‘What would you do, say, if he was single?’
I tried to appear to be thinking it through, but I already knew the answer.
‘Nothing,’ lied. ‘I have David to consider now. Besides, I saw him smoking a joint last night, and it really turned me off.’ That part was true.
‘I don’t believe you,’ he said seriously.
I looked at him. I had detected something. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Was it jealousy? Never!
‘Why are you so concerned?’ I asked.
‘I wouldn’t like to see you get hurt,’ he responded in a rush.
My mother entered the room. ‘Look what I found.’ She held David upside down, and he chuckled.
‘Baby! You’re awake!’ I took him in my arms and kissed him.
‘God. What are you feeding that child?’ Joe exclaimed.
‘Soya milk.’
‘Soya milk?’
‘He’s thriving on it. Aren’t you, you little monster!’ I tickled him and he laughed. I passed him over to Joe. He was wonderful with children. A born natural. I could see clearly he would make a great father. My mother was cooing and gooing at them both. She loved to see David and Joe rolling around the floor together. I watched them, as they shouted and played hide and seek. David was a carbon copy of me, not at all like his father. I was so glad.
Joe was having a ball. He was a wonderful friend, but sometimes, like now, I wasn’t sure what to make of him. I was glad my mother had interrupted. I didn’t really want to continue the conversation, or have it go any further. Last night I had realised many things. Firstly, I had to get a job. Secondly, I had to start losing some weight. Thirdly, I was badly in need of some sex.
That afternoon, I took David for a walk in St Anne’s Park, my favourite place. The weather was warm and sunny and I enjoyed the stroll and the chance to get out of the house. As I kept him occupied on the baby swings in the playground, I watched as other ‘normal’ couples pushed their children, or helped them down the slide. I longed to be ‘normal’ just like them. Families swamped the overcrowded green, eating their picnics on the grass, and scolding their children from time to time. I felt so different from them all. So out of place.
In the evening, when David was asleep, I rooted out my old CV and got to work on updating it. When that was done, I took the evening newspaper and scoured the Situations Vacant column. Then I wrote out several job applications. Mam asked me what I was doing and I told her I was looking for a job.
‘That’s good. Be positive,’ she said, patting me on the head.
When she had left the room, I turned to the Flats To Let section. I was horrified to see the cost of rents. How would I ever be able to afford to move out? Even if I got a job, I would still have to pay childminding fees. That would leave practically nothing to live on, let alone pay the rent. It seemed impossible. It all seemed impossible.
‘Joe’s on the phone,’ my mother interrupted.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, immediately sensing my anxiety.
‘Everything!’ I burst out crying. ‘Everything! I’ve made a fucking balls of it all!’
‘Look, I’ll be there in ten minutes,’ he said.
I put down the phone and felt a certain amount of relief. At the same time I was sickened by my own weakness. I was tired of constantly complaining, and leaning on others, expecting them to sort out my problems.
My loneliness and frustration had reached fever pitch. I needed someone. Anyone.
Joe arrived with a bottle of wine. He went out again and bought two more.
My mother popped her head in the door. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yeah, Mam. I’m just a bit fed up.’
‘Why don’t you go out with Joe for a little while? I don’t mind looking after David. He’s fast asleep.’
I knew she wanted me to go out with Joe. I knew exactly what she had in mind.
‘It’s very late, Ma.’
‘Look, if it gets too late, stay in his house. Everything will be OK here.’
‘Ma?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake. Are you blind or what? The man likes you. Better the divil you know than the divil you don’t.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, we’re just friends.’
‘You’d better get rid of those airs and graces, Jack. Mark my words, no man wants an unmarried mother.’
‘I’m not an unmarried mother,’ I corrected her. ‘I’m a woman with a child.’
‘Ah, sweet Jesus! What difference does it make?’
‘Mam! There’s nothing between us, can’t you get that into your head?’
Joe burst in the door, drenched to the skin. ‘It’s pissing cats and dogs.’
