بخش 02

Then what does Mrs Nugent say only please go away. Mrs Nugent’s cheeks were all wet and her voice was shaky. Look Mrs Nugent I said and I got down on all fours on the tarmac. I made sure to get a bit inside the hall in case she shut the door on me and then I stuck out my face and scrunched up my nose and made my eyes as small as I could then I gave a big grunt. Then I laughed. What do you think of that Mrs Nooge? The more I snorted the more I laughed. I really did think it was the best laugh ever especially when Philip appeared with his what’s going on here face on. Detective Inspector Philip Nooge of the Yard here!

At first Philip didn’t know what to do you don’t usually expect to come out of your kitchen and see a pig wearing a jacket and trousers crawling round your front step. Then what did Philip do only try to push me out of the hall. Ow, Philip I said, you’re getting your fingers in my eyes. I could hear his heart beating from where I was. Philip would push one way then I’d push the other. Then it’d all start again. Whatever way he turned didn’t he knock the wedding photo off the wall and crack down on the floor it with bits of glass all over the hall.

Now look at what you did, she said, blaming Philip whatever she was blaming him for. Sure he couldn’t help it if I was snorting around the place. Then he didn’t know what he was at he starts to pick it up and she shrieks mind the glass mind the glass you’ll cut yourself no I won’t he says you will she says and then Philip starts getting all excited standing there with a handful of broken bits of glass. I gave a snort. That’s pig language for watch yourself with the glass there Philip I said. Philip’s forehead was wet with sweat and his eyes were more sad than frightened now.

I think it was him looking at me with them sad eyes that made me get up and say that was a good laugh but I think its about time I was back at the farmyard what do you say Mrs Nugent? But she said nothing only stood there twisting a clothes peg and saying please stop this please! Right you be now Mrs Nooge I said and hopskipped down the lane, I’ll call back another day I said and I did.

And the reason I did that was because when I got to thinking about it back in the house I thought what am I worrying about Philip Nugent’s sad eyes for? I had probably imagined it, he might even have been putting it on. That old Philip Nugent, the trickster! So a couple of days later, back I went except this time I made sure they weren’t in. I waited until I saw the car heading off down the lane I knew they were going to visit Buttsy up the mountains.

In I went through the back window hello Francie welcome to Nugents! Oh hello there nobody I said.

Dant-a dan! It gives me great pleasure to be here standing on these black and white tiles in the scullery. Mrs Nugent polished everything till you could see your face in it. The kitchen table, the floor. You name it if you looked at it you were in it. You had to hand it to Mrs Nugent when it came to the polishing. Flies? Oh no, not in Mrs Nugents! It was a grand day outside. There were a few skittery bits of cloud lying about the sky but they didn’t care if they ever got anywhere. Ah this is the life I said I wonder have we any cheese or pickle. We certainly had – there it was in the brown jar in the fridge! And did it taste nice! It certainly did! Make no mistake – I would definitely be staying at Nugents Hotel on my next trip to town.

When I had finished my snack I went upstairs to see if I could find Philip’s room. No problem. Comics and a big sucker arrow lying on the bed, dunk went the arrow into the back of the door and dangled there. Then I opened the wardrobe and what did I find only Philip’s school uniform the one he wore at private school in England. There it was, the navy blue cap with the crest and the braided blazer with the silver buttons. There was a pair of grey trousers with a razor crease and black polished shoes could you see your face in them you certainly could. I thought to myself, this could be a good laugh and so I put it on. I looked at myself in the mirror. I say Frawncis would you be a sport and wun down to the tuck shop for meah pleath? I did a twirl and said abtholootely old boy. I say boy what is your name pleath? Oo, I said, my name ith Philip Nuahgent!

I waltzed around the landing singing one of the Emerald Gems to myself O the days of the Kerry Dances O the ring of the piper’s tune! and then into Mr and Mrs Nugent’s room. I lay on the bed and sighed. Then I heard Philip Nugent’s voice, all soft and calm. He said: You know what he’s doing here don’t you mother? He wants to be one of us. He wants his name to be Francis Nugent. That’s what he’s wanted all along! We know that – don’t we mother?

