Seahill, Northern Ireland; 1997
Tabitha was the new girl in town, just around to help her sick grandmother with her bookshop. She was quiet, trying to keep out of the way of others, particularly the attention of men. She never meant to get his atten...
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Today was the day, and so far, it was perfect. The sun was shining bright, a light wind blowing, everything was going according to the time they planned.
Tabitha was happy, really happy, about what was going to happen. Within 36 hours, she would be in London, celebrating turning sixteen while jumping and raving for her favorite girl group. It would've been better if she could choose who to go with, but she guessed not everything would be perfect.
Currently, she was standing in the station waiting for the train to arrive, the suitcase at hand. Her left foot twisted around in a circular motion, anxious as the seconds felt stretched out against her favor. She was near the seating bench but refused to relax. Her brown eyes kept checking the station clock, ever so often hoping it would be 9 am; there were still fifteen minutes to go.
Unlike the young girl, Stephen sat down, newspaper at hand. Though he was reading it, he took a glance at her once in a while at her jumpy behavior. If a lack of patience is considered a mortal sin, Tabitha would be on the top of the list to hell by the way she was carrying on. From the beginning, she was only holding tight onto her small suitcase; even though they were only going to be there for a day, she wanted to stay prepared. He only had a small duffle bag with everything enough for the day ahead.
It was Tuesday, so hopefully, by Thursday evening, they would be back to Seahill. He needed to get ready for Friday Mass. Stephen began to sort out his sermon on the train ride to London. Curiosity peaked in his mind wondering what Tabitha would do during that time. Maybe she would read a book like last time, hopefully not anything like the book from last time, but as long as she behaved, he would be fine. Being quiet wouldn't be hard on her end though, she wasn't never one to try to speak to him.
Maybe, just maybe during this trip, they would grow closer, on a spiritual level, of course. Tabitha may not view him as much of a bad guy after the trip.
As he found his mind wandering as the minutes went by, light brown eyes drifted onto the outfit the young girl wore. She wore a denim skirt that ended at her knees, along with a dusky pink blouse with a denim jacket over it. Throughout their journey to the station, he told Tabitha about wearing such a short skirt. It would lead men on, showing so much skin. He knew she didn't want to hear that, but it was the truth, at least from the view of the church. He knew if she wore this in front of the town folks, they would say backhand comments about her.
Tabitha didn't like his critique one bit, inadvertently covering her legs whenever he would look at them when she was sitting in the ride there. If he had a problem with her skirt, then seeing her full blouse, he would have a fit. Foley would always act like he's better than her, and well, everyone else in town too. Maybe that's why she felt him getting under her skin more than anyone else. He walked around like he was the best thing since sliced bread, many seeking his advice while he was half their age. Her jaw rolled as she felt his eyes on her legs again, fingers quick to tug her skirt to avert his gaze.
