the derry girl || james maguire

four

Niamh's pov

It was another day at school, and we were in another boring assembly, all we wanted to know was where this years trip was.

"Before I dismiss you for the weekend, a few announcements. On Monday morning, several of our Year 13s will face their GCSE maths resit." Sister Michael goes on.

Shite I forgot about that

"Let me see, what else? This year's destination for the Euro Trotters trip will be, dramatic pause. Did you actually want me to do the dramatic pause?"

Come on to fuck

"Paris, it's going to be Paris. If you need any further information, there is a stall in the foyer. Sadly, I am unable to come on this one as I despise the French." Sister concludes.

I walked with James at the back of our group as we walked towards the stall for Paris. Erin was talking to this bitch Charlene Kasvanasgh, I don't like Charlene, neither does Michelle, she's just so stuck up, not as stuck up as Jenny but nearly. I could see that James was staring at her, so I "accidentally" dropped my bag on his toe.

"Ouch Niamh!"

"Sorry James." I mumbled.

"It's alright." He said, putting his arm around my shoulders.

Keep calm

"Where do we sign? Hold on! Stall the fucking ball! £375 quid? Are you for real?" Michelle shouts.

"What?! £375 each? Isn't there some sort of group discount?" Erin asked.

"It is a bit steep, Jenny." Claire pipes in.

"Just dip into your trust fund. I do it all the time." Jenny tells us.

"Our what?" I say.

"It's like an account your parents set up for you to help pay for things like university, your first car, educational trips!" Jenny smiles.

"I didn't know about this. Did you know about this? Clare asked us.

"No, did I fuck!" Michelle shouts.

"Trust funds, you say. Interesting." Erin smirks.

Turns out neither Erin, Orla or myself have a trust fund, and we were trying to sort out the order for the chippy.

"OK, that is one portion of redfish, one portion of whitefish, two bags of chips." Gerry listed off.

"No, no, no! Two bags won't be enough." Grandpa Joe complained

"Two is plenty, Joe." Gerry insists.

"Four! Four should cover it."

"And I want 12 chicken nuggets, a small battered hot dog, plenty of onions, plenty of." Orla listed her order.

"What do you want Niamh love" Aunt Sarah asked me.

"just chips and mushy peas" I reply.

The room went silent.

"Are you feeling alright Niamh." Mary asked on her way to the first aid kit.

"I've a headache but I'm fine, just not hungry." I say.

"Awk Niamh."

"Right we better get a move on, at that chippy, well, it's every man for himself on a Friday night." Aunt Mary says.

Then Gerry and Grandpa Joe argued about how many bags of chips we should get, and how he needed chicken in his chicken burger, then we were blessed with a phone call from uncle Colm. Turns out two gunmen forced their way into his house and tied him up by his shoe laces, then stole his van. Apparently he was coming to dinner, how fun.