The Story of Before

by Susan Stairs

  Tracey looked at the others, unsure of what to say.

  ‘Yeah . . . well,’ Valerie said, fingering the necklace that spelled out her name. ‘That’s probably a lie. You’re good at those, aren’t you?’ She looked at David.

  ‘Me?’ I said. ‘You know right well you were the one who said David broke his wrist deliberately in the first place, so don’t try and pretend it was something I made up.’

  ‘Huh? Cheek of you, Ruth Lamb. Think you’re so special, don’t you? Well, guess what? No one round here likes you. Everyone wishes you never moved to Hillcourt Rise.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Tracey agreed. ‘We all got along fine before you Lambs came. You’re nothing but trouble. Even my mam says so. Why don’t you all just go back to wherever you came from?’

  I could feel my face beginning to burn. And my throat stung, like it always did when I was about to cry.

  ‘And where’s your daddy tonight then?’ Valerie continued. ‘Not showing off this year with his stupid fireworks?’

  ‘I told you,’ I said, trying to steady my voice. ‘My uncle died. He’s at the funeral if you must know. Not that it’s any of your business.’

  ‘So what’re you doing out here now? It’s nearly all over, or hadn’t you noticed?’

  ‘Well, I thought I’d give you this back,’ I said, tipping the sheep’s head out of the bag. It landed on the grass with a thud, glancing off Valerie’s shoe. She screamed, grabbing David’s arm and dragging him with her as she jumped back in horror.

  ‘Jesus Christ! Get that away! Mammy! Mammy!’ she yelled over to Nora.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ David said. ‘Are you mentally deranged? You’re sick, you know that?’

  ‘I’m only giving it back!’ I said, blinking away my tears. ‘Tracey dumped it on our doorstep! If anyone’s sick, it’s her. And I bet you all knew about it too.’

  ‘I did not!’ Tracey insisted. ‘You liar! Why would I do something like that? It’s disgusting. And where would I get a . . . a . . . sheep’s head, for God’s sake?’

  ‘You can easily get them in Boylan’s. I know it was you, Tracey Farrell. I saw you!’

  Nora and Geraldine came running over, elbowing their way through the small crowd that had gathered to see what was going on. Paddy and Clem followed and soon I was surrounded on all sides. Geraldine pointed to the ground. ‘What in the name of God is that?’ she demanded. ‘Is it what I think it is?’ She screwed her face up in disgust.

  ‘Yes,’ David answered. ‘It is what you think it is. It’s a sheep’s head.’

  Nora tutted and muttered ‘disgrace’ under her breath. ‘Deposited here by Miss Lamb,’ David continued, glancing at me. ‘Ironic, wouldn’t you all agree? I wonder what Mother Lamb will say when she finds out?’ He touched the head with his foot, turning it over and kicking it across the grass towards me. He thought he was so smart, making fun of my name and my mam. But I could play that game too. I swallowed hard.

  ‘At least I know who my mother is.’ I stared into his face. ‘My real mother, I mean.’

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew Shayne had been lying. The effect was instant. Even in the twilight I could see David’s face drain of its yellowish colour.

  He hadn’t known.

  But I could tell from his eyes it was something he’d lain in bed at night wondering about.

  ‘Wh . . . what do you mean . . . real mother?’ he stammered.

  Geraldine instantly turned and took off like a bullet across the green in the direction of the O’Deas’, determined to be the first to deliver the news to Mona and Eamon. I wanted to run too, but I was surrounded. I hadn’t a hope of escaping.

  ‘Well?’ David asked. His voice quivered as he tried desperately to keep his face from crumbling. ‘What do you mean . . . real mother?’ he pleaded to everyone gathered. ‘What’s going on? Paddy? Anyone? Tell me what she’s on about.’

  ‘Ah now, son,’ Paddy said, putting his arm around David’s shoulder. ‘Sure, don’t mind anything that’s said in the heat of the moment. Words, that’s all it is.’

  Tracey and Valerie nudged each other and stared at me with their mouths open. The twins looked like china dolls, their huge eyes frozen and unblinking, and their perfect hair waving gently around their pink cheeks. David fiddled with the stud of his wristband, clicking it again and again as the small crowd began to mumble among them selves. Geraldine arrived back, out of breath, with Mona and Eamon behind her. She planted her hands on her hips and nodded at me. Her nostrils glistened and she sniffed loudly before she spoke.