I had my coat on.
‘Are we going somewhere?’ he said wearily.
‘Mam said she’d mind David for a while, so how about going down to your pad for a few hours? Would your Mam mind? We could sit in the kitchen even.’
‘Of course she wouldn’t mind, you know that,’ he said, a little annoyed.
‘Right then. It’s settled. Go on, the two of you. Have fun. Remember, there’s no need to hurry home, Jack.’
‘Yeah, OK, Mam,’ I interrupted before she suggested we buy some condoms in the garage, as well.
Joe looked delighted with himself.
Mrs Hayden, Joe’s mother, was a kindly old woman. She greeted me with open arms, enquired after the family, and then promptly left the room.
‘She always does that,’ I remarked, taking off my wet shoes and opening a bottle of wine.
‘She never interferes,’ he smiled. How I wished I had a mother like that.
‘How’s your dad?’ I asked.
‘Same as ever. He mopes around and then goes to the pub. Then he goes to the bookies. Then he goes back to the pub. I can’t stand the way he behaves towards her,’ Joe added.
Joe’s father had never worked again. Unemployment had had an adverse effect on him. He changed over the years, and for the worse. He had turned the house into a battlefield. He blamed Joe’s mother for everything.
‘It’s the same shit every night. They argue. He walks out. She goes to bed. He rolls home. I don’t know if I can ever live here again. Every time I come home, I can’t wait to get away again,’ he said. I empathised.
‘I know what you mean,’ I sighed. ‘Joe, I really need to get a job and a place to live. Mam and Dad are doing their best, but I’m in the way. How am I going to manage working and looking after David at the same time?’
‘You could always come back to London,’ he said half-heartedly. ‘You wouldn’t be out on the street.’
But I couldn’t bear the thought of London.
We discussed childminding options for David, the possibility of house-sharing, the Corporation housing list, and how to get on it, job-sharing, part-time hours. We covered everything. I was all talked through and we were opening the second bottle of wine. I still had no answers, joe was reassuring. It would all happen eventually, he said. One thing at a time.
We put on some old music and began reminiscing about The Limit and the good old days. We played CD after CD of our favourite music, taking in the remastered tracks and reliving what each one meant to us. Pretty soon, we were in hysterics. Laughing, crying. I was getting very drunk.
I lifted the empty bottle and turned it upside down. ‘Shit! We’ve run out of ammunition!’
‘Never fear.’ Joe leapt to his feet and opened a cabinet on the wall. It was crammed to capacity with bottles of every shape and size and description.
‘What will we have? Let’s see… lager, wine, vodka?’
I could have kissed him. In fact, I decided I would kiss him. It was a long, loving, gentle kiss. I had not meant it to be. I lay back on the floor, and let go. The last thing I could remember was imagining Matt Howard inside me.
*
I awoke with a shocking hangover. I thought that was the worst of it. Then I felt something hard needling
into my back. I realised I was in someone’s bed — a man’s bed, and the man had an erection. I racked my brains. Then the light went on. There was a moment of horrific clarity. I was afraid to move. I felt physically sick. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol I had consumed, or the fact that I knew I had slept with Joe. Certainly, one didn’t complement the other. I heard him moan softly. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. Oh sweet Jesus. I think I’m going to throw up.
I threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. Horror of horrors, I was stark naked. Christ, where were my knickers? I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around me.
Anyone would think I had just been raped. I just about made it to the toilet, where I was sick.
It’s hard to vomit quietly. I heard movement from the bedroom next door. Mrs Hayden greeted me at the toilet door. She acted dumb.
‘Everything OK, dearie?’
‘Eh, fine, thanks. I mean, good morning. Sorry — goodbye.’ I ran past her as fast as I could and slammed Joe’s door behind me. Then I stood stupidly at the end of the bed, still wondering where my clothes were. Joe appeared behind me. I turned around.
‘Your tit is hanging out.’
I looked down, my left breast was exposed. I pulled the blanket up.