Mrs Nugent was standing over me. Yes, Philip, she said. I know that. I’ve known it for a long time.

Then slowly she unbuttoned her blouse and took out her breast.

Then she said: This is for you Francis.

She put her hand behind my head and firmly pressed my face forward. Philip was still at the bottom of the bed smiling. I cried out: Ma! It’s not true! Mrs Nugent shook her head and said: I’m sorry Francis its too late for all that now. You should have thought of that when you made up your mind to come and live with us!

I thought I was going to choke on the fat, lukewarm flesh.

No!

I drew out and tried to catch Nugent on the side of the face.

I heeled over the dressing table and the mirror broke into pieces. Mrs Nugent stumbled backwards with her breast hanging. Now Philip I said and laughed. Philip had changed his tune now he was back to please Francie. I said: Are you talking to me Mr Pig?

When he didn’t answer I said: Did you not hear me Philip Pig? Hmm?

He was twisting his fingers and so was his mother.

Or maybe you didn’t know you were a pig. Is that it? Well then, I’ll have to teach you. I’ll make sure you won’t forget again in a hurry. You too Mrs Nugent! Come on now! Come on now come on now and none of your nonsense. That was a good laugh, I said it just like the master in the school. Right today we are going to do pigs. I want you all to stick out your faces and scrunch up your noses just like snouts. That’s very good Philip. I found a lipstick in one of the drawers and I wrote in big letters across the wallpaper PHILIP IS A PIG. Now, I said, isn’t that good? Yes Francie said Philip. And now you Mrs Nugent. I don’t think you’re putting enough effort into it. Down you get now and no slacking. So Mrs Nugent got down and she looked every inch the best pig in the farmyard with the pink rump cocked in the air. Mrs Nugent, I said, astonished, that is absolutely wonderful! Thank you Francie said Mrs Nugent. So that was the pig school. What do pigs do? They eat pig nuts said Philip. Yes that’s very good I said but what else do they do? They run around the farmyard Philip said. Yes indeed they do but what else? I tossed the lipstick up and down in my hand. Any takers at the back? Yes Mrs Nugent? They give us rashers! Yes that’s very true but its not the answer I’m looking for. I waited for a long time but I could see the answer wasn’t going to come. No, I said, the answer I’m looking for is – they do poo! Yes, pigs are forever doing poo all over the farmyard, they have the poor farmer’s heart broken. So then, who’s going to be the best pig in the pig school and show us what we’re talking about then, hmm? Come on now, any takers? Oh now surely you can do better than that! That’s very disappointing, nobody at all! Well I’m afraid I’ll just have to volunteer someone. Right come on up here Philip and show the class. That’s the boy. Good lad Philip. Watch carefully now everyone. Philip got red as a beetroot and twisted up his face as he went to work. Now, class! What would you call someone that does that? Not a boy at all – a pig! Say it everyone! Come on! Pig! Pig! Pig!

He went at it then for all he was worth and then there it sat proud as punch on the carpet of the bedroom, the best poo ever.

Well done, Philip, I cried, you did it! I clapped him on the back and we all stood round admiring it. It was like a rocket that had just made it back from space and we were waiting for a little brown astronaut to open a door in the side and step out waving. Now its time for Mrs Nugent to show us how well she can perform. Can she do poo as well as her son Philip? We’ll soon find out! Are you ready Mrs Nugent? I was waiting for her to say yes Francis indeed I am then away she’d go hoisting up her nightdress and scrunching up her red face trying to beat Philip but I’m afraid that wasn’t what happened at all.

Mrs Nugent was there all right but she wasn’t in her nightdress. She was wearing her day clothes and carrying a bag of stuff she had brought back from Buttsy’s.

Her mouth was hanging open and she was crying again pointing to the broken mirror and the writing on the blackboard I mean wall. I looked at Philip he was white as a ghost too what was wrong with him now, hadn’t he got the prize for the pig poo what more did he want? But Mr Nugent said he was in charge now. I’ll deal with this!, he said in his Maltan Ready Rubbed voice.

