Setanta stood there looking at her with an expression that said: I do not like thee.
Madame cried out for assistance; two of the agency guards came forward. Battler, leading the locals, moved closer. Hearing the furore, the Director rushed out on to the street. He took in the situation at a glance.
‘Arrest that man and animal,’ he screamed.
Ulick muttered quietly, ‘Dandaboy.’
The little man—wearing a red suit and green cap—was there in a flash; only Ulick and Setanta could see or hear him. Dandaboy saw the guards closing in. He put a hand on Setanta who immediately became invisible. Everyone froze in shock.
‘That was a good one, Dan Dan,’ Setanta remarked.
Dandaboy grinned.
The Director blinked, but he wasn’t for turning.
‘Arrest that man,’ he screamed.
‘I’ll stand my ground, lad,’ Ulick remarked quietly to Dandaboy.
The guards closed in: Battler bustled his way to the front of the crowd and confronted the Director.
‘You’re not going to arrest our President,’ he stated firmly.
‘President, President,’ he screamed scornfully, ’you have no president. I’m in complete charge here.’
The crowd moved a little closer: all fifty of them. The guards began to look nervous.
Ulick intervened. ’Mr. Crat, Crap or whatever you call yourself, there is no need for violence here. I suggest you go back to your office.’
The Director looked at that hostile crowd: it was his worst nightmare, people who won’t obey the law. He faced them and retorted furiously.
‘I am the law here.’
He turned to his deputy. ‘We go back to the office.’
The crowd cheered. Setanta, still invisible, turned to Dandaboy.
‘Hop up on my back and we go for a run.’
The crowd dispersed. Once clear of the guards Setanta became visible again as he raced out of town.
*
Back in the Agency, the Director [let’s just call him Crat] sat down with Madame, who, curiously, wasn’t displeased with the very public encounter with the locals.
‘What are you going to do, Director?’ she asked.
‘I’m going to ask the Commissioner to send a thousand armed troops; those people will soon find out who’s boss here.’
‘And that animal?’
‘We’ll take him into custody, and have him put down: that will put manners on their “President.” President, they call him; the man doesn’t even know how to dress himself.’
‘I agree, Director. I am going to inspect the shops.’
*
She smiled to herself as she walked down the street to the local supermarket. Sending for troops was a sign of weakness. She always agreed with everything the Director said, but privately kept her own council.
Anna Shiller was brought up in a small village near Bonn: her father was the local postman; her mother, a teacher in the girls’ school. Very bright and ambitious—taking after her mother—she joined the civil service in Bonn; studied Economics, Law and Local Government. Although her obvious ability was quickly recognised, she advanced slowly up the promotion ladder. This, she believed was due to her lack of friends in high places, and absolute refusal to conform to the social activities of her colleagues.
She married Gunter Assnholfden—a computer expert in the service—a big, outgoing, very affable man: but an alcoholic and a gambler. Much older than her, his outgoing personality made up for her more serious character. She gave up after three years and divorced him: now, thirty-five, she still hoped she would find the man of her dreams.
After the divorce she applied, successfully, for an executive job with the new USE and moved to Brussels as a senior manager. Seconded to a team of experts, she was one of the people responsible for drawing up the detail of the new CAP replacement programme (known as the CRAP). She expected to get one of the regions but—as she found out—the top jobs were reserved for those on the inside track: mostly male.
She didn’t like her Director: the pompous, big headed, little prat who was so impressed with himself; he only got this job because his father was a retired ambassador.
*
Entering Matt Reilly’s little supermarket, she bought an apple—SA delicious number 1—for fifteen cents and insisted on getting a receipt. Matt, a mild middle aged man, looked after his customers and spent his spare time fishing and shooting with Ulick and Paulo.
Madame then walked to Shona Murray’s shop at the other end of the town. Shona, a very attractive and popular young woman, took over the business when her father retired. There, Madame bought a similar apple for fifteen cents and obtained a receipt. Returning to the office, she filled out two official looking forms and called first on Matt Reilly.
