Daddy

He felt a sudden tug on his little patchwork quilt and instinctively sat bolt upright. A tall, slim shape was sitting on the edge of his bed. All he could make out in the dark was its long sandy brown hair that tumbled past its shoulders and its large hazel eyes, filled with silvery tears.

"Mummy," he whispered. "Do we have to go again?" The dark shape on his bed that Seamus knew as his mother nodded, more tears falling from her eyes.

"Come on," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly as more tears fell. "We need to move quickly tonight, understand my little shamrock?"

Seamus nodded and crept silently out of bed. He hugged his mother close, tears beginning to seep from his eyes. He loved and yet loathed it when his mother called him "her little shamrock." She only did it when she was either intensely pleased and proud of him, or when she was terrified for his safety. Despite only being six years old, Seamus could tell that this occasion was due to the latter event. He hated it when his mother was scared, because he was then scared too. He slipped underneath his bed and pulled out a small dark green suitcase. In it were all of his clothes and possessions. He was used to these "moves." He knew that his things must always be packed and ready, so that he could go as soon as his mother needed them to.

The two sneaked silently out of the bed-and-breakfast hotel. Seamus had not enjoyed staying there. Since their money supply was so low, it had been the cheapest they could find. As they hurried through the dark and silent corridors, Seamus could see the patches of mould and decay on the ceiling, and the wallpaper beginning to detach itself from the damp hotel walls. He swallowed nervously and clung tightly to his mother's hand as they ran out into the street. There a short woman with frizzy grey hair and a scared expression greeted them.

"Colleen, Seamus, in you get now," she whispered, indicating a black taxi waiting on the other side of the street. Seamus clung to his mother still more tightly as she led him across the quiet Irish street and into the back of the taxi. The grey haired woman sat in the back with them. She handed Seamus a red lollipop.

"Here pet, have some of that," she said kindly, holding it out to him. "It'll calm you down a bit."

Seamus leant against the taxi window and sucked his lollipop hard. He glanced at his mother. She was shaking, her slim pale hands trembling against the leather seats. He clutched at her again, his own little fingers shaking. He grasped his hand firmly and gave him a forced smile.

"You try and get some sleep now, baby," she said, her soft Irish accent calming him down slightly. "Everything's going to be fine." Seamus leant against the side of the cab and closed his eyes. He wasn't tired at all, despite the fact it was now two in the morning. He was beginning to get used to waking up suddenly throughout the night and being moved to the next location. He knew that he wouldn't fall asleep, particularly with the rocking of the cab as it swerved down narrow side roads. However he must do what his mother said. He loved his mother very much, and would do anything to make her happy. So he obediently shut his eyes and tried to look as though he were fast asleep. After a few minutes, he heard the lady with the grey hair begin to speak again.

"He found you then?" Seamus instinctively stiffened. He could feel his mother do the same.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Do you know how?" asked the grey haired woman, her voice also softening to a whisper. Seamus had heard this kind of conversation many, many times. He knew that the answer was almost always,

"No. They think it may have been the phone."

"He found your number again?"

"He must have done."

Seamus screwed up his eyes even more tightly. He wanted to block out their voices as well, but he could not do that without stuffing his fingers in his ears, and it would then be obvious he was wide awake. There was a silence, and then the grey haired woman began to speak again, her voice faster and quieter than it had previously been.

"But Colleen, you can't keep running like this, something's got to be done..."

"Nothing can be done," Colleen replied, her voice shaking once more as tears began to flow from her eyes once more. "The Muggle Police can't be told because then of course our wizarding secret would be let out, and the Ministry of Magic have already told me that they can't do anything when it involves Muggles."

"Why don't you go to a place where he can't find you? Like Diagon Alley?"

"I've considered it many times, but there's nowhere like that in Ireland, and I can't afford to take us both across to England."

"The Knight Bus?" suggested the grey haired woman. "Oh no wait, they don't go across water."

"Exactly," replied his mother. There was another silence.

"How old was Seamus when Daniel found out?" asked the woman.

"Only two. I didn't think Seamus would remember him, but he does. He remembers far more about him that I would have expected."

"So he's been running with you for, let me see, four years now?" asked the grey haired woman.

"Almost five. Seamus is seven on Tuesday." Seamus suddenly felt his stomach fill with lead. He had forgotten his birthday was next week. Unlike most children, he hated and dreaded his birthdays. They were the days when Daddy tried to find them. Not just by phone or letter, but by actually finding them. He didn't understand why.

"Do you think he'll come again?"

"I expect so," Seamus' mother was now openly crying, tears falling fast down her cheeks and her words coming out in choked sobs. "I'm sorry Di," she choked. "It's just... I only want to have a normal life, that's all. Just a chance for me and Seamus to live together in a small house without having to move every few days or weeks. I want Seamus to have a loving father, someone who'll listen to him and care for him. I want a husband who makes me feel safe and secure, not someone who is determined to do the opposite."