  ‘There she is,’ she said, as if to show Mona and Eamon she hadn’t been making it up. ‘Happy with yourself?’ she asked me.

  ‘Mother?’ David asked Mona. Her worried face said it all. She went to put her arms around him but he pulled away. He scanned the faces of the various adults around him; it was clear that they’d all known. Through their years of living in Hillcourt Rise, Mona and Eamon had confided in their neighbours. At coffee mornings, after mass chats and garden gate gossips, they’d each learned the secret about David O’Dea. A secret they’d all kept safe from their children. And safe from David himself. ‘But I asked you about it,’ David said, his voice thin and high. ‘Remember? When I pointed out I looked nothing like you or Dad.’ He zipped his jacket right up to his trembling chin. ‘You told me not to be so . . . so ridiculous.’

  ‘David. Dear. Come back inside. We’ll talk about this at home.’ Mona tried again to touch him.

  ‘Get away from me!’ he growled. He faced up to Eamon. ‘And you. You make me sick. I don’t want anything to do with either of you. You’ve lied to me my whole life.’ He waved his arms around and shouted, ‘And everyone knew about it except me!’ It sounded as if he was choking, unable to catch his breath, and he pounded on his chest with his fists before dissolving into a fit of coughing. He fell to his knees and Paddy ran over, but David got to his feet and pushed him away. ‘Fuck off,’ he spat, between coughs. ‘Fuck the hell off! All of you! You hear me?’ He began to run, his legs like a newborn foal’s to begin with – all gangly and wobbly under the weight of his body – then, as if mastering the trick of balance for the very first time, he took off like a bird released. We all watched him in silence. Then, slowly, the crowd began to thin. One by one, out of shame and embarrassment and fear, everyone made their way home. Some of them looked at me as they passed but no one said a word. In minutes, I stood alone on the green.

  I shivered. I’d run out without my coat. Crossing my arms over my chest, I pushed my hands up into the sleeves of my cardigan to keep my fingers warm and started walking. I wanted to go home. But not home to forty-two Hillcourt Rise. Home to the moon. Or the stars. Or the bottom of the sea. Anywhere.

  Anywhere but here.

  Suddenly, I felt my body lift off the ground and sail through the air. Stars flashed all around, burning and fading through the blackness. Bangers exploded. Pop! Pop! Pop! And from over the rooftops came the faint but certain sound of excited screams. Some other strange noise whistled about my head and it wasn’t until I landed on the grass with a thump that I realized it was air squeezing out of my lungs. I slid along the damp grass for a few inches, stopping short of the sheep’s head, it’s slimy, bloody face only inches from my own.

  David had slammed into me from behind. He’d launched the full weight of his body against mine, and had landed on all fours to my right without so much as a wobble. His eyes were fixed on me – steady and sharp and fearless, like an animal. His breath rasped in and out of his throat.

  At that moment, David O’Dea hated me. More than he hated anyone. Even those who’d kept the secret from him for so long. As he stared at me, his lips twitched with the trace of a smile. I’d have felt less frightened if he’d roared at me like a tiger and sank his teeth into my flesh.

  Slowly, he got to his knees, grinning. Then he began to laugh. It came from the back of his throat, softly at first, like an engine spluttering to life. Then it
travelled down into his belly and came up again, bursting from his mouth, snorting out of his nose. He stood up, towering over me like a crazy giant. The moles on his face stood out against the paling of his skin and his hair hung down in sweaty spikes. He stepped closer. I pulled my knees up to my chest. He drew his foot back and I squeezed my eyes shut, readying myself for a kick, trying to tense my trembling limbs. I held my breath.

  ‘David! David! Come on home now, lad! Let’s have a little chat.’

  I opened my eyes. It was Father Feely. Summoned by the O’Deas, no doubt, and waddling towards us, flapping his arms. David dropped his foot. I took a gulp of air and felt my body sink into the cold ground. ‘Come on now, lad. Let’s get you home.’ Father Feely put his arm around David’s shoulders, barely even glancing at me as he steered him away.

