Light the Candle at the Window

### Kildare The train from Dublin spills passengers onto the platform, welcomed home from far afield just in time for Christmas. There are taxis waiting and folks greeting their family in abundance. It’s a time of joy despite the clear irritations of some travellers, no thanks to transport delays and the icy chill of winter. A man with greying blood red hair waits on the platform, watching the passengers depart the train with curious green eyes.

The rush to exit the train was always madness. Everyone bumping into each other and all the starting and stopping. Waiting for the people in front to get their luggage and get out. They all had families to get to afterall. Mitch figured she should be used to it by now, living away in the city but no, it was still entirely overwhelming. She felt jittery and nervous as she waited for an opportunity to slip into the aisle, but the feeling wasn’t just because of the crowd. It was the first time she had brought home a companion for the holidays. She stands on her tiptoes to get her bags down from the overhead.

“Let me get tha- ow.” Robin reaches over her shoulder at precisely the wrong moment to help her gather her things. He snorts out a laugh as the bag hits him in the face. Great start. “You okay?” He asks, handing her her case. “Nervous?” He’s mostly asking to hide his own anxiety… but he’s not going to admit to that right now.

“Oop, I’m so sorry.” She says this with a little stifled laugh. Her nerves were more than evident, she felt like a coiled spring ready to go off at any moment. “I feel like I should be the one asking you that.” She says, taking her bag as it’s handed to her. Waiting for him to gather his own things. “You’re the one that’s going to get bombarded by the entire Fitch clan after all.”

“I’ve never been bombarded by a clan before. Sounds interesting.” He swings his rucksack over his shoulder. He doesn’t have much but it’s bloody heavy. “You sure they’re not going to ask me to get right back on the train and fuck off back to London?” He asks, following her to the door.

“Don’t worry, they’re going to love you.” Just like I do. She smiles back at him, reaching back to take his free hand in hers as they make their way agonizingly slowly towards the exit behind the line of people. She knew her dad was already out there waiting for them. Hopefully he shouldn’t be to hard to find. The two of them were fairly easy to spot in a crowd with their bright hair.

“Yeah you say that but we both know I have a very punchable face…” He muses, stepping back to let a woman and two young kids off the train before him. He hops down onto the platform, his breath immediately chilling before his face. “Bloody hell that’s cold.” Everywhere is cold in winter compared to central London.

The crowd is starting to thin. It’s typical of this family to always bring up the rear. Soon enough he spots that flash of familiar crimson hair and waves an arm in her direction.

“They only start throwing punches when they’re drunk though, so you should be okay… for a short time.” She teases, laughing as she steps off the train. The Irish winter was harsh and unforgiving, sinking straight to the bone. She shivers a moment before looking around, spotting the motion of the wave and the shock of red hair. “Da!” She calls excitedly, immediately running for him. As is tradition every time they reunite she drops her bag as she gets close and launches her small frame at him to give her dad an all encompassing hug.

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Alvilda (Tav: Helaena+)

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“Wha- oof!” She’s dropped her bag on Rob’s foot.

“Heya Midge!” He laughs. There’s nothing quite like the joy of seeing your kids again after a time apart. He wraps her in a hug. “Ah look at ya there, it’s been far too long.” He says, giving her an appraising pat on the back. “I arranged the weather for ya, s’it cold enough?”

“It’s fecking freezin, innit.” She says with a laugh, her breath fogging in front of her face. She holds the hug a moment, she had missed her dad’s hugs. They were always so warm. After a moment she steps back, looking up at him with a big grin. Well, moment of truth. “Da,” She goes to pick up her bag, putting her hand on Robins arm and giving him a little nudge of encouragement. “This is Robin.”

“Sure I like to keep you on your toes, don’t want you getting too comfy.” He knew she was bringing company. They had talked about it, multiple times. It was nerve wracking, to be quite honest. “Robin, nice to meet ya.” He smiles his best, most welcoming smile. “That’s a handsome moustache you’ve got on you there, did you grow that old fella yourself?”

Oh. Okay the whole family are weird. That’s good to know… certainly less worrying. “Yeah-… yes sir I did, concentrated really hard for two days.” He laughs a little nervously and shakes the man’s outstretched hand. He knew that hand could easily weild a scalpel, likely to lethal effect. No pressure, sure…

“Come on then the both of you, let’s go get in the car.” Fitch gives Rob a supportive pat on the shoulder, before reaching to carry Mitch’s bag. “So how’s the residency working out for ya at St Guys?” He slips into the medical talk.