When the silent films are over sometimes this hand comes out of nowhere and hangs up a sign with the end on it. That’s what it was like when we were driving away in the car. The Nooges’ house standing there and the hand hanging up the sign on the doorknob as phut phut off we went.

So that was the end of Nugents, for the time being anyway.

The sergeant reminded me of the clown in Duffy’s circus not the way he looked but when he talked. Especially when he was telling you all the terrible things were going to happen to you now. H’ho! he’d say. And H’haw! Just the same as Sausage the clown. H’ho yewer an awfill man altogedder, Sausage’d say and away off round the ring with his stripey legs flying. Him and the sergeant must have been born in the same town or something.

A man made of bubbles in charge of a school for bad boys it was hard to believe but it was true for there he was at the window his big bubble head. Sausage says: Well I’ll be off so. He looked over at me: I’ll be keeping tabs on you, he says.

Yes, Sergeant, I said.

He backed off slowly as if I was going to pull out a revolver blam blam him and Bubble one in the head apiece but I wasn’t then brrm brrm phut phut and h’ho that was the end of him.

Now, says Bubble stroking his chin and staring right at me. What do you make of your new home, Mr Brady?

Its grand says I, good enough for pigs.

What did you say?, says Bubble. He gave my jumper a chuck.

You’ll find no pigs here!, he says. But he could say what he liked I knew well it was a school for pigs.

The Incredible School for Pigs!, I said in my telly voice.

I said all sorts of things to get him to do it. I stuck my face right up to his and scrunched it up into a snout. I snorted. Go on, I said and I stuck my chin out. But instead of laying into me he backed off and just looked at me with the screwdriver eyes. He wasn’t afraid or anything. He was just looking and taking it all in so then I stopped. Are you quite finished now he said and I said I was. I was exhausted and I had a headache. There was a gaping hole in my stomach for I knew Joe would have heard all about Nugents by now. I had let him down. I wouldn’t blame him for not writing to me, why should he after what I’d done on him? I broke my promise and that was that.

That old Joe. I didn’t know what to do when the letter came. I told everyone about it. All they said was: Huh? but I didn’t care. I was speechless. But one thing was for sure. I wasn’t going to be getting in trouble ever again. From now on I would be studying for the Francie Brady Not a Bad Bastard Any More Diploma so I could get out of the school for pigs and bogmen. Me and Joe would ride out to the river and there we’d stay. Dear Frantie you eejit what are you doing. I told you about Mrs Nugent but you wouldn’t listen what were you doing in their house? Were you trying to burn it down there’s all sorts of stories Francie. I asked Philip but he won’t tell me. Philip is OK Francie if you ever touch him again you’ll put yourself in trouble bad trouble. He really is OK. He doesn’t want any trouble with anyone. He told me. We shouldn’t have robbed the comics Francie it was wrong. There’s a carnival here now it stays open till twelve. You can win all sorts of things. Bears, anything. Did you ever see Laramie Shoot-Out? You aim the rifle and up comes the sherriff. He’s made of cardboard. He draws first but if you hit him you get five more goes. We were round there last Saturday. The rifle range – its brilliant! Philip Nugent got two bullseyes so he won a goldfish. He gave it to me because they have one already. I put it in the window. We’re going round again next weekend. If I win anything I will send it on. Philip says he has a special plan to work on the slot machines so I might. Write soon Joe.

I kept thinking about the goldfish. What did Philip Nugent think he was doing? I just couldn’t believe it. He was nothing to do with us. I wished I could get the goldfish back off Joe. But what did Joe take it for? Why didn’t he say: Sorry Philip you’re nothing to do with us.

Then it came to me: he was only doing it to make peace between us all so that there would be no trouble and when I came home me and Joe would just carry on the way we always had. I just hoped that Philip Nugent didn’t think he was going to be hanging round with us just because Joe took a goldfish off him. Because if he did he was going to be sorely disappointed. Me and Joe had things to do. Tracking in the mountains, huts to build. If Philip Nugent wanted to pray to the Manitou he would have to form his own blood brother gang. But what about the goldfish? What did he have to take it for?

It was around that time I started the long walks and the holy voices. Bubble says to me what are you doing going on all these long walks down to the low field by yourself?