He handed me my clothes and I was dressed in one minute flat. He lit a cigarette and pulled on it, calmly watching as I grappled with socks and zips.
‘Jack,’ he started.
‘No,’ I shouted at him.
‘I didn’t say anything, just…’
‘No! No! No!’ I repeated. I was out the door faster than a filly at the Curragh Races.
Luckily, Joe’s house was not too far from my own. When I let myself in the front door, Mam was in the kitchen, feeding David some Weetabix. There was more on the floor than in his mouth.
‘Have a nice night?’ she enquired.
One look from me told it all. She knew to leave me alone and not pry any further. It must have taken several novenas to bite her tongue. I went upstairs and sat on my bed. What had I done? Had I gone the whole way? Or just done the bare essentials? I had to phone Karen.
‘What the hell are you doing, ringing me at this hour of the morning on a Sunday? It’s only nine o’clock?’ I could hear the alarm clock fall to the floor.
‘Wake up, Karen. I need to talk to you. Right now.’
‘I’ll ring you back in an hour,’ she said sleepily.
‘No! This is an emergency.’
‘Jesus. Hold on to your knickers, will you? Just let me get a cup of tea, and a fag, and I’ll call you back.’
‘No. I’ll wait right here.’
‘Jesus Christ! OK.’
I waited, and chain-smoked.
‘OK, I’m listening,’ Karen came back to the phone. I could hear her slurping her tea.
‘I slept with Joe.’ I could hear her choking on the same tea.
‘About fucking time,’ she coughed.
‘I can’t remember anything.’
‘You actually did it?’
‘I had sex with my best friend.’
‘You could have done worse.’
‘Karen! I fucked Joe! What am I going to do?’
‘Well, Jesus Christ, how am I supposed to know? What’s the big deal anyway? Why all the panic?’
‘It feels all wrong.’
‘But presumably you wanted to sleep with him, Jack?
‘I don’t know. I’m confused.’
‘Well, why did you do it then?’
‘I was drunk.’
‘You’re always drunk.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Look, you discussed it?’ Karen sounded serious.
‘No.’
‘Did you spend the night?’
‘Yes.’
‘What happened this morning?’
‘I just got dressed and left.’
‘Hang on a minute. You just got dressed and legged it?’
‘Yes! Yes!’
‘You sick bitch,’ she sighed.
‘Karen, what am I going to do?’
‘Well, you’re going to have to talk to him sooner or later. Christ, the poor bastard. You could have at least said something before you left. Sometimes I can’t understand you.’
‘I tried. I just didn’t know how to handle it.’
‘Jack, sometimes you don’t have to handle things, they handle themselves, you know?’
‘No, I don’t know. That’s my problem, isn’t it?’
There was a slight pause as she sipped her tea and 1 smoked.
‘Well, was he any good? Like, had he a big — ‘
‘Karen, I told you — I can’t remember anything. I swear. I don’t know how far it went. All I know was I woke up naked with a huge horn prodding me in the back.’
Karen sniggered. ‘Then it was big.’
‘I couldn’t care less if he was hung like a horse right now. I’m horrified. I don’t even know what I was drinking.’
‘You dirty slut.’
‘What will I do?’ I asked pleadingly.
‘You’ll have to contact him, and the sooner the better. The longer you leave it, the worse it’s going to get.’
‘You’re right. I hate you!’
‘Can I go back to sleep now? There’s something prodding me and all.’
‘Dirt bag.’
‘Good luck, Jack.’
Thanks, buddy. I’m certainly going to need more than luck this time. I went back downstairs and took David from his highchair. I sat him on my lap. I was exhausted. Mam was still keeping her silence, thank God.
‘I’m going to the supermarket to get something for lunch. I’ll take him with me for the walk, if you like?’ she said.
‘OK. I’ve some more calls to make anyway/
‘I’ll say,’ she muttered under her breath.
*
‘Joe?’
