He was intent now, fast eyes and faster reactions as he sped out of the darkness of the harbour and into the flickering lights of Dublin and people “Do you know a place to stay Jamie?” Emmy was beginning to sink, despite the adrenalin that was crackling off him

“Seamus said to go to a place called Fibber McGee’s, up the top of O’Connell Street, said to ask in there and they would see me right” He glanced away from the road for a second to take her in “Are you alright Emmy?”

“I need a bed” ok so she didn’t want to be a party pooper but it was a long time since London at 8am and that snatched bowl of cornflakes before she headed out to work, oblivious to the sudden change in circumstance that was about to leap into her life in the shape of Jamie McGuire and his all too intoxicating plea. His squeeze of her thigh in the moments before he slammed the car into first gear again though had her catch her breath, maybe sleep wasn’t quite the plan just yet.

They might have been out of place anywhere else in the world, the wild eyes and wild curls of him and her in a uniform for some other life making for an odd couple outside the not so enticing bar. No traditional stained glass, no comforting smell of the evening’s offering of stew and tatties, no pretence of anything other than heavy drinking. “Take yer to all the best places eh?” Jamie grabbed her hand and pushed open the door to what was evidently too far gone into the evening to bother with being anything other than itself. She didn’t think she had ever seen so many men, engaged in talking and swaying and staring at the huge screen on the wall where even larger men battled their way through mud after a ball

“Well it’s not exactly River Dance and bodhrans is it?” Emmy grinned at him as they finally made it to the bar and looked hopefully at the array of alcohol to choose from

“Sure I’ll find a leprechaun for yer later” his whisper and his lips against her ear though were interrupted by the arrival of a barmaid

“What will I get yer now?” It seemed to be a somewhat pointless question since the heavy pump of the Guinness tap was already being pulled back by expert arms, and Emmy shook her head slightly to see the babbling stream of conversation that followed, involving accents and migration and uncles and where on earth could he rest his head, and look at his poor Lass, dying on her feet, all while the creamy head settled to a satisfactory three quarter inch on the top of two pints. “See I told yer it would be a piece of cake, Brenda here has a sister owns a place round the corner, says she’ll give her a ring now, see if she can squeeze us in on account of how far we came” he turned to her at last, just a little froth on his lip from the long hard gulp he had taken, he was home, she could feel it, settling into his skin, his soul soothed by like, easy conversations and easy with women

“You always get what you want Jamie?” her fingers reached to his mouth to wipe across his lip, catching on the bristles that were intent on pushing through in new found freedom

“It feels like I have now” His hands lifted her onto a barstool as his hips opened her legs, well as much as that uniform would allow leastways and she wriggled forward just a touch. Barely 2 pieces of cloth and enough heat to light the tinder between them and his mouth breathed desire into hers.

“Jamie McGuire! Well I’ll be dancing with the faeries! We have heard all about you!” a hand on his shoulder pulled him away “Apologies chailín mo chroí; but Brenda said that Seamus' nephew was here! Will yer come and let me introduce yer, his old mates want to hear how the ol’ bugger is doing...” and she watched him slip away into a mass of male and heavy hands on backs.

“Don’t you be worrying yerself lass he’ll be back as soon as you can blink an eye” Brenda winked and pushed a large glass of whiskey across the beer slopped bar “aren’t too many women in here aside from us anyhow..” which took Emmy several sips to work through, before she grinned her acknowledgement of the sentiment. She would see him now and again, or a flash of him anyhow like one of those photos taken with a long exposure that carry a streamed impression long after the thing moved on. A whirl of curls and hands and smiles that might have charmed the shamrock into growing four petals, pints that seemed to be endlessly replaced like the magic cooking pot only she couldn’t remember the words for ‘stop’ and in truth, as much as she could fall asleep sitting up she would willingly watch him spin all night.