I told him I thought Our Lady was talking to me. I read that in a book about this holy Italian boy. He was out in a field looking after the sheep next thing what does he hear only this soft voice coming out of nowhere you are my chosen messenger the world is going to end and all this. One minute he’s an Italian bogman with nothing on him only one of his father’s coats the next he’s a famous priest going round the world writing books and being carried around in a sedan chair saying the Queen of Angels chose me. Well I thought – you’ve had your turn Father Italian Sheep man so fu k off now about your business here comes Francie Brady hello Our Lady I said. Well Francie she says how’s things. Not so bad I said.

Lord be praised, said Bubble and I thought he was going to take off into heaven on the spot. I could feel his eyes on me as I floated down to the low field.

I told Father Sullivan all about it and he said I had unlocked something very precious.

The next day I got talking to a few more, St Joseph and the Angel Gabriel and a few others I don’t know the name of. The more the merrier. I went through Father Sullivan’s books and found out dozens of the fu kers. St Barnabas, St Philomena. We could have had six matches going at once in the low field there was that many.

It wasn’t very long after that that Father Tiddly arrived at the school. But of course that’s the joke for he had been there all along. Yes – Father Sullivan! We were in the sacristy and if there was one thing Father Sull loved to hear it was my stories of the saints in the low field. I was in the middle of one of these stories when I look up and what’s old Sull doing only smoothing my hair back from my eyes and stroking away at my forehead with his pale cold hand. Then he said please, tell me the story of St Teresa of the Roses again. So I did, all about the petals falling out of the sky and the perfume. When I told the story sweatbeads as big as berries popped out on his forehead and when it was over he started muttering and fumbling around the place going this way and going that way and going nowhere at the same time. It wasn’t until the third or fourth time I told this story about the roses that he began the Tiddly Show. I thought it was a great laugh with all the prizes you could win out of it. Sit up here he said and slapped his knees. So up I went. What does Tiddly do then only take out his mickey and start rubbing it up and down and jogging me on his knee. Then his whole body vibrates and he bends away over I thought he was going to break off in two halves. But it didn’t happen like that lucky enough. Tiddly just crumpled up like a paper bag and lay there hiding his eyes and saying no. I read a book while I was waiting for him to come out. Once or twice I caught him peeping through the cage of his fingers but he was in again just as quick. Tiddly says dear God I’m sorry Francis. I said it was all right have you any fags? I just sat there with my mickey snoozing on my thigh smoking fags and reading about Matt and all the saints. Blessed Oliver Plunkett! Chopped in quarters! For fu k’s sake!

You’re my best little girl says Tiddly and went away off spluttering at his desk.

Da arrived one day bumbling up the avenue in his greatcoat like Al Capone. I knew by him that the sight of the place put the fear of God in him it reminded him of the Belfast school for pigs. He had a half-bottle of Jameson in the pocket of his coat. I could see the neck of it sticking out. His eyes wouldn’t settle in his head, they kept darting about. I knew it was the priests looking down at him. They were saying to him: Well Mr Pig, are you back again? I thought we got rid of you forty years ago!

There was a smell of wax polish in the reception room, and a big oaken table with short fat legs like a wooden elephant. Bubble arrived, he stood beside me smiling with his soft hands crossed over his stomach and looked down at me with that stupid face he put on when parents or policemen or anyone came round. It was half-priest, half-cow. O he’s coming along grand he said even though nobody asked him. All da was worried about was he’d be caught red handed with the whiskey and get kicked out into the laurel bushes and told never to come back. Bubble said you know Mr Brady I’ve seen them come and go and then he was away off again. I stood at the window and watched the bony arse brigade circling the walk. Then I heard the door click shut softly the way it did the night Alo left and the room seemed to swell to three times its normal size. Da was at the whiskey. It didn’t seem to even matter now if there was anyone else in the room or not. He was following the trail of his own words as if he had no idea where it would take him, pausing only every so often to swig the whiskey out of the bottle. There was a coach trip all those years ago, to the seaside town of Bundoran in County Donegal. The war was over and everybody was happy. Every time the bus went down a hill they cheered and clapped and sang. She had fallen against his shoulder by accident. Oh dear God!, they shouted, would you look at this!