‘Hi, stranger.’
‘I’m really sorry I ran out like that.’
‘It happens all the time.’
Thank God. He was playing with me. I was so grateful. ‘Can we talk?’
‘Do you really want to?’ he replied softly.
‘No.’
‘Then let’s not.’
‘Joe, I can’t remember …’ Help.
‘You’re some tiger,’ he said lightly. ‘I got a bit worried when you asked me to tie you up and pour yoghurt all over you.’
‘Joe, please.’
‘I really panicked, though, when you started to bark. That totally freaked me out.’ He paused. ‘But the worst was yet to come. It’s just as well I couldn’t find any vegetables…’ And then, when he heard my sob of anguish, he said soothingly, ‘It’s OK, Jack. You fell asleep … nothing happened.’
Oh sweet Jesus, Mary and Saint Joseph and all the other saints’ names that I can’t remember, I’ll be lighting so many candles for you, the churches will be burning down.
‘Pity,’ he sighed.
‘Yes,’ I added, half-heartedly. Then: ‘Didn’t we even kiss?’ I was certain I remembered that.
‘We sure did.’
‘That was nice.’
‘It sure was,’ he said cosily.
‘Then what happened?’
‘We lay on the floor ‘And then?’
‘You called me Matt.’ Ah Christ.
Chapter 7
The next day, Joe returned to London. The damage had not been irreparable. In years to come, the incident would be remembered in a humorous context. In a way it only served to bring us closer.
My mother was silent and my father was brooding. It didn’t take me long to figure out why. It was quite evident that they had hoped I would be returning to London with Joe — that they would finally be rid of me. The tension in the house was increasing, the arguments becoming more frequent — and David and I were the cause of them.
It wasn’t that they didn’t
want us. My younger brother was now in college studying for his Master’s degree in Art and History. The atmosphere and noise was hardly conducive to studying. Thank God my sister Rachel had married young and left home a few years ago. David had begun to crawl and everything in the house had to be moved upward about six feet. He pulled things down, climbed dangerously, destroyed the bathroom, broke the video — the list was endless. He wasn’t a bold child, he was simply at the age when he couldn’t help exploring and touching everything. I tried to reprimand him but two minutes later he would be at it again.
My mother was wearing herself out trying to keep everybody happy. My father went out more often and I knew she resented me for that. I felt guilty and desperate and ever more determined to find a job and get out of their hair altogether. I bought the paper every day, to let them see I was making an effort. I enlisted with all the employment agencies in the Yellow Pages. I signed up with FAS and visited the Social Welfare office. I went to the Local Employment Service and had my CV professionally bound. I wrote to all the local businesses that I knew of. I tried hard not to think about the childminding situation. I had no one to mind David; I would cross that bridge when I came to it. I knew intuitively that Mam couldn’t help.
She worked fulltime as a waitress in a hotel, usually the weekends, but still, it would have been unfair to put such pressure on her; she had spent her life raising us and was only beginning to reclaim her own life.
It was almost the end of 1989 when I finally secured a position working as a secretary. The company was called Brady Insurances. The place smelt like a toilet so I used to call it ‘Brady Urinals’ instead. I absolutely detested it.
Finding a suitable childminder was a nightmare. Eventually, through the help of a local Health Board official, David was offered a place in a Health Board creche on the North Strand on account of my being a single mother with low earnings. The fees were inexpensive and it seemed to be professionally run. The staff were friendly. Despite my initial worries that it wouldn’t ‘be good enough’ I began to relax when I collected him each evening at 5.30 pm and he was still smiling.
Brady’s itself was like a morgue. The staff were detached and businesslike, and stared at you when you laughed. I was employed on a temporary contract basis, which suited me down to the ground. I had no intention of making a career out of my badly paid ‘typing and filing’ position. I arrived at nine each morning, hung up my coat, picked up the first folder on the desk and began to type. The work was so boring, it would have put a glass eye to sleep!
The House that Jack Built Page 8