Derry Girls: New Horizons, Part 1

Figure in the dark

Jim sat at the kitchen table and looked solemnly into the screens of a pair of laptops that were sitting on his table. Adjusting his glasses; He began to get frustrated at the difficulty of navigating his way around the screen using the mousepad.

"Christ, these fecking Apple laptops..... they won't last, so they won't." Jim whispered while he deleted numerous files.

"Alright there, Jim?" Colm said as he walked into the kitchen, startling the man out of his thread of concentration.

"Ach, Colm! Ye scared the bejesus out of me! How did you get in?" Jim asked.

"That Marco lad let me in. I came across with Orla, so I did; She said she's come to pick up a tent, so she said." They both turned at the sound of a knocking on the kitchen window. Orla waved at them, wearing her camouflage jacket and beret. She then held up the rolled-up tent.

"Thanks Jim! I've got it now. Can ye hear me through these triple glazing windows?!" Orla called through the kitchen window.

"....Aye Orla! We can hear ye fine love." Jim called.

"Alright. We're off now! See ye later! Bye Uncle Colm!" Orla waved and walked off.

"See ya later Jim! Bye Colm!" Marco called as he made his way down the stairs and out the door with Coco Pops barking with excitement.

"Bye lad! Have a good time!" Jim called; with the door shut, the two men were alone once again in the kitchen.

"So, what about ye, Jim?" Colm asked. "On the wee computer are ye now?"

"Aye. Just getting rid of some things. Don't want to find ourselves in the same spot as O'Driscoll now, do we?" Jim answered.

"Aye. Desperate business that was. Very desperate." Colm replied. "It was still a grand idea of yours that was."

"Ye just make sure ye keep that story to yourself now Colm. Do ye hear?" Jim warned.

"Ach, no bother there Jim. Most people I talk to these days don't seem to have much of an attention span, it seems." Colm remarked.

Sister Michael rolled her eyes as she walked out the main school doors. Not even the fact that she'd be staying in more adequate quarters at the campsite could shield the horror that beheld her. Not the sight of timid lower year girls saying goodbye to their parents, not the sight of Father Peter's ever changing 'shiny hair'. It was the sight of Jenny Joyce with a guitar strapped over her shoulder that made the Nun's blood run cold. There weren't many things in the world that got Sister Michael's back up. But even her chiselled exterior crumbled like the pupils did whenever Jenny Joyce came close to a microphone or instrument. She felt the only true victim in this whole mess would be herself, and her 8 hours sleep. She looked up.

"I don't ask for much. But if yer even there.... Give me strength so I don't break that fecking guitar over that girl's head!" She whispered with despair before moving towards the row of minibuses.

The whole gang was decked out in their hiking clothes with thick soled hiking boots. The sun beamed down, accompanied by a gentle breeze. Father Peter directed the stacking of the backpacks, tents and other equipment. The camping party itself was a mixture of all the lower years, from first to fourth year girls. While James, Marco and Orla stacked the backpacks into the boot, Michelle lingered around them, holding onto her backpack for as long as possible. When Father Peter asked James to go with him to help load up the other minibus, Michelle saw her chance and stashed her backpack gently on top of the pile. The distinct sound of clinking bottles could be heard from inside. Marco flashed her a knowing look.

"From Dennis?" He asked.

"Don't say a fucking word." Michelle whispered. Marco mockingly crossed his heart. "Oi, how did ye know?"