A camera clicked. We’re the talk of the place!, ma cried but what did da do only put his arm around her.

They held hands along the strand and they talked about the brass band he’d started in the town and a book he was reading. There was no row that day no whiskey, nothing. Three times after that they met in the same town, strolling through the dappled bedlam of the carnival to a boarding house called Over The Waves where there was music in the evenings. He was asked to sing and was she proud when he closed his eyes and gave his rendition of I dreamt that I dwelt in Marble Halls. They all knew us there, he said. Below the bedroom window the hush of the sea and ma I could see her lying there on the bed with him but it was a different woman, it was the ghost of what could have been ma. And afterwards on the esplanade he held her in his arms and said to her are you prepared to live on potatoes and salt for the rest of your days and what did ma do she tossed back her wavy hair and laughed is that all you can offer a good-looking girl like me Benny Brady? Shut up I said, shut up about it, something rose in me and I wanted it over. I got down on my knees like he used to when he rolled home after a skite with his clenched fist up and one eye closed may the curse of Christ light on you this night you bitch the day I took you out of that hole of a shop in Derry was a bitter one for me. He said no son should say the like of that to his own father. I said you have no son you put ma in a mental home. Maybe I’m better off then to have no son how could you call yourself a son after what you did. After what I did what did I do I had him by the lapel and I knew by his eyes he was afraid of me whatever way I was looking at him. What did I do? It was hard for him to say it, I could barely hear him I loved you like no father ever loved a son Francie that was what he said it would have been better if he drew out to hit me I just let go of his lapel and stood there with my back to him fu k off I said fu k off and I knew I’d been alone for a long time when I heard Bubble’s soft lisp well Francis wasn’t that a nice surprise?

Tiddly said wouldn’t it be lovely if we could get married. I said it would be great. I could buy you flowers and chocolates and you could have dinner ready when I come home he says. Ha ha I laughed, like a girl, and did Tiddly like that! Little Miss Snowdrop, I said, Queen of All The Beautiful things in the world!, and that nearly drove him astray in the head altogether. The sweat hopped off him. Flip, in went the Rolos.

Sit up here now, he says and took me on his knee. O he says you’re a picture. Ha ha I says the way he liked it and he says you’ll never guess what I got for you.

I stuck my finger in my mouth and rolled my eyes mischievously.

Guess, he says. Go on, guess.

Sweets, I said.

No, its not sweets.

A book, I said, its a book.

No, he said, its not a book.

I tried all sorts of things but it was none of them.

It was a woman’s bonnet with a long white ribbon dangling down.

I felt like laughing my arse off but poor old Tiddly wouldn’t have liked that biting away at the skin of his mouth oh Francis.

What do you think says I putting it on and doing a twirl for him in front of the mirror. I went spinning round the room and Tiddly got so weak he had to steady himself against the arm of the chair.

Oo do you think – ah I’m beautiful – ah!, I says.

His bottom lip was trembling. Sit up here now I says so up I went. He puts his arm around me you’ve no idea how much I love you Francis he says in the nights I even dream about you. I want to know everything about you. Ten Rolos, says I. Tell me all about yourself. I’ll bet you live in a nice house do you? Do you live in a nice house?

He gave me a big uncle smile and that was the first time I thought to myself: I don’t like you any more Tiddly.

He chucked at the ribbon of the bonnet and crinkled up his eyes. Go on, he says you can tell me. I was going to tell him nothing but he kept at it go on go on and all this. I told him we had black and white tiles in the scullery and a twenty three inch television but that wasn’t enough for him he still kept at it. The more he made me say things the redder my face was getting I had said so much now I could never go back and say that I wasn’t telling him about our house at all but Nugents I had to keep going if he had stopped then it might have been all right but he didn’t, he kept making me saying more and more. And that’s what Mrs Nugent wanted. Her breast was choking me again, lukewarm in my throat. I think I hit him first he fell back and I heard him shout Don’t hurt me Francie I love you!

Roast pig in the dark that was what I was when I awoke, they’d locked me in the boilerhouse.