She handed him a document and announced imperiously. ’This is a summons to appear at Galway Circuit Court: you are charged under Directive 53648 with a breach of the competition directives.’
Matt, normally affable, looked at her blankly.
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ he demanded.
‘In these premises—and one other in this town—the price of an apple is fifteen cents. I have the receipts to prove it. That is contrary to the competition Directives. I have to warn you that you may be fined up to 1,000 euro a day for every day this continues. I will be calling to carry out an inspection every day and I’ll also be looking at other products.’
Matt was still standing there—in a state of shock—five minutes after she left. He called on Shona Murray who was just as shocked. Together, they consulted Ulick.
The following day, Madame did the rounds again. The price of an apple in Shona Murray’s was fifteen cents: twenty cents in Matt Reilly’s. Madame returned to Matt shortly afterwards and handed him another summons.
‘You are being charged with profiteering: I can buy the same apple for fifteen cents down the street.’
Matt shook his head ruefully. ‘We can’t win, can we? I’ll let Ulick Joyc look after this.’
‘That man cannot do anything for you: we make the law. The ongoing fine per day is a maximum of 1,000 euro.’
She left without further comment. On her way back to the agency she stopped outside Maggot’s meat shop and stood gazing into the window for some minutes.
*
Before leaving for his hotel, the director marched across the road to Paulo’s half full pub; pushed in the door, stood at the counter and demanded imperiously. ‘Garson, a gin and tonic here.’
Customer conversation died. Paulo, more amused than abused by the designation, completed the order in hand and then walked slowly to where the director was waiting impatiently.
‘Can I help you, sir?’ he asked calmly.
‘A gin and tonic and be quick about it,’ he barked.
The crowd remained silent.
Paulo served the order was handed a ten euro note and put the change before his new customer who examined it carefully.
‘That’s too expensive,’ the great man blustered.
Paulo smiled at him. ‘I wouldn’t know, sir, I only work here.’
The director finished his drink, thumped the glass on the counter and departed.
*
The Contessa invited Ulick to dinner at the Haven; she didn’t invite Ella. She found herself drawn to this man of integrity; without airs and graces, he was a real man. She had known few such men; most were only interested in one thing. A good reason to become a nun.
Met by Ali, Ulick was shown to the dining room where Gina was waiting for him. Unknown to either of them, Dandaboy was wandering around admiring this palace. He liked Gina; nothing wrong with that, but he preferred Ella. She wouldn’t be able to compete with this beauty; Ulick was clearly besotted with her.
Two very pretty nuns, dressed in long flowing cream dresses, served dinner—pheasant with assorted vegetables, followed by ice cream, coffee and Champagne. Encouraged by the Champagne, which he wasn’t used to,
Ulick talked about his life and times growing up in Connemara; Gina chatted pleasantly, but said little about herself.
This was all very confusing for Dandaboy; didn’t nuns dress like old crows and eat like sparrows? Must be different nuns now.
Ulick sat back, thinking heaven must be like this.
‘Gina, I think I’ve found a lovely wolfhound for you.’
‘That’s wonderful.’
‘Joe Staunton, over in Cornamona has one for sale. I’ll find out how much he wants.’
She smiled. ‘I love big shaggy dogs. I’ll take it, price doesn’t matter. I’ll send Toby to collect him tomorrow.’
Ulick omitted to mention this dog was a bitch, probably because Dandaboy hadn’t so informed him. Setanta couldn’t talk to Ulick; Dandaboy could talk to everyone when he so wished.
As the Champagne flowed, Gina relaxed her life long habit of never telling anyone more than they needed to know.