  I lay there, watching the two of them heading across the green. And beyond them, Eamon and Mona stood at their front door waiting, their shapes black against the bright white light coming from their hall. I scrambled to my feet. My body felt as though it had been beaten. Pain shot up and down my legs. I was dizzy. The world around me whirled. Spun. Like water down a plughole. I was being sucked down with it. I could feel it. If Father Feely hadn’t arrived, David would’ve kicked me.

  And I was certain that it wouldn’t have been just the once.

  A few feet away from me was the sheep’s head. Grotesque and all as it was, I didn’t want to leave it there. I picked up the plastic bag and managed to push it inside with my foot. It bumped against my leg as I made my way home. Just before I rounded the corner to the cul-de-sac, I saw Shayne approaching from the left, hands in pockets, hair flapping up and down. When he saw me, he quickened his steps, running the final few yards until he caught up.

  ‘Ye goin’ home already?’ he asked, his teeth chewing on something hard and sticky. I kept walking and he danced sideways alongside me. ‘Ye got loads of stuff,’ he said, nodding at the bag. ‘Give us a look.’

  I stopped dead on the path. ‘Here,’ I snapped. ‘You can have it.’ I slapped the bag into his chest. He pulled his hands out of his pockets to catch it.

  He looked inside. ‘Jesus Christ!’ His face wrinkled up and he dropped the bag to the ground. ‘That’s disgustin’. Stink off of it. What’re ye doin’ with that?’ I picked up the bag and started walking again, faster this time. He followed beside, his warm, strawberry breath finding its way up my nose. ‘What’s wrong with ye?’

  ‘What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you that you can’t tell the truth? I should’ve known not to believe you. You told me David knew he was adopted.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So? Turns out he didn’t. And you didn’t either, did you? You just pretended you already knew. You couldn’t stand that I found out something like that before you did.’

  I told him what had happened.

  ‘Yeah, well . . . d’ye not think it’s better that he knows?’

  ‘You’re glad he found out, aren’t you? Now he knows how you feel, isn’t that it?’

  His face turned sour. ‘Yeah, well, he’s always slaggin’ me ’cos I don’t know who me da is. Taste of his own medicine now. I told ye. Ye don’t know what he’s like. Thinks he’s better than everyone else.’

  ‘But I’m the one who’s going to get in trouble for telling him, not you.’

  ‘Nobody made ye go and blab, did they?’

  ‘No, but . . . you shouldn’t have pretended he already knew.’

  He hung his head. ‘I didn’t mean for ye to get in trouble over it. I was goin’ to tell him meself. Swear I was.’ He looked up, still chewing on his sweets. I thought about his lips on mine.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘I mean . . . it’s not your fault. If that’s what he’s like then . . . then I’m glad he knows now. It’s weird the way the truth can get you in as much trouble as telling lies.’

  He half grinned. ‘Yeah. Weird all right.’ He held out a handful of red jelly hearts and I slipped one into my mouth. We were almost at our house.

  ‘Why weren’t you out with the rest of them on the green?’ I asked.

  ‘Dunno. I was just . . . keepin’ an eye on me ma.’

  ‘She’s not in bed again, is she?’

  ‘Nah. I had to wait till me . . . till me uncle Vic went out.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Dunno. She’s . . . sort of . . . you know . . . scared of him, that’s all.’

  ‘Why would she be scared of him?’ I couldn’t imagine Liz being afraid of anyone.

  ‘Ah, ye know. Goes a bit mental when he’s had a drink and he was knockin’ back the whiskey billy-o earlier on, so I thought I better hang around.’

  ‘Oh. What do you mean, mental?’

  ‘Ye know. Beltin’ her round the place and stuff.’

  ‘Vic? Your uncle Vic?’ I tried to picture a scene in my head. ‘But why . . . why does she stay with him then?’

  ‘Got no one else, has she?’ He swallowed his mouthful of sweets. ‘If he does it again, I’ll fuckin’ kill him.’

  My teeth began to chatter from the cold. He offered me another jelly heart. It was warm and soft from the heat of his hand.

  ‘My uncle Frank died a few days ago,’ I said as I chewed. ‘It was his funeral today.’

  ‘I wish me uncle Vic was dead.’

  He walked off then without a word and as I looked back at him shuffling along, he seemed smaller and thinner than he had before, like he’d shrunk even in the time I’d been talking to him.

