Pawn Shop Blues

“Olivia!” a tiny voice cried as Olivia entered her Downpatrick home, only to be met with a pair of skinny arms and a full force wallop of seven-year-old eagerness.

“Einin,” she greeted her little sister happily, wrapping the little redhead up in her arms, and examining her freckle splattered face. Einin, the little sparkplug that she was, had milk in her hair, a bit of cereal still stuck to her lips – she’d just been so excited at her sister’s arrival that she couldn’t wait to hardly even finish chewing.

“You’re a mess,” Olivia stated, shaking her head while wiping off the cereal. “Who is feeding you cereal for dinner?”

“Carrig and Riordan,” Einin answered, her little voice sounding unbothered by the fact that someone had put the twins in charge – the terrible two as Olivia affectionately called them. That only caused her to shake her head more.

“Aoife is where?” Olivia questioned further.

“Out to dinner with a friend,” Einin answered innocently, taking strands of her sister’s hair and braiding them absently. “She’ll probably be back later.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. So like her older sister to disappear the minute she got to town, couldn’t be bothered to spend time with her family. Oh no, of course not. Aoife McGuiness was much too important for her family – there were people to be seen out and about. Or rather, people who would see her out and about. And Aoife was all about appearances.

“And Mum?” Olivia asked next, going down the checklist.

“Working,” a new voice chimed. Olivia lifted her gaze from little Einin to see Carrig standing in the doorway between the foyer and the kitchen, arms folded across his chest, which was sporting a jersey for Manchester United. Olivia nearly choked on her breath at the sight of it.

“What on Earth are you wearing?” she spat, horrified. “I’m not around for two weeks and you suddenly defect to United?”

Carrig simply smirked, tousling the same red hair that Einin herself sported. One more body appeared in the room, looking identical to Carrig aside from the Liverpool jersey he wore. Riordan, the sweeter of the terrible two, was glaring at his brother, a bit of milk also having dribbled where it shouldn’t have been – the Liverpool crest.

“Decided he rather fancied Chicharito, the bloody bomber,” Riordan accused, shoving at his brother.

Oh yeah, the sweeter of the two.

“Riordan!” Olivia gasped. “None of that language. Even if you might be right.”

Riordan snickered as Carrig began to protest, but Olivia waved it all away. “Boys! What are you doing feeding your sister cereal for dinner? She’s not going to get big and strong if she doesn’t get enough protein.”

“Aofie was supposed to help us but then she got a call to go out to dinner with one of her friends,” Carrig grumbled.

Olivia sighed. “Of course she did. And Mum is taking the late shift?”

The twins nodded.

“Alright,” Olivia stated, hoisting her bag over her shoulder and taking Einin by the hand. “Let’s get some proper food in you then. The match is going to be on soon, anyway.”

“But I don’t want to watch any of that Scouse rubbish!” Carrig pouted, causing a row between all of the older siblings as Einin followed Olivia around the kitchen, trying to get a word in edgewise. This was often how things went in her Downpatrick home – lots of loving bickering, eating, and Olivia cleaning up after her mother and sister’s messes.

Olivia’s family was not a simple one, and she could only place the blame on her mother’s inability to keep it in her pants when she was younger, bless the woman’s soul. She’d popped out Aoife, now aged twenty one, when she herself was twenty one. The relationship didn’t last the pregnancy. Olivia came three years later, fathered by an American artist she’d never once met. Finally, when Olivia was four, Aileen McGuiness was knocked up by Patrick Gallagher to produce Carrig and Riordan Gallagher. Shortly afterward, they were married. And he stuck around until two years after the birth of Einin Gallagher. Upon which he promptly left the family for some Scottish tart from the radio.

Olivia herself could hardly keep it all straight.

As crazy as it was, Olivia loved her family. Aileen worked long hours at two jobs to put food in the mouths of her three children left at home, and assist Olivia and Aoife whenever she could. Aoife worked as an aspiring actress-slash-model, of course, and was always the center of attention, which left Olivia to slip under the radar and do whatever she wanted for most of her childhood.

Carrig and Riordan, at fifteen, were the class clowns and did not mind bringing that persona home, narrating the football game obnoxiously as Einin continued to braid Olivia’s hair that night. And Einin, sweet little Einin, was made of everything sweet in the world – flowers and horses and pop bands like One Direction. Those were the biggest thing Einin and Olivia had in common.

“Can we go to the stables tomorrow?” Einin requested as Olivia tucked her in bed, Carrig and Riordan cleaning up the messes downstairs as to their elder sister’s orders. “We haven’t been in ages.”

“Of course,” Olivia replied with a smile, tucking a few stray strands of red hair behind her little sister’s ears. “We can go for a proper ride, I promise. Just as soon as I’m sure dear Aoife gets the twins to footie practice in the morning.”

“If she ever comes home,” Einin sighed forlornly before turning to turn out her bedside lamp. In the dark, Olivia smiled sadly at her little sister, giving her a hug before leaving the room.

The house was quiet at night, unusual for the large family that presided in it. Being one of five siblings often made Olivia feel lost in the shuffle, but at night when Einin was in bed, the twins were wrapped up in their video games, her mother working and Aoife doing God knows what, she felt like the queen of the castle.

They didn’t have much, but it was enough for Olivia. She never did need much, anyway.



In the morning, it was Olivia’s turn to braid Einin’s hair, tucking two thick French plaits behind her little sister’s ears. She’d missed her mother, who had a tendency of getting home late and getting up early just to make some extra money for the family. She could hear a racket downstairs – the front door opening and closing and the shrill voice of a woman shepherding the terrible two into their football unis.

“She’s home,” Einin stated, smoothing her braids in a very mature manner. Olivia listened to the shrill voice again. Indeed, Aoife was home. And she sounded hungover and crabby.