‘U-lick, I feel I can trust you, and I trust very few people. Perhaps, it’s because I was brought up in an orphanage near Naples. I was actually very lucky; a lovely nun there took me under her wing, she was like a mother to me. But, from the time I was old enough to understand, I deeply resented being abandoned by my mother and made no secret of it. I tried to find out who she was; to tell her what I thought of her, but they wouldn’t tell me—that’s if they knew.’ She paused. ‘I must have had too much Champagne; I don’t usually talk so much.’
‘Gina,’ he began, ‘that’s very sad. Our mothers play such an important role in our lives. I can’t blame you for resenting your mother, I would too, but you have made a great success of your life. I’m sure your mother had a good reason for doing what she did; you should try to forgive her.’
A little tear ran down her beautiful face.
‘That’s not possible, U-lick.’ She paused and smiled wistfully. ‘It’s good to be able to talk to someone I trust.’
She filled up their glasses again. He protested. ‘If I take any more I won’t be able to drive home.’
‘I’ll get To-by to drive you home.’
He had no option but to agree although he could expect plenty of stick from the bould Toby.
*
Ulick had promised to meet Ozzy in Paulo’s. As the sun was sinking slowly towards the west he walked briskly up the Main Street with Setanta cantering along side, conscious he was being observed by friend and foe alike. He took his usual seat in the bar beside Ozzy who grinned at Setanta and patted his head.
‘I’d like a pint too, Dan Ozzy.’
‘Could we have three pints here, Paulo?’ Ozzy asked.
He looked at him sharply.
‘What do you want three for?’
‘One for Setanta.’
The big dog bared his teeth in a smile.
Paulo looked a bit doubtful; he put up two pints and then filled another into a glass bowl. Ozzy put it on the ground in front of Setanta who lapped it up gleefully, then looked up at Ozzy.
‘I was out at the Haven last night; Woofy is lovely. I’m going out again on Saturday night.’
Everyone satisfied, Paulo joined them.
‘I brought some supplies out to Martin Sandy’s house this morning. He was just home from the clinic where he spent the night; they’re taking turns to sit with his mother. She’s very calm and peaceful.’
Ulick nodded sympathetically. ‘A fine woman and a great mother.’
Paulo continued. ‘He told me he was over in Scotland two weeks ago, up near Inverness. He’s just finished the new airport there.’
‘Did he see the Lough Ness monster?’
‘Wait a while now, Ulick. That’s not the point. I don’t think anyone ever saw the monster, but it brings millions of people to the area every year.’ He paused. ‘We have one of the biggest lakes in Ireland here: could we not have our own monster?’
Before they could continue there was a noisy interruption at the entrance: Madame, accompanied by two guards, charged into the pub. Ozzy put his hand on Setanta’s head.
Madame announced in a loud voice.
‘An animal was seen entering this premises contrary to Directive 76397. He will now be taken into custody.’
Ozzy nodded to Ulick who turned to face her.
‘There’s no animal here: search if you wish.’
She strode manfully towards them and stood in front of Setanta.
‘Is not this an animal?’
‘This is just a toy dog, Madame.’
He tapped the top of Setanta’s head: from it came strong metallic sounds.
She did like wise with the same result.
‘It looks like the animal that was seen entering these premises.’
She turned to her guards.
‘Institute a thorough search—there’s an animal here somewhere.’
They headed for the toilets. At this juncture she became aware of Ozzy; in some strange way she felt drawn to this friendly man who smiled a lot.
‘What is your name?’ she asked.
He grinned although he was terrified.
‘Ozzy, Madame, at your service.’
Her expression softened. ‘When you come for your stipend ask for me.’
Her guards returned empty handed. She addressed the assembled multitude.
‘I am posting guards outside these premises; when the animal emerges it will be taken into custody.’
With a little smile at Ozzy, she departed.
Ozzy put his hand on Setanta’s head again: he reverted to normal.
‘That was a good one, Dan Ozzy. If I had boots I’d be quaking in them. She like you.’
Ulick was enjoying this.
‘Ozzy has made a conquest. Three more pints, Paulo.’
Later, the invisible Setanta staggered out of the pub, supported by Ulick and Ozzy; the big wolf hound was half pissed.