She watches them meet with a wide smile splitting her face. These were the two most important men in her life right now, it was imperative that they get along. “Oh, it’s so good. I love it there.” She says when he asks about her residency. She lets him take her bag and slips her hand into Robins to intertwine their fingers as they began the journey to the car. “I’ve learned a lot from Dr. Massaro, she’s great. Almost makes me want to stay in general surgery.” She says with a little chuckle.

He feels a small twinge of nervousness and a slight pang of regret as Fitch takes Mitch’s bag. He should have taken Mitch’s bag. Fucking hell he’s basically the worst man in the world.

“Helen Massaro? Ah she’s lovely. General surgery isn’t so bad… probably.” He doesn’t like it, but then again he wouldn’t as a cardiothoracic surgeon.

“It’s not that bad. There’s worse residencies I could be doing while waiting for a cardiac spot to open up. Imagine having to do ortho, ugh.”

“Well yeah if you’re basically into sawing things in half…” Ah it’s fun to gossip. “Are you in medicine as well, so?” He looks across at Rob.

“I a… uh. No. Actually. I’m currently working in um…” He winces. “… admin.”

She gives his hand a little squeeze. As much as she tried to tell him she didn’t care what his job was, it still seemed like it bothered him to say it out loud. “Nah, that would be real boring if we were both in medicine wouldn’t it.”

“Yeah we got enough doctors in this family now your brother’s joining the ranks.” Fitch rolls his eyes. “What sort of admin do you do?”

Oh fucks sake. “Just… bit of legal filing.” It’s helpful not to mention to your girlfriend’s dad that you’re on parole for various armed robberies. It’s good of his parole officer to allow him work at Scotland Yard and hey, when the whole legal case with his dad is over maybe there’s a career in it. But not any time soon. He’s stuck photocopying for the foreseeable future.

“He does case filing for the police at The Yard. It’s pretty cool.” She says, giving him a nudge with her shoulder and smiling up at him. Hell she would still love him if he was a janitor, it didn’t matter what he did.

“Ah come on now and you said it was just filing that sounds pretty good to me, Robin.” Harry Fitch is ever the optimist. A joyful man, happy to find the bright side of everything. And who the hell cares what a man does for money so long as he’s a good person? He leads to the car which, of course, is a near clapped out old Land Rover. He could have brought the family car, a nice clean and comfortable saloon, but this was more fun. There’s an old golden labrador and a sleeping border terrier sleeping in a heap in the back footwell, and they sit up curiously as they approach.

This at least sparks Robin’s attention. “Hello!” He coos at the dogs as the car door opens. He’s immediately reaching out to pet them, scratching at the terrier’s coarse coat and ruffling the labrador’s head so his wide ears flap amusingly. “Awwwh aren’t you handsome lads. Aren’tcha? Ey? Oh you’re gorgeous…” He helps Fitch get the bags into the back before climbing into the back seat alongside the hounds. There’s no place he’d rather be.

“Awww, hey Val. There’s the goodest boy.” She smiles, turning around in the passenger seat as she slides into to. Reaching back to scratch at the old labradors head as he panted excitedly. If there was one thing she missed about home when moving to the city it was having a pet around. Not that she had time really to take care of anything, hell she was lucky to even be able to get a boyfriend. That had honestly been a miracle in and of itself, even more so that he put up with her packed schedule.

Everything is a bit clunky in the car, that speaks of old fashioned engineering. In Rob’s life it had always been evident that people who were financially comfortable tended to buy old expensive things, even if they seemed a bit shit on the outside, because the quality lasted. On his father’s estate all the groundsmen had been furnished with such vehicles. This all felt considerably more muddy and less for show than the family estate had ever been.

“Have you been over to Ireland before Rob?” Fitch asks as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Uh… no, actually. Been to lots of other places but never made it here.” He confesses.

“Ah we best make it a warm welcome for you then. ‘Course as a guest he’ll have to sleep out in the barn Mitch, you did tell your fella that in advance right?”

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Alvilda (Tav: Helaena+)

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“Oh yeah, we’re a good catholic household you see. So that means we can’t sleep in the same house.” She says with an apologetic smile to the man in the back before turning forward to buckle up her seatbelt.

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Alvilda (Tav: Helaena+)

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“Oh don’t worry I’m at home in a barn.” He returns with a grin. “Just me and the cows eh?”

“Ah no, we don’t have cows… it’ll be you and the goose.”

“oh fuck that.” He says instinctively, before he can stop himself. “Shit sorry. Language.”

“Fuck isn’t bad language is it? Is it?” He looks at Mitch for help. The bloody English and their fear of language.