Seamus opened his eyes and hugged his mother tightly. She hugged him back, tears falling fast from both of their eyes.

"Is it my fault Mummy?" Seamus asked. "Am I the reason that Daddy went away?" Colleen only cried harder at this.

"No of course you're not," she sobbed. "You're my little Seamus shamrock and Daddy always, always loved you. Daddy went for... another reason."

"What was it?" asked Seamus, his tears beginning to dry up.

"I can't tell you yet, baby," replied his mother, rocking Seamus gently. "When you're a bit older, I promise I'll tell you."

"Was it because Daddy didn't like our clothes?" One thing Seamus always remembered was his mother and father wearing very different clothes. Normally they would wear the same sort of thing, but several times when they were going out Seamus had seen his father wearing dark trousers and jumpers and blazers, while his mother always wearing the most beautiful brightly-coloured robes that stretched down to her ankles. She had one that was bright violet, with a small logo on it saying IWNL. Seamus remembered his mother once saying to him that it stood for Irish Wizards National League, but that he must never, ever tell his father that. Whenever his father saw that robe, she would always cover the small black letters with a shamrock badge. His mother gave a shaky smile through her tears.

"Something like that. Now, you try and get some sleep." Seamus obediently closed his eyes and leaned against the cab window again, but doing this only brought forward an image from his mind. An image of a man, with dark brown sideburns and ice-cold sapphire-blue eyes. He was coming towards Seamus, holding out his arms, his face twisted into an evil sneer...

Seamus opened his eyes quickly and clung tightly to his mother.

"I don't want to go to sleep," he whispered, his voice muffled as he buried his head deep into the lining of her coat.

"Don't be daft," she whispered back, her voice still shaking slightly. "You've got to get some sleep now while you've got the chance. We may not get to sleep again for a while. So make the most of it." She stroked his sandy-brown curls gently and Seamus found himself closing his eyes. He knew instantly it was a mistake. The man's face was coming even closer now, pressing right up against Seamus' nose, and he was shouting something about "not being married to a witch." He was shouting all kinds of insults, not at Seamus, but at his mother, who Seamus could sense beside him, but he dare not turn his head to face her, in case he caught this man's attention. As the man continued to shout, he began to walk away from Seamus and towards his mother. In his hand was a metal pole. Seamus knew instantly that this man was going to hurt his mother. No longer caring about attracting attention, he screamed and screamed as the man tossed the pole with a satisfied smirk on his face. As the blow fell across his mother's face, Seamus fell to his knees, his face covered in silvery tears.

"Don't hurt her!" he screamed. "Please Daddy..."

"Daddy?" the man said spitefully, in a mock-child voice. He turned back to face Seamus. "You are no son of mine," he spat, his voice cold and heartless to match the penetrating glare in his eyes.

"And you are no kind of father to him," gasped his mother from beside him. Blood was flowing from her nose in a scarlet fountain and a deep purple bruise was already forming over her left eye. "Why are doing this, David? Why can't you just leave us alone?" she said in a deadly whisper.

"Because you tricked me, Colleen. We were married under false pretences. You gave birth to our child without telling me...without telling me..." He broke off, looking disgusted.

"You can say it, you know," she replied. Her voice was still shaking, but she seemed to have gained new courage. "You can say the word "witch" without bursting into flame or being damned to hell."

At the mention of the word "witch" he shuddered, as though she had mentioned a deadly and disgusting swear word. He grabbed the pole still more tightly and now advanced towards Seamus, but Seamus' mother was too quick.

"You won't touch my baby," she said, her voice shaking with both anger and fright. "You can do what you like to me David, but you won't touch a hair on this little one's head." Seamus felt himself being suddenly lifted into the air and being carried away, the shouts of,

"You can't run forever Colleen! I'll never let this go you know! Never!" ringing in his little ears.

"Seamus! Seamus sweetheart, wake up, we're at the station," he heard his mother say. He sat bolt upright and wiped his eyes. He could feel dried tears on his cheeks.

"You've been screaming your head off," remarked the grey-haired woman beside them. "Were you having a nightmare, sweetheart?" Seamus mumbled an indistinct reply. Yes, he had been having a nightmare. The same nightmare he would have almost every night. The same nightmare he had had for nearly five years now. His mother bundled him out of the taxi and together they made their way into the train station. Seamus looked fearfully into the face of every man that they saw, to make sure it wasn't him. He noticed that his mother appeared to be doing the same. As they both clambered onto the train and sat down on a pair of old, cotton-backed seats next to a dirty train window, Seamus gazed out into the black night. Rain was falling heavily against the window, making his view blurred, although the silent frightened tears falling from his eyes did not help. As the train began to move steadily out of the station and towards the Irish countryside, Seamus reached out for his mother. She hugged him close, both crying silently, allowing the salty, silky tears to splash freely past their pale cheeks and onto the carriage floor below them. All Seamus wanted was to stop running. All he wanted was his mother to be happy again. He had a father somewhere, but that wasn't enough. He wanted Daddy.