by Lee Dunne
The taxi driver was asked in for a drink, and more power to his elbow he didn’t say no. Dublin taxi men are like that. If the work interferes with the drinking, stop the work He was a nice friendly fella with plenty of Blarney, and the colour of his nose had cost him more than the value of his taxi, if looks were anything to go by.
The flat reeked of comfort and Larry flopped down on the settee in the bit lounger, as though he owned the place. And I thought to myself, maybe he does. Nothing about that fella could have surprised me.
Breeda got some tumblers and poured drinks all round. The taxi driver gave his whiskey an awful quick death. She gave him another and that didn’t live long either, then he was shaking hands with us and he was gone. Talk about a quick drink.
I sat down and felt really drunk. I watched Breeda as she put on a record and herself and Larry started to dance. They seemed to be stuck together at the crotch and they didn’t move more than the length of a hankie. It wasn’t really what you’d call dancing. It was more like a dry upright. I enjoyed watching them shuffle and they were still at it when I fell asleep.
They weren’t in the room when I woke up. I could see from the mantle clock that I’d been asleep for about an hour and I felt that I was going to be sick. I went to the door hoping to find a bathroom and my head felt like a ton of turf. When I got into the hall I could hear a bed going like the clappers. For once I wasn’t interested in sex and I only just got to the lavatory pan in time. God was I sick! I swear it came up from the soles of my feet and there was a stone-cold sweat on my face by the time I finished. I had a good wash, first with hot and after with cold water. Then I took some toothpaste from a tube on the wash-basin and rubbed it into my mouth and teeth. After a good gargle I felt a lot better. Then I went back into the lounge and there was Larry putting another record on the gramophone. He seemed relieved that I was okay.
‘All right, Paddy?’
‘Yeh. Sorry. Hope I didn’t spoil things for you.’
He shook his head. ‘No, I’d had my share when I heard you being sick. Fancy a drink?’
‘No, not right now, thanks.’ God, I didn’t ever want to get near a drink again, as long as I lived.
Guy Mitchell came off the record, singing about his truly truly fair and it was okay to listen to. I sat down and Larry sipped from his glass.
‘Breeda likes you. It’s there if you fancy it.’
I fancied her all right. I thought she had everything that a woman should have. But going in after him seemed a bit strong. I honestly felt that he wouldn’t care one way or the other but I didn’t want him, above all people, to think that I was a jibber.
‘It won’t be easy following you,’ I grinned, ‘but I’ll do the best I can.’
He laughed and swallowed the rest of his drink. ‘Good on you. You’re a man after me own heart.’
I left him standing there and went along the hall to the room where she lay in the bed. I closed the door after me and she opened her eyes. She looked as though she was only half in the room. Her dark eyes were glazed and her mouth looked raw from where I stood. She sat up and the sheet fell away from her breasts. They stood out firm, the nipples like brown eyes against the cream of her skin. My throat was dry and I was so tense that I thought my skin would crack. I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
‘You’ve come to make love to me, Paddy.’ Her voice was dry as parchment. ‘Come in with me in the bed.’
I took my clothes off without thinking about what I was doing. It was automatic, no thought about it, just an action that was to lead to something else.
I stood by the bed and she reached out and took my hands. I fell down beside her and she kissed, taking me with her into a pink and green confusion of love-making. It was fierce and even painful and I remember that she begged to be bitten and even her blood on my lips seemed all right.
When I got out of bed Larry got back in beside her and I went into the bathroom and lay soaking in glorious hot water. My body stung all over and when I looked at myself I was that I was a mass of bruises and I lay there in sweet luxury, feeling that this was the life.
About six o’clock we went into the local pub and I was surprised to find that I wanted a bottle of Guinness, when only a few hours before I was swearing to myself that I’d never touch a drink again.
We talked and joked over the drinks, but the happenings of the afternoon weren’t mentioned. Larry was his usual self and Breeda was just as she had been when I first met her, except for little dark shadows that were under her eyes. I tried not to keep looking at her, but it wasn’t easy. I’d never known anyone quite like her and I wanted more of the same.
When I got up to go she kissed me full on the mouth and I knew that she liked me. Either that or she was some actress.
‘Goodbye Breeda. See you soon.’
‘Sure,’ she said, ‘Nice to meet you, Paddy.’
For some reason I didn’t expect her to be any different to the way she was just then. I didn’t expect any thanks any more than she did from me. I can’t explain it, it was just the way she affected me. What we’d had in the afternoon was over and done with. It had nothing to do with us saying goodbye.
Larry came out to the bike with me and, though I tried arguing, he shoved a ten-bob note in the top pocket of my jacket.
‘Don’t be such a worrier. It’s made round to go round.’
I knew he’d say that, but there was no point in telling him that a ten bob note was oblong. He’d have told me to change it into four half crowns and see how they were or something like that. Neither of us said anything about Breeda. I just said so long to him and I rode off towards home, half afraid that I’d wake up and find that I’d been dreaming.
I gave half a dollar when I got in and told her that I’d been washing the boss’s car, which was why I was late. She seemed to believe me and gave me a boiled egg and some bread and butter for my tea.