“Darling you’re in Ireland now. There’s no such thing as bad language. Trust me you’re gonna hear a whole lot worse when the rest of the family get here.”

“I was trying to be polite but… alright fuck it.”

“Ah there ya go, you’re going native now.” Fitch chuckles merrily as they leave Kildare, winding over heathland out into the barren Irish country winter.

“It’s more impolite to not curse here.” She chuckles, settling in to the seat. She reaches a hand back between the seats, waving her fingers expectantly. Robin was entirely to far away, even though he was literally less than three feet from her.

He takes her hand, and almost inherently leans forward to kiss her knuckles. He doesn’t get there though. As he leans forward the eager little terrier jumps up to lick his face. “Augh- oh mate really?” He laughs, reeling back.

“Oh yeah you gotta watch that one.” She laughs brightly hearing the fuss from the backseat. “He’s a wiley one, will take any opportunity to go right for the face.”

“Who’s that? Did Milo getcha?” Fitch chuckles. “He’s a softie don’t you worry about him.”

“Oh, no he’s fine, I’m not worried. Just damp.” He laughs as he runs a hand over his face.

It’s a pleasant drive out into the fields and wilds. The Atlantic ocean approaches, grey and foreboding in the distance stretching to the cold horizon. Gulls wheel and call above. A very keen eye might spot grey seals basking on the rocks below steep slate cliffs. There are christmas lights strung around the edge of the roof and candles flickering in the windows.

-

The ride home was always pleasant. A beautiful scenic view the entire way there, the ocean becoming slowly more visible over the horizon. The wind off of it was cold and harsh but the stone house stood strong and held a welcoming warmth. She keeps a hold of Robins hand as they make their way up the winding little lane, through the farmlands and to the little house that sat over the cliffs. Her thumb running in comforting circles over the back of his hand that she held. She was thankful that her dad was the type of person who didn’t know a stranger, the ride was easy and passed quickly into the countryside. Mitch gives his hand a squeeze before letting it go as the car was parked up at its spot outside the cottage at the end of the lane. She steps out of the car and the wind immediately picked up her loose hair and blew it wildly around her face. She could already hear the sounds of raised voices beyond the door, accompanied by the sounds of barking alerting at the car. It was good to be home.

There are so many dogs. The grey ponies at the wall are scruffy and endearing. Even the cluck of the chickens seems to call home. Robin is no stranger to houses in the country but West Wycombe was rather far removed from this quaint little farm. For all its grandeur it was much less warm. Robin steps out of the car and the cold wind of the Atlantic steals his breath from his lungs in an instant. Bracing, one might call it.

The sea air has no effect on the Fitches, it seems. Entirely used to the westward gusts, Fitch corrals about seven mismatched dogs with the promise of “pocket treaties” in order to clear a path to the front door.

She laughs, brushing her hair back from her face. “Don’t worry, you get used to it. But if not it’ll be a lot warmer inside.” She calls over the wind, her hand brushing over his arm as she passes to get into the boot of the car. Popping it open to get into and drag her bag out.

He goes to help her. He’s not getting tarred with the bad boyfriend brush twice, hell no. Not that he was the first time, except for in his own mind. It’s a blessedly short walk to the door and into a wide, warm and expansive living room decked out beautifully for christmas. “Oh this is gorgeous. It’s like something off a chocolate box.”

“I know right? Mam goes all out with decorating for Christmas.” She says with a little laugh, the warmth flooding over them as they stepped inside. The room was decorated everywhere you look. Lights and garlands and little reindeer statues and more lights. On the verge of being gaudy but somehow still tasteful and picturesque.

“I swear if you don’t shut up you will be the next thing I cook for dinner tomorrow.” Comes a softly French accented voice from around the corner. Emma Fitch appears, pale blonde hair piled into a messy bun atop of her head. She fusses at the dog a moment before coming around from the kitchen. “Oh Michelle, there’s my baby.” She coos, going to wrap her daughter a tight hug.

“Hey mam, I’ve missed you.” She smiles, lingering in the warm hug a moment before leaning back, letting her mother fuss over her a moment.

Emma’s gaze fall onto the man, sharp blue eyes looking him over as she smiles at him. She wasn’t much taller than her daughter, it was evident that one point she might have even had a similar figure but approaching fifty and having four children made her a bit fuller figured. They shared a lot of similar features, it was clear where Mitch got her looks from if not her coloring. “And you must be Robin, yes?”

He didn't know what he was expecting from Mitch's mother. Someone taller, maybe, someone with red hair. Somehow in his mind he had decided every single member of the Fitch family had to be obnoxiously ginger, and so the little blonde woman took him by surprise. She was considerably younger than he was expecting too, but it was in no way his place to comment on that. He didn't need to know. "Hi... yes, yeah I'm Rob, nice to meet you Mrs Fitch." He puts on his best, most endearing smile and offers a hand to shake.

