What do you need to do Jacki?
To drink, work, protect, kiss, drink, hide, cuddle, run.
You said drink twice.
Did I?
Think one of them drinks could be forget?
Aye, forget.
Quentin lazily pointed her way to accentuate his next words.
Drink can do that, thing is, when it's worn off, you remember again...
They both looked over as Jack snored, the man sprawled out on the bench by the fire, an empty tankard precariously held onto by a finger and threatening to drop at any moment to the tiled floor, just ready to wake his round, sleeping mother who rested in a nearby rocking chair with her knitting laid over herself.
..unless you're my brother, permanently pickled I reckon, must have a memory full of holes like that cheese Ma gave us that time, remember it?
Jacki smiled a bit in recollection, at Alys insisting she take it back and get half their money back as half was missing on account of the holes. Then again Alys was younger then, just twelve, and really it made sense if you thought about it. The table was empty save a jug of water, a couple of beer bottles and two tankards. Quentin was on the water, Jacki had started on some beer but after getting a few matters off of her chest, felt she didn't want it, she wanted to be heard and by someone who didn't judge her, didn't have an agenda, and just simply cared, Quentin was a good listener.
I can't remember the taste of it. Didn't that milk maid and you have something going on not long ago?
The man shook his head, his golden hair flopping down over his eyes as he reached for a bottle, turning it in his large hands to read the label, not that there was much to read.
No, she had something going on with a few lads though, Jack too at some point. I'm fine as I am, here with you, the family. Ma and her sickness? I don't have time for lasses.
She's doing well, looks like she might be alright with everyone mucking in and all. Strong stock are the Dentons and a fierce fighter she be! Has to be.
Quentin gave her a boyish smile, one that would make any woman weak at the knees.
Listen to you, Little Jacki Blackburrow, voice of calm and reason. You'll be mayor next.
Keep telling me that and I'll believe it. I'm a blimming mess Quentin, you know it and I know it. Maybe me next profession will be a graveyard keeper, I'm good at digging holes for meself and I can bury meself at the same time.
It's not that bad Jaybird.
Blimming well is.
Jacks done worse.
That's Jack though. Power unto himself he be.
True. Very true.
I need a book Quentin, one to tell me what to do, what to say, when these things should happen and how. Instead I just close me eyes and hope for the best. I always end up, up to me neck in it all.
The tankard fell, metal hitting tile with a clatter, yet neither of the fireside occupants seemed to be woken from their slumber, though there was an incoherent mumble from the rotund woman, the only word picked out being "Rat"
Know what you need? Need to stop worrying. Do what's right for Jaybird, not your family, lads, friends, but you. Follow them instincts girl.
Do you?
The man suddenly laughed under his breath
Sometimes, should do it more.
Words can be easy I suppose, not always, some are blimming hard.
You're strong Jacki, like Ma. Bugger anyone and anything that gets in your way, proper force of nature, you just have to remember you are. Think you forgot.
All that beer maybe?
A small smile found her lips, another charming one then directed at her as the man said..
Aye but can't blame you really, your Pa makes a bloody good brew.