The more I tried to get the goldfish out of my head the more it kept coming back.

One wet day I seen Tiddly climbing into a car and he was never seen again, probably away off to the garage to rub some bogman with his mickey good luck and good fu king riddance. Bubble called me up to his study he asked me a few questions about how I was getting on now. I said OK and yes and no to them all. He starts to tell me this story then about him going off to Dublin to visit his sister. He’s been working hard lately too hard if you ask me, he says with a watery laugh. His sister will look after him I said and sipped the tea. Sister, for fu k’s sake! Poor old Tiddly was probably climbing up the walls of the garage by now shouting I love you bogman! to some young farmer lad.

Bubble knew I was laughing but there wasn’t much he could do about it. If he said: Stop laughing, I’d only go and do it worse. I’d push him out of the way and shout out the window: Hey bogmen! Did youse hear about Father Tiddly the Rolo man!

That was what Bubble was afraid of. That everybody would hear. But he didn’t have to worry about that. As long as he left me alone and minded his own business I wouldn’t say anything about old Father Big-Mickey I mean Tiddly. Now he was gone I didn’t give a fu k. I just wanted to be left alone. I hope you’re happy here says Bubble. I said I am. Then I said: I’m going now.

After that the days were all the same, they just drizzled past, days without Joe without da without anything. I didn’t have to worry much about getting the Francie Brady Not a Bastard Any More Diploma anymore after the Tiddly business for I knew they were going to let me go the first chance they got I was like a fungus growing on the walls they wanted them washed clean again.

The day I left Bubble gripped my hand and said it did his heart good. If it did his heart good he wasn’t long about letting go of the hand.

House of a hundred windows, goodbye and good fu king riddance, I said.

I called straight down to Joe’s but he wasn’t there. Where is he, I said. Mr Purcell looked me up and down. I have no idea, he said and closed the door. I wondered what was eating him.

In the end I waited at the bottom of Church Hill and met Joe coming home from school. He was in the second year in secondary now.

I’m back Joe, I said, back from the house of a hundred windows. I laughed myself when I said that it just sounded funny saying it there walking round the road with Joe. I didn’t know where to start telling him about all these things. I told him it made no odds about the goldfish or any of that that was all in the past now. Then he looks at me and says: What goldfish? I hit him a thump on the shoulder. What goldfish! I says, for fu k’s sake Joe!

It was the first good laugh I had had in I don’t know how long. I asked Joe how things were out at the hide. He said he hadn’t been out there. Is it still covered over, I said. He said he wasn’t sure it was so long since he’d been out there. I said we’ll have to make sure its covered over. If the rain gets in it’ll ruin it. He said it would. When will we go out and check on it then I said, this evening? He said he couldn’t go out that evening. OK, I said tomorrow is fine. But he said he couldn’t go out then either so it had to be at the weekend. I had a pain in my stomach waiting for that weekend to come.

Joe made a wind at a gnat, lay back on the bank of the river and I told him more about it, everything I could think of. I told him about the gardener and the Black and Tans and the bogmen and their bony arses and being locked in the boilerhouse and talking to the saints and St Teresa. It sure is some laugh said Joe, what did they lock you in the boilerhouse for? I says oh nothing just messing around, you know. That was all I was going to say but then he says it again but what did they lock you in the boilerhouse for? I wanted to stop talking about the whole thing. I wanted to talk about the hide and the old days and hacking at the ice and whose turn it was to toss the marble and all that, that was what I wanted to talk about. They were the best days. You could see through them days, clear as polished glass. But Joe didn’t want to. He kept going back to the other thing so in the end I told him and what does he say then he says Francie he didn’t really do that did he? I said what are you talking about Joe he did didn’t I just tell you?

The next thing I knew I was in a cold sweat because of the way Joe was looking at me. Then I said: I fairly fooled you there Joe. Tiddly! Imagine someone doing the like of that! Tiddly! Rolos – for fu k’s sake!

I laughed till the tears ran down my face. I fooled you, I cried out. I had a headache and my face was all flushed. Then Joe said it was time he was getting back he had extra homework to do for the weekend. I said OK, I would see him tomorrow and we’d go to the carnival. Sure, he said, I’ll try and I watched him running back into town.