At last Brenda reached a solicitous hand over the bar and caught hers. “I have told Pat to leave the lad be, my sister has a room ready fer yer, just round the corner like he said, Marlborough Street, nothing fancy mind” Emmy shrugged, right now a park bench sounded enticing, in the second that she smiled and thanked the woman he was back, tender eyes and a sorry that she shook her head to.

It was a blur she wouldn’t find her way back through if she tried; how they ended up at the small B&B and up the narrow stairs after having to refuse almost to the point of rudeness the offers of tea and whiskey and a small bite to eat that she had no doubt would take the form of a four course meal from Brenda’s sister, who introduced herself as Mrs Murphy as if it was customary not to have a first name, but at last he closed the door to silence. He was pulling curtains and lighting the bedside lamps, pulling back the corner of the world weary counterpane and carrying on like they had been married ten years when he heard her sigh from where she stood by the door watching and thinking, Jamie with her in a B&B, somewhere in Dublin and no luggage and no toothbrush and no idea about what the hell she was doing here except that she was.

All of a sudden he was hers again, a warm kiss and his lips were whispering “Come with me lass, I need to shower before I sleep with yer, been a long day” Nothing like being up front but he held all that respect and truth dear and she nodded with a smile. There had been no chance of even entertaining the thought of pronouncing French words like ‘en suite’, so two heads poked out from behind their door into the corridor looking for a no doubt ceramic notice that would herald clean and washed and ready and they crept along the dark hall. The light pull finally found Emmy smiled at the familiarly slightly peeled and homely bathroom. Towels that had been boil washed one too many times, lino that was making a claim to retro but was actually the real thing, and those knitted dolls that covered the toilet rolls on the windowsill, smiling lest anyone should guess what was lurking beneath their skirts.

In the time it took for her to lean back against the door and feel it seep into her, he was already undressing, his shirt off and folded neatly over the back of the rickety chair, boots side by side underneath and hands slipping down his hips to take soft brown with them, cotton over smooth lean thighs and Emmy just stood and stared. Jesus, he was beautiful and completely unconscious of it all, well 'no maybe not' she thought, not quite unconscious of it all, he knew what he did to women, but just Jamie McGuire, take it or leave it. All the same he looked a little surprised that she was still in her regulation uniform.

Naked now and feeling the chill of the night he stepped over to where she stood by the door “Emmy, are you alright? Christ I seem to be saying that a lot. Is that I left yer in the pub? Only well Pat had me arm and then there was Paddy and Michael to meet and...”

“No Jamie, it’s not that. I just feel like I am waiting to hit the ground, you know the feeling?

His eyes closed a little and slightly shivery arms came around her “Aye that I do, well will you do me the favour of letting me catch yer then?” She leaned back and let her eyes fall down his body before returning to his grin

“Ah…well you’d best not freeze to death first, jump in the water, I will be with you now, though from the size of that shower we might need to have years of yoga training to both squeeze inside” a hopeful wink from him and he slid open the juddering door and turned the dial. Reluctant at first, the steamy water was teased out into a trickle and then a sputtering stream and Emmy slowly undid the poppers of her uniform while she watched through gradually clouding glass that gave glimpses of his limbs and his body now shining with wet. His head back, water splashed over his face, and into his mouth, more of it running rivulets down his neck and his chest. His hands reached up, stretching his skin over muscle, to muss in his hair, in those curls that clung to his neck holding onto drips like they were liquid gold. Caressing his own body his hands moved back down, full of soft water to glide around his belly and his thighs, flashes of how that might feel took over as she watched him almost mesmerized, and a little full of trepidation she slid the door open to step inside.