It’s a bloody awful thing to tell a lie to someone you love, and it seems even worse when they believe you. If they doubt you a little bit you don’t feel so bad, and if they don’t believe a word you say it’s even better. You can argue with them in your mind and end up convincing yourself that if that’s the way they are you did the right thing to bullshit them in the first place. You can vindicate yourself to yourself, even though you know you’re nothing but a bloody liar.
When Billy came in I was in the scullery using his razor. He went wild with temper and he’d have had a go at me if Ma hadn’t come out of the kitchen and saved my bacon. She told me off for using his razor though.
‘You’ve enough money to buy one of your own, if you must shave.’
‘He’s got nothing to shave,’ Billy snorted. ‘He’s only a maneen trying to be big.’
‘You’ll get my fist in your gob, Porky,’ I yelled at him, knowing that Ma wouldn’t let us fight.
‘That’s enough, Paddy. Stoppit!’ Ma used a tone that meant just that and I shut up tight. It made me feel a bit better, her having a go at me like that. It sort of evened things up for me lying earlier about the boss’s car. Billy gave me a look that should have melted me on the spot and he went straight out again, slamming the door so hard behind him that it nearly followed him out into the street.
On the way up to see Maureen I stopped in at the pub for a few bottles of stout. I thought I’d have a few. If she expected the same kind of performance that we’d had last night up on The Dodder I’d need something to give me strength.
Redmond was there as usual and I bought a couple of rounds. Then he got up to buy one and he got a bit snotty at the look of surprise on my face.
‘Don’t be so bleedin’ smart!’ he rasped at me out of his crooked mouth. ‘We’re not all workin’ in the insurance game, y’know.’
‘Ah, leave off, Harry. I never said a word.’
‘You didn’t have to,
boy. A nod is as good as a wink to a blind man. When I have it I spend it.’ He began to grin. ‘The only problem is I never shaggin’ well have it.’
‘Haven’t seen you much recent,’ he said, sitting down.
‘I know. I’ve been reciting a bit of poetry.’
He looked at me, knowing full well what I meant. ‘Ah, Holy Jeyzuz, is nothing sacred any more?’
He drank some of the Guinness. ‘Mind you, it’s my own fault. I tell you how to do it, and before you can strain the potatoes every prick in Rathmines’ll be using my approach.’
‘Don’t kid your self,’ I said. ‘You don’t think I’m going to put it around, do you? No fear, that line belongs to you and me.’
He drew breath so hard that he nearly swallowed the butt he was sucking. ‘Jeyzuz! It’s awful decent of you to put me in. Thanks a million.’
He looked up at the ceiling as though he was talking to someone else. ‘Marvellous, isn’t it? Not out of short trousers a bleedin’ week. Honest to Jeyzuz, I don’t know what the world is coming to, I really don’t.’
Redmond was well known and he was accepted as a great fella for taking a rise out of people. Now I had him going strong and he didn’t even realise it. I took a mouthful of stout, swallowed it down and grinned at him. ‘Still, I’m old enough to buy porter for you. Anyway, you needn’t fret. I won’t be poaching on your territory. I’ve only been with the one domestic and that was to help you out.’
‘Golden Ballocks,’ he slammed the glass on the table, ‘that’s a good name for you.’ He started talking to the ceiling again, ‘Doesn’t have to bother with domestic servants, if you don’t mind.’ He looked at me and his eyes were boiling. ‘Listen, Sunshine! Right now, this very fuckin’ minute, I could take you to a couple of mots that’d suck you in and blow you out in bubbles.’
‘Ah, but they’re only oul’ rough, Harry. Sure everyone’s at them.’
‘Will you shut your mouth and give your arse a chance.’ He pushed the glass towards me. ‘Buy a drink for the luvva God.’
I got up willingly to buy another round. I’d buy drink all night for the pleasure of getting Redmond going. When I sat down again I thought I’d go a bit stronger.
I was thinking of Breeda asking me to bite her. She liked to be hurt, and, though I didn’t understand it, I was excited by it, so I built it up before I said a word to Redmond.
‘Have you ever beaten a mot with a cane, Harry?’
I asked him in the same way that I’d ordered a drink and he looked as if he was going to drop his glass.
‘A cane,’ he said it as if he was being tortured. ‘Is that what you’re learning in the insurance office?’
I sipped the stout. ‘Well, have you or haven’t you?’
He didn’t answer me. He didn’t want to admit to something that I might think was odd. It took him a good few seconds to make up his mind. Then all he could do was ask ‘why?’
‘Ah, it’s this mot I know. Loves being beaten with a cane. Terrific-looking mot too.’
His eyes had a faraway look. ‘Jeyzuz, a macochist. God’s gift to man.’
‘What’s that?’
A masochist? Someone gets a thrill out of suffering. You know, opposite to a sadist.’ His voice was vague and crispy dry.
‘Oh yeah, I said, ‘I thought that’s what it was.’
He was back with me now, the faraway look gone out of his eyes. ‘Where’d you come across her then?’
‘A party I went to the other night.’
