19 November: Daily Excerpt

[jupitersings.livejournal.com]

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<b>Username:</b> <b>Any background information:</b> <b>Excerpt:</b>

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[fenrischained.livejournal.com]

Username: fenrischained/Jormandugr

Any background information: Pat is still in hospital after Bloody Sunday; his teacher, Father Bamford, has come to visit him.

Excerpt: “It was just a... parting of opinion.” Pat managed a smile, although the thought of his father’s face as he stormed out was still fresh and bitter in his mind. “With luck, he’ll understand once his mind’s cleared a little and he’s had the time to step back.” It was the closest to a lie he had come in a long time, close enough to be uncomfortable. He knew his father would never come around. Not Adam Pearson, who never changed his mind about anything.

In two days, he still hadn’t come back to visit.

But Pat had to keep on hoping. He had to hold on to the hope that his da might some day see the light. Otherwise, it would all get to be too much very quickly.

“God willing,” Father Bamford agreed, quietly, bringing Pat sharply back to reality.

Pat forced his smile back onto his face, thin and strained. “Well, He’s been good to me so far, wouldn’t you say, Father? I’m alive, and there’s plenty who aren’t. And I was stood right in the middle of the road, too. God kept me safe then, He’s still watching over us. I’m sure of it.”

Something unreadable flickered across Father Bamford’s face, pulling down for a moment on the corners of his mouth and drawing together his eyebrows, but it was brief and soon gone again. “Of course He is. No sparrow falls without His will and all that. It’s all a part of His plan, and who’s going to speak against that?”

“Father?” There was some timbre in Father Bamford’s voice which was unfamiliar to Pat, something brittle and taut.

“Never mind.” Father Bamford smiled faintly at him. “My point is, you’re right. God has been good to you, keeping you safe. But that doesn’t make it easy. Life isn’t easy, especially not around here. All I’m saying is, if you need somebody to talk to, my door is always open. All right?”

“All right.” Pat nodded, but that brittle note in Father Bamford’s voice, although it was gone, still seemed to resonate in him. It was almost frightening, in a way he didn’t entirely understand; it might have been fear or upset or even bitterness, but it seemed strange coming from a man always so constant and calm. “I, um. It must be weird at school, right? After everything.”