As their skin touched, hers dry still and his warm and moist, Emmy swayed a bit, struggling for a moment to find her feet against this overwhelming passion, like everything was reduced to this, and why would it be otherwise? Tipping her head back she let him taste the water flowing over her lips and her tongue while her hands followed the water which sought the thin paths between their bodies. Her hands more insistent she explored the curve of his ass and the bones of his hips before slipping over his belly to find him, all smooth and satin and gorgeous in her palm. “Ah fuck…” Jamie leant back against the shower wall to let her, his eyes blinking back water to watch her move slow and rhythmic down his cock, his hips starting to press and his fingers circling her breasts in the steam. Well that was until her other hand glanced over his groin to pull him closer, a deep hard gasp of breath before he let out a cry and creased in two leaving Emmy standing bewildered and frowning

“Jesus...Jamie…” she was slipping downwards to catch his face as he bent double, his eyes screwed up in tearless agony, his own hand now pressed hard at the site that sent waves of angry shots of pain through his body. Hard spat words of hurt and reluctance spilled out “Its that bloody Joe…it is him” and Emmy, wide eyed and breathing hard, pulled him up as straight as she could manage, squeezing her fingers between his to stem the flow of what had been, his head on her shoulder as he shook, holding all of it in until the pain ebbed away in throbs of fire red. When at last he could unfold they stood still, different now, staring at each other in the mist of the cubicle but in truth on the other side of the world, some other time, and Emmy reached for soap slipping it into her hands as she closed her eyes and began to wash him, firm strong hands over his muscle and his skin, washing away dust and dirt and sweat and soot and blood “Joe…”

It didn’t matter if she opened her eyes now, she could still see him in flashes in front of her, dark and curls all mixed with fair and blue eyes, scorched hair and grime from the earth he had been dragged through and Emmy bit her lip hard. Her hands held his to wash away black powder and red pain, trailed over his chest to ease those tight ropes that had held him leaving deep cruel marks on young skin, and down to his legs where the streams of life had flowed into the ground, every stroke easing him back to her. He was speechless, mute in the face of her, letting her unite with her touch until she whispered “I tried to stop them Joe, tried to make them take you down from there…” just a quiet sadness as she ran gentle hands over limbs and skin and body that had been abused too much.

“I know you did Lass, I saw you”

Finally she returned her hands to that place, a soft pressure as she looked up at him, a lifetime of missing him waiting to spill out, and he swept her up, the water cascading through salt tears. Jamie held her tighter than he thought possible, she had come for him, this woman had come for him in Benalla, in amoungst the flashes of photographs, the jeers of the police and the stench and flies, she had come to find him, run to him on that fuckin’ door. In the lockup behind Ned was being nursed back to the Land of the Living to face the death sentence, in the courthouse a rapid fire inquest concluding Joe, the outlaw, was lawfully killed, and it was only half past two.

As they rocked in the water other memories rippled now of happy times together by the creek, peels of laughter and stolen sex and playfulness, surreptitious meetings when he would appear literally out of the big wide blue and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe, times when they only saw the shadow of dark in the ranges, dark days and weeks and months when not even Music could gallop fast nor far enough to get her outlaw lover to her bed

“I don’t know who I am Emmy…what about here and in this place, what about me Ma and me family?” his voice crackled with worry of it all, and at last she held his face in her hands, overcome herself with floods of visions and thoughts and questions but here right now

“Well I do! You are Jamie McGuire my friend and my…” alright so she wasn’t sure now what he was to her, the heady impact of her own past mixing with barely a week and her hands covered his chest again “but he was beautiful Jamie and he is here too, I don’t know that I understand it either but I think you should be proud of it, proud of him. Maybe he never got a chance, to say or do something” she swallowed more tears and looked right back at him with a determination “maybe he has something still to say and that’s why”. It was only just out of her, laid bare and exposed and incredible, when a loud rap came on the bathroom door

“Are yer trying to drain the Liffey in there now? Only it’s a long way down to the floor below and I could use a slash” If there was a thing to bring them back from the Bush it was probably a Dublin drunk needing a piss and Jamie, couldn’t quite stop the giggle as he turned off the shower

“Ah sure now we will be right out!” Hastily grabbing clothes and towels and boots and shoes they tumbled out of the bathroom and into the cold hallway, a flurry that the man would hardly recall in the morning and with a shiver of cold sheets they finally lay down, calm and quiet and breathing in