“Oh please, call me Emma. Mrs. Fitch is my mother in law.” She says reaching to take his hand and give it a warm shake. “It is very nice to finally meet you. We have heard so much about you.”

“Oh god that’s daunting.” He hopes she thinks he’s joking, but he is genuinely terrified. He shakes her hand. “All good things I hope?”

“All good things, don’t you worry.” She confirms with a little laugh. “Now you both go on and put your things upstairs. Get out of those coats, do you like mulled wine Rob? I’ve made some in case you two needed warming up after the journey.”

“Mulled wine uh… yeah?” Why is he saying that he has never had mulled wine before ever in his life. Warming up? Is it hot wine? What is this? He looks at Mitch. “So let’s go drop our stuff off and come back yeah?”

“Yeah come on, I’ll show you my room.” She says, starting to walk around him but is stopped by Emma nudging her shoulder with her own as she passed.

“He is very handsome.” She says in a not so subtle conspirators whisper. A shit eating little grin on her face.

“Mam.” Mitch laughs, her tone sounding very much like a stroppy embarrassed teenager. She shakes her head and leads the way to the stairs and up to her old bedroom. It was still very much the same as when she had left for college, still had the same band posters on the walls that were painted a deep blue. The same tartan duvet. All of her pictures from growing up spread over walls and in picture frames on her old desk. There was a couple of storage containers stacked in the corner but otherwise it was just as it was left.

He waits until they’re up the stairs before he speaks again. “… your mum thinks I’m hot.” He says with a devious smirk. Her room is… pretty predictably hers, which is nice. All the band posters he would have imagined. The bed that looks deeply tempting after a day’s travel.

She snorts out a laugh, giving him a playful shove. “Shut up. I knew that would go right to your fucking head.” She takes her jacket off from her shoulders and looks around the space a moment. Perhaps she should have cleaned the place out the last time she was here. He didn’t need to see all her high school photos and the emo phase. Who let her think the raccoon strips were a good idea. “Sorry the beds a bit smaller than back at the flat but we should still both fit.”

“it’s alright, I don’t take up much room.” He grins. The photos are cute. Her teenage phase certainly seems a lot better than his, and the photos far less embarrassing with regard to how she was dressed and styled. “Hah… fancy dress.” He laughs, pointing at a particularly incriminating photograph.

“Which one?” She asks going over to look at the picture. “Oh yeah that was a good one, god I wanted to be a scene girl so bad.” “Wouldn’t be surprised if that’s still in the closet somewhere. If my sisters haven’t raided it.” She should really make an effort to go through her old things and send them off to charity shops and take her things off the walls so the family could use the room for something. She was twenty eight years old now after all. But there was something comforting and nostalgic knowing that it was all still here and waiting.

“I bet this room has been pretty much untouched since you left, right?” He echoes her thoughts aloud without knowing. It’s something he is minutely envious of, the certainty of comfort and security in a parental place of home. Of course his current digs were a home of sorts… West Wycombe he supposed had some fond childhood memories but this… this felt like what home was meant to be.

Fitch sneaks in downstairs and makes a beeline for his wife, one hand circling her waist as he leans over her shoulder to whisper into her ear. “What do ya think of the Londoner?” He asks with a conspiratorial grin. “I found out his job he’s a file monkey. And he’s a dog man.” As if anything Fitch says ever makes sense

“Yeah.” She says with a fond little laugh. “I think even if I did take all this stuff they still wouldn’t use it. It would still be Mitch’s room.” She leans back to look at him. “How are you feeling? Not too overwhelmed yet I hope.”

Em laughs, leaning into him. “He seems like he’s nice. What do you think?”

“Yeah seems like a good lad.” He can’t help himself… “I’m gonna get him white girl wasted before your brother shows up.”

“No, actually it’s just… nice. I used to dream of a home like this you know.” The irony isn’t lost on Corvid. The house he grew up in was nothing short of a palace, a grand country mansion that loads of people would no doubt covet.

“I would expect nothing less.” She chuckles. “And you’ll have plenty of time before he gets here tomorrow. They couldn’t make it in until Christmas Day.”

“Good.” she murmurs, stepping up to wrap her arms around his torso. “I hoped you would like it… and if you feel like you need to step away just let me know. All the aunts and uncles and grandparents and siblings, the house is gonna be real packed.”