Wonderful.

“Nice of you to grace us with your presence,” Olivia flatly greeted her older sister, who was chasing her brothers around the kitchen in last night’s heels, a pair of large designer sunglasses covering her eyes.

Aoife turned to see her sisters in the doorway, long platinum blonde hair swinging as she went. Aoife McGuiness was heart-stoppingly beautiful, the belle of every ball she ever attended. Her legs were long and lean, stomach flat as a board, chest full and lips supple – even her eyes commanded attention, green as a bud and wider than the sky. Olivia couldn’t help but feel like a pile of rubbish next to her.

“Oh, Livvy,” she greeted, crossing the room in a few swift steps to wrap Olivia in a hug. “It’s so good to see you, too. I wish we had more time to catch up, I don’t know when I’ll be seeing you next.”

Olivia glanced at her sister, confused. “What do you mean? Where are you going now?”

“Taking the boys to footie,” Aoife explained, quickly running to a cabinet to grab a couple of oatmeal bars to half-assedly feed the twins on their way. “Mrs. O’Callaghan is bringing them home with Jameson afterward. And then I’m headed back to London for a shoot.”

“Lovely,” Olivia sighed.

“Can we go now?” Einin prodded, not amused with her older sister’s antics. She’d grown numb to the stardom, just as Olivia had. “I’m hungry.”

Olivia had promised she’d take Einin out for breakfast before they went to ride, and admittedly her stomach was rumbling too. “Yeah, of course,” Olivia replied before grabbing the keys to her car off the counter. “Make sure you get them there on time, Aoif. I’ll see you around.”

And before her sister could even reply, Einin and Olivia were out the door. Olivia fumed the entire way to breakfast at the bagel shop in town, furious at her sister. Spending time as a family was a monthly tradition – Olivia and Aoife always came home the first weekend of the month to see their siblings and help out their mother. Olivia came more frequently than that even, but Aoife again couldn’t be bothered. And apparently she couldn’t even be bothered to stay for that one weekend, either.

Suddenly, as they approached the shop, Einin broke from her narrative on horse care to release a sharp gasp, a squeal coming from her lips. And when Olivia raised her eyes to see what had caught Einin’s attention, she nearly gasped herself, all harsh feelings towards Aoife evaporating with the surprise.

“Olivia?” the familiar voice came from the doorway to the shop.

It was Niall Horan.

“You know him?” Einin squealed again, shoving at her sister before running across the car park without looking to embrace one of her idols.

“Look both ways, Einin!” Olivia cried before chasing after her sister without taking her own advice. Her heart was too busy pounding in her chest. There, right across the street, was her star-crossed crush, Niall Horan, all smiles and hugs for Einin in his plain white v-neck and matching Supras. Olivia could have fainted at the sight had she not heard Einin break into tears of joy.

“Who is this, now?” he asked, tucking some stray hairs behind the little girl’s ears. Olivia couldn’t say anything; her mouth was agape as Einin sobbed out an explanation of who she was to the blonde boy kneeling in front of her. She’d been too distracted by her family to even remember that she had nearly made a fool of herself in front of her pop-star crush.

“Well, you’re very beautiful Miss Einin,” he complimented the little girl, who nearly keeled over in response. “Just like your big sister.”

Olivia nearly keeled over then, herself.

“You didn’t text me back,” Niall chided Olivia teasingly, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. “I wanted to see you but ended up coming to visit a friend here instead when you never replied.”

“Funny how things work out,” Olivia mumbled, wiping at Einin’s cheeks to get the tears away. Einin protested, not wanting to be belittled in front of a member of One Direction.

“You can hang out with us now,” Einin offered brightly. “We’re going to go riding after we get breakfast.”

“Einin,” Olivia quipped in dissent. “I’m sure Niall’s very busy.”

“Actually, not so much,” Niall replied brightly, in that amazingly endearing way he seemed to carry with him. “I’d love to go out with you ladies. In fact, let me buy you breakfast.”

Olivia could have died right there.

She watched silently as he bought their bagels and offered to drive Einin in his car to the stables, marveling at how good he was with the little girl – he probably had lots of practice from all his young fans, but it still was such a turn on, as much as Olivia hated to admit it. He winked at her periodically as he listened to Einin excitedly babble on about her favorite One Direction songs, leading him by the hand to the stable.

“Watch, Niall!” she called once she was all gussied up in her gear, sat upon her horse, a Palomino named Star. She broke out into a canter around the ring, Niall and Olivia watching from the fence. Niall clapped wildly until Einin was out of range and turned around to leave the two alone, which caused a wild spark in Olivia’s heartbeat.

“I wanted to apologize for being a knackered idiot the other night,” he hummed lowly, sending chills up Olivia’s spine. “But you didn’t really give me the chance.”

“Lucky for me you turned up in Downpatrick, then,” Olivia replied nervously. “I really am sorry for disappearing like that. I just felt like I’d been a knackered idiot myself.”

Niall scoffed, nudging Olivia with his shoulder. “I’m just glad that fate somehow brought us together again,” he teased, leaning his elbows on the fence. “More soberly, for that matter.”

Olivia laughed softly. “We do have a tendency of only spending time together when we’ve had a few drinks.”

Niall turned to smile at her, teeth a-braced and eyes bright and beautiful as ever. Olivia could have swooned at the boy who couldn’t have been less her type. There was just something about Niall Horan that wouldn’t let her walk away.

“I think we should change that,” he suggested, giving a reassuring hoot for Einin’s benefit. “Starting with getting our arses on horses and out there with your sister. Don’t you think?”

Olivia fell into laughter at the thought of Niall on Aoife’s old horse, Supras stuffed into the stirrups. But at the same time, it made her heart race. “Yeah, I think that would be a great place to start.”

So ride they did.