Fire: Chapter Twenty-One

FAMILY SECRETS

Finally the day's shooting was wrapped and Shannon could once again get her hands on Michael. Not that she was looking forward to it, this time. He greeted her at the coffee truck with a huge grin and an apologetic look. "God, sorry it's so late, have you been waiting long? The Terries kept
arguing over the shot angle - we must have done the blasted take fifty times!" Michael smiled ruefully. "Be lucky if we make enough out of this
thing to buy cod & chips for everyone..." He gathered her into a warm hug, then pulled back and looked at her, a delighted twinkle in his eye. "I've told them!" he said, giddy as a schoolboy.

Shannon felt a griping in the pit of her stomach. She took a deep breath to keep her voice from rising to a tinny pitch. It was now or never. "Michael, I...." she began. He looked at her face, and his smile faded away.

"What? Shannon.... what's wrong? I told them, that's okay isn't it? I mean.... I want them to know, they're my best friends... I'm so proud of
you...of us..." he trailed off, uncertainly.

"It's not that," Shannon mumbled. "I'm glad you told them, they're your friends, and I hope...." she sighed dejectedly, "...I hope they could be my friends too."

Michael brightened. "Well of course they will! Is that all? Crikey, if they don't like you that's their bloody loss, I'll..."

Shannon interrupted him. "Oh, Michael that's not it!" she exclaimed, a little exasperated at his irrepressible cheerfulness. "I have to tell you
something.... something important... well, it's important to me anyway.... and you can't marry me until you know.... and when you find out...." Shannon hung her head and fiddled with her blouse. "...You might not want to marry me after all."

Michael stared at her, confused. He shook his head and gently raised her chin with his fingers. "Shannon.... listen to me. I confessed what to me,
was the worst sin in the world, to you and I was terrified that I was going to lose you over it. Jesus, we've talked about so much.... whatever it is, it can't possibly be so bad that I would stop loving you?"

Shannon looked up at his sweet, boyish face. Looking at him, you would never guess the intensity of passion he was capable of, nor the nature of the adventures he'd had. Looks were deceiving, and yet she knew without a doubt that he loved her, and that he was a kind, liberal, tolerant man. As to how far his tolerance extended, she was about to find out.

Sensing her reluctance, Michael took her very gently by the elbow and guided her over to his trailer. The sign on the window said "Michael Palin and Terry Jones". Sure enough, Terry was inside, scribbling furiously on a jotter.

"Out, Terry." ordered Michael, firmly.

"What?" Terry muttered, not quite hearing what Michael said.

"GET. OUT. NOW." Michael yelled dramatically into Terry's ear, who yelped and scrambled bodily out the trailer door, leaping down the three steps in one. Shannon jumped badly and then started to tremble. "Sorry... I'm sorry. Oh look, come on, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout."
Michael took Shannon in his arms and held her tight. She was shaking like a leaf and Michael noted with dismay that she was crying. "Oh God... no, no, I wasn't angry at you.... I'm not angry at you...Shannon please, I'm sorry.... sometimes I just... lose it, you know? People piss me off and get in my face and I get impatient and it's all very well being "the nice one" all the bloody time, but I'm a human being, not the bloody Pope!"

Shannon giggled in spite of herself. In a way, it was a relief to know he was just a real, ordinary man with faults and who could lose his temper like everyone else.

"That's better, come on now, I love you, remember? Now then, out with it, lass."

Shannon couldn't help but smile when Michael lapsed back into his native Yorkshire. It suited him somehow. She took a deep breath."Well, you said we talked about practically everything?"

Michael nodded sagely. "Yes, practically...?"

Shannon continued, knotting and unknotting her headscarf as she spoke. "There's one thing we never mentioned really, and that's um...that's
religion." She stared at her scarf as though it held the very secrets of the universe. Michael stroked his chin.

"Well that's no big deal.... at least, not to me... I'm what you call common-or-garden C of E, you know.... like most Englishmen I guess... brought up with it, forced to go to church school, know the Book of Common Prayer standing on my head but never go to church except on Christmas Eve.... I guess I'm a nominal Christian, it's not something I really give much thought to.... not sure that I could ever change though... but if you're something different, that's okay? I mean what is there, are you Catholic? That's almost the same as C of E anyway... are you Jewish? I know you're not Muslim, you'd be wearing long sleeves... um, Buddhist? Buddhism seems interesting, might not mind having a go at that one day..." Michael stopped talking, suddenly and acutely aware that he was, as usual, talking too much.

"Sorry....Jesus!" Michael raised his eyes to heaven in self-mockery and started to laugh. "I do go on, don't I?! What is your religion, love? It doesn't matter to me, honestly - if you want to get married in a registry office, or at Golders Green, or in the pub bathroom, I really don't care. "
He fixed her with his deep, hazel eyes. "I just want to marry you, that's all. I don't care how or where."

Shannon smiled in spite of herself. He was so adorable. Just wait, she thought. Wait until I drop this one into your lap. "Well," she began, nervously. "It's not really a religion so much as a spiritual path - and it's hereditary - that is, it's passed on through certain families of Celtic bloodlines, unchanged over the centuries..."

Michael shifted to the edge of his seat, hugging his elbows and leaning forward with an intensely interested look on his face. "Go on..." he said.

Shannon took a deep breath. There was nothing left to do but tell him, and she couldn't sugar-coat it. He was too smart for that. She owed him the bare truth. She looked him straight in the eyes and said, clear and plain so there was no mistake:

"Michael - I'm a witch."