“Oh I don’t have to go and feckin pick them up from the airport as well do I?” It’s a bitchy little moan but he likes to let himself be a pain in the ass sometimes. As a treat.

Being surrounded by people sounds nice. He used to be surrounded by… well. No one. “I can cope with a packed house trust me.” He wraps his arms around her in return. “i haven’t made too much of an arse of myself yet then?”

“Oh no.” She gives a derisive snort. “You know he’ll want to have his fancy car here. And JD will want to drool on it.”

“No not yet. But there’s still plenty of time. Just wait till my dad gets you drunk off your ass.” She laughs, giving said ass a little pat.

“Oh come on that’s the most dogshit rich prick behaviour, is that why they’re late? Are they driving through the eurotunnel?”

“Ah no no no. He won’t get me drunk.” He will. “I have a system.” That will not work.

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Alvilda (Tav: Helaena+)

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“We’re just lucky he didn’t decide to get a helicopter or something.” Emma laughs, knocking her hip against his. “Would you like some of this wine?”

“Oh babe.” She smiles. “You’re gonna be so drunk. Though I am a bit curious as to what this system of yours is that is apparently enough to counter an Irishman’s attempt at getting someone shitfaced.”

“Oh don’t even joke, if he tries to come over here in a helicopter I’m investing in a fecking anti aircraft rocket.” He grins lop sidedly. “Ah tell you what, a bit of wine sounds like it’ll make me less violently inclined. Let’s have a cup, quick before the kids come back down.”

“I’ve spent a lot of time with people who think they’re badass and show off by pouring expensive alcohol into you. I have my ways.” Unfortunately they are not Irish proof.

She laughs softly, ladling out a good portion of the mulled wine into a couple of glasses and handing one over to her husband. “Yes, let’s turn those violence inclined thoughts into more mischievous ones. Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“Ahhh, of course. Can’t wait to see this go down.” Mitch says with a chuckle. He was definitely gonna be white girl wasted.

“Awh come on I thought you liked my unpredictable violent side.” He has never so much has squashed a spider. “Merry Christmas love.”

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Alvilda (Tav: Helaena+)

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“So… I guess we should go back down before they think we’re up to-…” He pauses and frowns. “… wait are we on a sex ban while staying here is that something that happens at parents houses in real life?”

“No, I was kidding about this being a good catholic household.” She laughs, leaning back to look up at him with a grin. “We just have to be a bit quieter, is all.” She gives his ass a cheeky little squeeze before pulling away. “Anyway, let’s go get some of that wine.”

“Yeah for some reason the super religious propaganda wasn’t hitting because you are way too much of a pain in my ass.” He grins, turning around as she squeezes said ass to catch her wrist and pull her forwards. “Quick, kiss me first.” He says with a faux urgency and a healthy measure of dramatic overacting. “It may be our last chance.”

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Alvilda (Tav: Helaena+)

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She gasps, also with an amount of dramatics. “Oh, my love. How will I ever bear to be apart from you.” She couldn’t help but laugh as she reaches up to cup his face in her hands and press her lips to his.

“It can’t be done. Impossible. We shall never be parted so long as I have breath still left within my lu-“ It’s a good job she kissed him. Chances are he would continue monologuing. But Mitch cuts him off, and he’s grinning from ear to ear when they part. “… so drinks?”

She already laughing as they separate, she couldn’t help it. He always had the ability to make her laugh even in dark times. “You’re so full of shit.” She says between chuckles. “Come on let’s go get a drink.” She takes his hand and leads the way back the stairs, carefully making their way back down the stairs to the kitchen.

JD Has been asleep in his room since getting back from Dublin two days ago. The hardships of being a student. He shuffles out with a yawn, and grins crookedly at the backs going down the stairs. “Oi dickhead.” He grins, and launches a sock with expert precision at the back of his sister’s head.

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Alvilda (Tav: Helaena+)

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She turned around to give a proper hello to her little, but instead found a sock hitting her directly in the face. “AGH! Oh you little piece of SHITE.” She yells, wadding up the sock and throwing it back at him.

He laughs wickedly and ducks behind Robin. His sister having a boyfriend now was great. Extra human shield. “You fucking suck at throwing, oh my god.” He wheezes.

“Oh shit-“ he turns around halfway down the stairs and slaps a second sock out of JD’s hand, only moderately intentionally. “Ha!”

“HA!” She takes up the second sock that had fallen and attempts to smoosh it into her little brother’s face. If she had any plans on having some form of decorum in front of her boyfriend it had all unraveled now. What was it about being home with the siblings that immediately turned a person back into a child? “Go on, eat it. That’s all the Christmas dinner you deserve.”