Off I went down the fresh, crunchy lane. I stopped just outside the chickenhouse to see if the puddle was frozen over and sure enough it was. I felt warm all over when I seen that. There was hard twisty paper growing out of the white misted ice. I tried to dig it out with my toe but it wouldn’t come so I broke off a bit of a twig and hacked away at it. When I looked up there was this young lad standing there like something off a Christmas card with a big stripey scarf round his neck and a hat with tassels on it. What are you doing here Mister he says, that’s our puddle. Its your puddle? I says, Yes, he says, we’re in charge of it me and Brendy. OK, I says and handed him the stick I won’t touch it anymore. All right then mister he says, I won’t tell Brendy. All of a sudden I looked at him with his rosy cheeks and the two silver snots at his nose and what did I want to do I wanted to kiss him. Not the way Tiddly did it any of that but just because all of a sudden everything seemed so good. I said to myself: Just being here is so good I could stand here for ever.

Its your puddle now, I says to him but do you know who it used to belong to? He rubbed his face with a mitten and says no – who?

Me and Joe Purcell, I said.

Oh, he says, well youse don’t own it now and goes down on one knee and starts hacking away at the bit of paper.

I closed my eyes and breathed in it was like breathing in the whole cold fresh and crunchy town. I could hear the chickenhouse fan droning away steady as ever down in our lane behind the houses. One day Joe said to me: Its the best sound in the world, that fan. I said why. He said: Because you always know its there.

And he was right. If you weren’t thinking of it you wouldn’t hear it. But once you listened, it was always there humming away softly like a quiet machine that kept the town going.

The baker was unloading trays of bread steaming from his van. Grouse Armstrong was huddled in the library doorway and off goes the drunk across the Diamond singing into his beer bottle I wonder who’s kissing her now? Then he stops and starts into Grouse do you know me do you? Uh! Uh! Grouse just opened one eye for a second and then went back to sleep. You’re only a baaaastard! says your man and then tumbles away off round the Jubilee Road on rubber legs. I wasn’t expecting Roche so I got a bit of a shock when I looked up and seen him standing there staring at me. Who the fu k did he think he was – Count Dracula?

Ah hello there Doctor, I said, and how are things?

He didn’t say anything just looked and that was what I didn’t like about Roche the way he looked at you. He was saying: I know something about you. You knew by him he’d stand there for as long as he liked without saying a word.

I don’t know why the fu k I did it for he didn’t ask me anything but I started into telling him everything, driving to the school with the sergeant and what a laugh it was and then the bogmen and all that. I could feel his eyes all over me making notes. I went back over a few of the stories, the gardener and that, and then I said yes doctor its changed times now. The old days is all finished. I kept waiting for him to say I’m glad to hear that Francie or that’s great news, but he didn’t say anything. He just tapped the leather of his black bag and sucked his teeth saying mm. All of a sudden it came into my head what the hell do I care if he believes me or not who the fu k is he, doctor, some doctor, he couldn’t even keep ma out of the garage, could he? I didn’t care about him. He could say anything he liked. I’d tell him that – fu k him! You know nothing I said you know nothing about my ma, what the the fu k do you know about her she should never have gone near you it was you put her in there in the first place what the fu k would you know Roche what would you know about anything! I was wondering would he go so far as to make a wind at me after all that but when I looked up all I seen was the door of the hotel closing and him chatting away to the receptionist through the glass.

They said I had to stay at the primary school even if I was older than the rest. I didn’t know any of them. My class had gone on ahead to the secondary school along with Joe. I sat at the back and did nothing. No – that’s not true. I played Oxo and wrote Francis Brady was here with a penknife. The master says, you needn’t think you’ll try any of your tricks with me Brady! Leddy’s the man for you, that’s the only place you’ll ever be any good for!

Leddy was the butcher who owned the slaughterhouse. There was always jobs there for no one wanted to do it. To hell with Leddy and his pigs, I said. Its good enough for the likes of you da said lying about here morning noon and night! and went off mumbling to the Tower.

