They were excited about this ‘glamorous life’ that London seemed to offer. She knew Jack, however, wasn’t happy leaving Westmeath and Ireland. He wasn’t fooled as easily as the twins. In the last few weeks, he refused to go out and play football with his friends on the green like he normally did every day after school. He didn’t go out to Conor’s or to Adam’s to play Playstation and she didn’t see any of his friends around the bungalow either. She knew this was his way in dealing with leaving- perhaps by not making a big deal it wouldn’t happen- and she didn’t interfere. It broke her heart all the same when she stood outside his bedroom door, helplessly listening to him sob. When she was told she was pregnant with him at twenty years old, her life seemed over- no more living wildly- and yet twelve years later excitement was practically handed to her she all she felt was dread and dismay.
She had lost herself in her thoughts again as the children had already taken their place in the queue for the aeroplane and Paul was now coming back to see what was wrong. She was aware that she was staring absentmindedly at nothing in particular and although she wasn’t looking at him, she knew that Paul had his eyebrows raised in that questioning look that always annoyed her.
“Siobh, what’s wrong?” he asked. She realised then that she hated when he called her that. “Come on, we’re about to board.”
“No,” she muttered, not in response to what her husband had just said but to the thoughts that had constantly hung over her for the past few weeks. The word had been dying to get out for a long time.
“No? What do you mean no? Here, look, you can use the toilet once you’re on the plane, I don’t want to be missing the flight!”
“No, Paul. I’m not going.”
“On the plane? Look, I know you think we’ve forgotten something but listen, we gave the bungalow keys to the agent, all our stuff is in Cathy’s already and my mother told me she can take it from there if we have any problems.”
“No, Paul, I don’t want to go.”
“Wha... Are you serious?! I mean, how many times have we discussed this?”
“The one thing we did not do was discuss this,” she said, aware that her voice was sounding more forceful and was pleased by it. “Not once did I feel I had a choice in the matter.”
“A choice? You think this is what I want?”
“I don’t think you mind either way. I know you hated your job so when they laid you off, you decided to waltz us all over to England. You know, I had a job too, and good friends. Didn’t you think of Jack and Sorcha and Rebecca and their friends?”
“It wasn’t a case of thinking, it was the case of making a decision that was best for the family,” he muttered, aware that many people were now looking at them as her voice got louder and more forceful.
“Don’t give me that! You never consulted me about this. I know this country’s in ruins but that does not give you the right to decide-“
“Siobh, what choice did I have, eh? What choice?” They were shouting now but neither cared anymore. The few people remaining who were waiting to board the flight turned their heads towards them. Jack and the twins stood where they had been left by their dad and people were beginning to walk around them.
“You could’ve consulted me about it, discussed our options. You just waltzed home, thinking you’re Einstein for coming up with the solution of going to London. Tell me, Paul, what will happen when the Olympics are over. Where will we go with your ‘specialist skills’? Are we ever going to come back?”
The last question caught even herself off guard. It was the one she had been yearning to ask for weeks and the one she knew Paul didn’t have an answer to.
“Well?”
“Look, Siobh I don’t know if we’ll ever be back but we need to leave now.” Paul pointed over to the gate where there was no longer a queue and where the air hostess was looking over at them and the children, waiting for them to board. “If you feel so strongly, we can discuss our future in more detail over in Cathy’s but for the moment this is what we have to do. My sister and friends in London have been so good to us with all they have offered and these tickets have been damned expensive.”
“What do you mean ‘if I feel so strongly’- of course I feel strongly, this is....,” but she trailed off as she realised Paul was no longer listening and was now beckoning the children to follow him through the gate, passports in his hand.
She was aware of her own passport in her hand now and looked down at it, tears in her eyes. She felt strangely anonymous and forgotten. She loved Paul, she was certain of that, and they had argued umpteen times before- from when they were sweethearts at age sixteen to when Sorcha had been diagnosed with autism the year before. Yet none of those arguments- foolish and petty they seemed now- seemed as hurtful as this.
She looked over to the gate- the twins were running through the tunnel to the plane and Jack was following close behind. Paul was standing just past where the air hostesses were waiting for her. He was looking at her, giving her that questioning look that had annoyed her a few minutes beforehand. She stared back at him vaguely, into those brown eyes she had fallen for sixteen years ago. How foolish it now seemed to have rushed into marrying him two months before she had Jack, but again she had felt pressured- from her parents, her grandparents, Paul’s parents and most of all by Paul himself. She had fallen for his honeyed words when he had proposed a week after hearing the news of her pregnancy and at the time, after much talking to from her parents and Paul, marriage seemed to be the perfect thing- she would feel secure and happy with the person she loved for the rest of her life. What more could she have wanted?
Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last time, she felt she had no choice. But as she warily walked towards the air hostess with the familiar pleasant discomfort in her gut she had first experienced twelve years ago, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit triumphant. Undoubtedly, Paul would have to find out soon enough but for that moment, she had something which he did not know about, something she did not have to share with him. Although it was equally theirs, for that moment it was all hers, a precious, innocent something that didn’t need to divide them or be fought over. Not yet.