‘And you’ve beaten her, have you?’ He was breathless at the very idea, and I wouldn’t have gone on with it except that he was such a ruthless bastard when he had somebody on the hook.
‘Sure. You’ve got to give them what the want, haven’t you?’
‘That’s the only snag with the pot-wallopers,’ he complained. ‘They’re so ordinary, you know. Oh, they’ll do it alright. Up to their eyes in muck they’ll do it. No bloody imagination, though. You mention variation on a theme and they think it’s a feckin greyhound or something.’
‘You’ve never had one, then?’
‘Me?’ He hesitated just for a fraction of a second and I knew he was going to start telling bloody lies.
‘Course I have. Married bird, she was. Well off, crazy about me, couldn’t give her enough of it. Never knew an intellectual before, see. Rich eejits. That’s all she’d ever had up her. Loved to be hurted she did, absolutely loved it.’
‘What way, Harry?’
‘Ah now, that’d be tellin’, wouldn’t it.’
I sat back and kept quiet. He was kidding and I knew it, but he didn’t know I was kidding him. That gave me a real lift. You had to get up very early in the day to catch Harry Redmond. He had a bit reputation around Rathmines, so I must have been coming on to have got him going like that. It was the start of a change in our relationship. He no longer dominated the chats we had. Even with Harry, I was beginning to hold my own.
I stood up and emptied my glass. ‘I’m off now, Harry. Don’t want to keep her waiting too long.’
‘Where’s she live, then?’
‘Ah now, that’d be tellin’, wouldn’t it?’ I grinned and went out of the snug. Then, instead of turning right for the street I went left up the passage and just stood there. The door hadn’t stopped swinging after me when he came out through it and without so much as a glance in my direction he went out into the street. I started to whistle, and walked down the passage to where he stood, just outside the door. He turned and his face dropped when he saw that it was me. ‘Bloody stuffy in there,’ he said.
‘I’ll have one for you before I get dressed,’ I said, ‘about twelve o’clock. Okay?’
He didn’t say a word, but he stood there as I put on the cycle clips. He wanted to see which way I was heading. I took my time, messing about with the saddle and all the rest of it, and after a few minutes he went back inside. They I jumped up on the bike and went up Leinster Road before he could get back out to have another look.
Maureen was in a dressing gown when she opened the door and I was hardly inside before she was in my arms. The ice had been broken between us and now it was all straightforward. I felt the heat of her and she was as soft as a mushroom and it was a rich feeling to lie beside her in the bed. I was feeling better for the drinks I’d had with Harry, and the love I felt for Maureen, actually happy to believe that she needed me. It seemed huge, big enough for a fella to relish in his old age.
It seemed so natural to be in the bed with her, even though it was my first time in the house. I didn’t stop for second and wonder what would happen if her Da came back and caught me.
I should have done, I suppose, because by all accounts he was a real hard nut, the sort of man who’d as soon kick you as shake your hand. A lot of oul’fella’s were like that. They pulverised you first and asked what you were doing afterwards. It was a sobering thought, if you thought about it, which I didn’t at the time. I mean, Maureen’s father could have taken a skinny fella like me and pulled me into little pieces without so much as removing his jacket. Anyway, he didn’t show up, so it was just as well I didn’t ruin my evening by worrying.
Maureen seemed to find me a bit different than before. She was giving me a strange look every so often, and after the third time, as we lay into one another, she was acting as though I was someone very special. It was a great feeling, sort of like having power over her and I enjoyed it more than I should have done. It wasn’t right to want to have influence over her. She was a good person and it was bad to want to pull strings and watch her jump. But that’s exactly what I wanted.
Even worse, I was patting myself on the back for being such a smart fella, as if I was responsible for the way I was shaping. It didn’t realise that my ability to take all kinds of situations in my stride was just pure luck. Luck at running into t
he right people at the right time, luck at being born into the flats. Yes, The Hill, the place I hated most on earth. The place where you learned early whether you wanted to or not, the tough dirty cage, where you had to hit and bite and snarl harder and more viciously than the other fella if you ever wanted anything but kicks or bumps for the rest of your life. Just being born there gave you a head start on most people. Rarely did you get a second chance, so the first time you learned something it stuck. It had to stick.
So if I was good at soaking things up it had very little to do with me being the clever cock I thought I was. And if I could bend with the breeze or bounce back from a body blow it was because of where I’d been born and because of the way I’d had to grow up. It was all part of being part of The Hill.
Chapter 11
That Saturday afternoon with Larry and Breeda and the evening in bed with Maureen had really knocked me out, so that when I was on the bus on my way to see Mrs. Kearney it was only the thought of the dollar that was keeping me going.
I was tired and weary and if it hadn’t been for the Guinness I’d had at lunchtime. I’d have fallen asleep where I sat. The Sunday queue was outside The Stella, and I didn’t mind that I wasn’t going to be there. I didn’t feel that I had the energy to chat up a mot, let alone wrestle with her in the seat for the afternoon. I was starting to realise that even though sex was the greatest, too much of it was likely to leave you feeling as though your spine, or your backbone, or whatever it was that keeps your back straight, had been taken away.