Parental stories

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"Shelagh?" Patrick asked hesitantly, Timothy was upstairs and Shelagh laying next to him, head lay in his lap, with his arm securely around her on the golden couch.

"Yes, Patrick?" Shelagh smiled up at him, gently Stroking the arm wrapped around her chest

"Can I ask you something, we'll personal?" he asked worried about her reaction

Shelagh's eyebrows furrowed, "Sure..."

Patrick took a deep breath, "Can I ask about your childhood, like your parents?" Shelagh's eyes dropped as she sat up, "I'm sorry, I should not have asked I-" he stopped when Shelagh snuggled closer to him.

Shelagh sighed. This was a topic she did not like to talk about. She thought about lying for a split second before realising she could never lie to Patrick. She took a breath.

"I will tell you if you promise not to interrupt till I am done, ok?" Patrick nodded.

"I can not really remember life till I was around seven, I was a fast learner and even then I was introverted. Around a month before my eighth birthday, my mother got sick, cancer. My mother and me were close, she was my help with homework my friend and my playmate. When she got sick, my father threw himself into his work so I had to look after my mum, when I was not at school. She died just after my tenth birthday. My Father had a lot of money, and when my mother died he gave up work and drank. He drank all day, every day. He also brought women from back street café's in and took them on the couch. I heard it all. I got even more shy and introverted, I had always been bullied for wearing glasses but it got worse when my mum died. I passed my eleven plus into Grammer school where we worked hard everyday except the last day before we broke up for Christmas, Mother's Day and Father's Day. We did art and what not on them days, but if your parents died or your family did not celebrate them, you got to sign up not to join in. I did it for Mother's Day, obviously and Father's Day because I could not deal with what he would do."

She paused and looked up at Patrick's face urging her to continue.

"My father turned to drink. He drunk all the time, except Sunday morning where he was hungover when I was at church and he would somehow remember to leave me out some money to last the week, and ever since my mum got ill I used as little money as possible so I could save to go to nursing school. When I came home from school, he would either ignor me or drag me over and be, innapropriate to me. When I was fifteen he decided to give me the talk by that time I knew I wanted to be a nurse and a midwife for about seven years so I already knew everything but he pulled his, you know, down and pulled me tight towards him and held me tightly and slurred things like It hurts when it happens, I should not be plusurable only to the men, and his favourite but no one will ever like you to do it to you."

Shelagh started to tear up

"I had quite a bit of money and I came down to London and you know what happened after."

Patrick looked at her and gently wiped the tears from her eyes and then caressed her cheek. "Oh my darling, I am sorry I asked!" He pulled her towards him and she cried softly into his jumper.

"Don't be. You would know at some point.!" She mumbled.

The two hugged each other all night till Patrick had to take her back to her boarding house.

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