Sometimes I’d just lie there on the sofa until Joe got out of school. After a while you didn’t even notice the smell only if someone else mentioned it.

I always met Joe at the bottom of Church Hill. There was no more talk about the school for pigs or anything that went on there, that was all finished now and soon it would be all back the way it used to be. I got things for him, not comics he didn’t read them much anymore, fags or sweets maybe. I got the fags from behind the bar in the hotel I knew the barman went out to change the barrel at the same time every day. I got the sweets in Mary’s but I paid for them I’d never lift anything on her. Then we’d head off out to the river. I told him I could get him anything he wanted. We had some laughs out there. It was no different to the old days. It was just the same only better. Isn’t it Joe? I’d say. He said it was.

I kept at Joe to come tracking in the mountains. We’ll pray to the Manitou like we used to – it’ll be a good laugh I said. Oh come on Francie – for god’s sake! Joe said.

The Manitou, I said – yamma yamma yamma death to all dogs who enter here! For fu k’s sake Joe!

He laughed when I said that and then he said OK it was the best day yet you’d think Nugents or the school for pigs or Tiddly and all that had never happened. We spun stones across the lake and when I looked at Joe doing that I nearly wanted to cry the feeling I got was so good. Everything was so clear and glittering and polished I said to myself: Those days in the lane. We didn’t imagine them. They were just like this.

I was thinking that with my eyes closed when I heard Buttsy’s voice. He was standing in front of me with his thumbs hooked in his belt.

Devlin was chewing a match and carrying a fishing rod. Well well. If it isn’t our lucky day, says Buttsy. Devlin was rubbing away at the hands like he’d won the sweep. Buttsy looked at Joe.

I want no trouble with you, Purcell, he says. Its him we want, says Devlin. You’re going to be sorry now. You’re going to be sorry for what you done, Brady.

Who’s going to make me sorry I says. Buttsy got all pale when I said that.

Joe says: Don’t Francie. Don’t start any trouble.

We’ll make you sorry, says Devlin and took a swing at me. When I was ducking I twisted my ankle on a rock.

Then Buttsy drew a kick at me and knocked me to the ground.

Devlin says Come on! and got stuck in with his big farmer’s boots. Next thing Buttsy has the hunting knife out it was trembling away in his hand. You’ve had it now, Brady, said Devlin, we’ll gut you like a pig.

Devlin kicked me on the bad ankle. You fu king cunt, he says. When he said that I started to to cry.

Ha! says Buttsy, and he got all excited then. . .

Women, says Devlin, that’s all he’s able for, women, he can give it to the women all right but when it comes to you and me its a different story, eh Buttsy?

For fu k’s sake, would you look at him! Look at him now! There’s your buddy now Purcell. There’s your buddy from the Terrace!

Buttsy took out a fag and lit it.

Then he goes over to Joe and says to him: What are you doing hanging about with him? What does your old man say?

Then Joe said it: I’m not hanging around with him. I used to hang around with him!

All I could see was the lit fag going up to Buttsy’s mouth and his head nodding as he said something else to Joe. He was blowing out the smoke and tapping the ash then he ran his arm across his forehead and that gave me my chance bumph! he didn’t know what hit him. I don’t know how many times I clocked him with the rock if Devlin and Joe hadn’t managed to get me off I’d have finished him off it wouldn’t have cost me a thought he made Joe say it Joe wouldn’t have said it only he goaded him into it. I tried to get another kick at him but they pulled me back no no! Francie! Devlin says Francie its gone far enough he was scared shitless I was going to start into him but I didn’t give a fu k about Devlin I wanted to talk to Joe. I threw the rock over the ditch Joe I says what do you mean why did you say that?

The way Joe looked at me then I couldn’t think at first who it reminded me of then I knew, it was Doctor Roche, looking right through you. Joe, please, I said but he wouldn’t let me talk. I could feel my knees going and I had to drag the words up out of my stomach, please Joe!

But he still wouldn’t listen he was backing away with his palms pressing a glass wall, No Francie, not this time, not after this!

Devlin looked at me with the lip trembling: Please Francie! I just left him there please Francie and Buttsy crawling along the ground uh! uh! help me yeah sure.