  I breathed out a long sigh that hung like a cloud in the cold air. I didn’t want to go back inside. It didn’t feel like our house. It was simply a place where we happened to live: a collection of walls and floors and furniture. It didn’t matter how many cushion covers Mam made or how much Dad prettied up the garden; something was keeping me from calling Hillcourt Rise my home.

  I stopped outside Bridie’s and very quietly opened her gate. I tip-toed up her drive and crept in behind her hydrangeas where she kept her dustbin. Lifting the lid, I emptied my plastic bag. That’ll teach her to hide her coconut macaroons, I said to myself, as the sheep’s head plopped heavily down into her bin.

  When I let myself back inside, Mel and Sandra were arguing over their quiz scores and, surprisingly, Kev was still fast asleep. Mam and Dad came in at nine o’clock, apologizing for being late but Cissy, they said, had insisted on everyone staying for tea and ham sandwiches. Poor Cissy. Mam said that during the funeral, she’d whispered, ‘I can’t think where Frank’s got to, Rose. He’s not usually late for mass.’

  I didn’t tell them about the sheep’s head or what had happened with David. They’d had enough upset for one day.

  FOURTEEN

  But it wasn’t long before everyone heard about the Hallowe’en drama on the green. One evening the next week, I was lying on my bed, reading, when I heard Father Feely’s voice vibrating up through the house like a swarm of bees.

  ‘You’re wanted,’ Sandra said, poking her head round the door. ‘Now.’

  I groaned and slammed my book shut. I knew what his visit had to be about.

  Mam ushered me into the sitting room. Dad closed the door.

  ‘There you are, Ruth,’ Father Feely said. ‘I thought I’d call in for a little chat. You know why I’m here, I’m sure?’ He stood with his back to the fireplace, air rushing out of his nose like a hurricane. ‘I believe you had words with young David? You let him in on a little secret, hmm?’

  ‘It was hardly a secret,’ I said. ‘Most of the grown-ups already knew.’

  ‘Yes, well, his parents are most upset at the way he found out. Most upset. They’d planned to tell him soon themselves, you see. And now . . . well . . .’

  ‘I didn’t plan on telling him. It just sort of slipped out.’

  ‘I see. You seem to have a history of allowing things to slip out,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that so? All that upset over how he broke his wrist, hmm?’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Now, now, young l
ady,’ he interrupted, wagging his finger. ‘That tongue of yours has caused enough trouble already. I don’t have time for any buts.’

  ‘But I—’

  ‘Ruth!’ Mam said, raising her eyebrows. ‘Do as you’re told.’

  ‘David is going away,’ Father Feely announced. ‘To the boarding school in Clonrath. I’ve just confirmed it with the brothers down there.’ He brought the tips of his fingers together in a pyramid shape. ‘Now, it’s not been an easy decision, let me tell you. Not at all. Sending a young lad away from home. But Mona and Eamon, they, well, we . . .’ He stared at me with his swivelly eyes. ‘It’s for the best. He needs a change of scene, poor lad.’ Dad coughed and Mam fiddled with the buttons on her cardigan. ‘It won’t be until the new year,’ he continued. ‘But I wanted to let you know. I thought it might be better coming from myself.’

  ‘Well, thank you, Father,’ Mam said, as if we should somehow be grateful. ‘It was good of you to call.’

  I wanted to say something about the sheep’s head and how everyone had been so mean to me, but I knew it wouldn’t make the slightest difference. Up against His Holiness, Saint David, I didn’t stand a chance.

  Father Feely took a watch on a chain from his pocket and examined it closely. ‘Yes, well, I’ll be off now, if you don’t mind.’ He patted my head. ‘I take it I’ll see you in confession soon, Ruth. Hmm?’

  Mam saw him out. Dad scratched his moustache and looked at the floor. ‘I don’t understand why you had to go and say that to David,’ he said.

  ‘I thought he already knew! Shayne said—’

  ‘Lawless! I knew he’d have to be behind it! I don’t want you listening to a word he says, you hear me? He’s trouble.’

  I bit down on my lip. Why don’t you want me to listen to anything Shayne says, Dad? I wanted to ask him. Because you’re afraid he’ll say something you don’t want me to hear? About you and his mam?

  ‘It’s not Shayne’s fault he’s the way he is,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, well, you’re better off away from him. And stop meddling in other people’s affairs.’