‘Hop up on my back and I’ll give you a ride,’ he chortled cheerily.
Dandaboy grinned. ‘Not tonight, you won’t.’
*
Madame entered Ella’s comfortable and well appointed restaurant and home bakery shop at lunch time and took a seat by the window; from this vantage point she could observe the people in the street outside. Handed a menu, she studied it carefully before ordering soup, beef and vegetables followed by apple pie and coffee. Ella observed her quietly; what’s she up to now? The whole town knew about her visits to Shona Murray and Matt Reilly. When paying her bill, Madame insisted on it being itemised and took a copy of the menu with her.
But Ella had other things on her mind; the whole town was talking about the beautiful Contessa and her friends out at the Haven. Ulick’s friendship with this lady worried her; he had become very pensive of late.
*
After a long session with Ulick, Battler presented himself at the Agency; shown into Crat’s presence he handed over the completed form in triplicate. The Director examined it carefully, made some entries in his computer, extracted a voucher from a drawer and handed it to him with another form.
‘Complete this form in triplicate and present yourself here in one week’s time.’
Battler looked at the voucher: it was for 227 euro.
He stood up. ‘What the hell’s going on here? I’m entitled to 500 euro a week.’
‘You are not—you are entitled to be brought up to 500 euro a week. You spent only 273 euro.’
He pointed to a heavy manual on his desk—it was all of fifteen inches thick.
‘Do you want to see the Directive?’ he asked sarcastically. ‘Or you can check it on the Internet, if you know what that is.’
Battler reported back to Ulick.
‘What are we going to do?’
‘For a start you’ll have to prove—on paper—that you spend 500 euro a week.’
‘Why don’t we just run this bastard out of town; we can’t take this kind of rubbish lying down.’
Ulick shook his head. ‘That’s not the answer. They would just send someone else.’
&n
bsp; ‘We have to do something.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘We have to do something but it has to be legal, and it has to rid us of this bullshit for good.’
*
Paulo drove out to Jody Fahy’s boat yard at Maam Bridge. A very affable little man, dressed in an old grey sports coat and black trousers decorated with wood chippings, Jody was a keen fisherman himself and the winner of many international competitions in his day. Like many a one before and since, he emigrated as a young man and spent years working as a carpenter on building sites in London, before returning to Hockey’s boat builders in Galway.
Two years later, he took over Ernie Devane’s business in Maam. He kept on the boat hire—mostly for fishermen and tourists who stayed in nearby hotels and guest houses—and built a fine new workshop to manufacture new and more modern boats. Well on in years now, his two sons did most of the work.
As Paulo expected, the yard wasn’t busy; ten boats were tied up at the little pier. A frequent customer in Paulo’s, Jody greeted him affably and they adjourned to the local for a drink. With the news of the day out of the way, Paulo outlined his problem.
‘Lough Ness has its monster, so they say; why don’t we have one here?’
‘A real one?’
‘You surely don’t think the Loch Ness one is real? What we need is something mocked up to look like a real one. It would do great things for the tourist season.’
Jody thought about it for a few moments.
‘I’m for anything that will bring this place to life.’ He paused thoughtfully. ‘I suppose it could be done. We’d need a small craft, a canoe that could be sealed and weighted to stay about a foot under the surface.’
‘Can you do it?’
‘I can do that part: the problem is, we’d have to install a motor.’
‘Like they use for model aircraft?’
‘Yes, but a bit more powerful. There’s a fellow I know in Oranmore, Iggy O’Haire, who does this type of thing; used to work on engines in Hockey’s. I’ll talk to him and have a mould made in PVC. The tricky part will be balancing the weights so we can keep the hull a steady eighteen inches under the surface.’
‘When can you start, Jody?’
‘Right now. I have shag all else to do.’ He paused. ‘The fewer who know about this the better.’
Conna in Crisis & The Marriage of Ulick Page 4