by Simon Bourke
On this night, however, one of the biggest in the club’s history, Noel couldn’t get a word out of his grandson. He lambasted Giggs, cursed Conte and declared Davids the dirtiest player ever to lace up a pair of boots. Meanwhile Seán sat in complete silence, barely taking in the game. At half-time, United were one down and lucky to be still in the tie. Noel muted the telly and turned to the boy.
“Is everything all right, Seán? You’re awful quiet.”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Granddad, thanks,” he replied glumly.
“They could still come back. Fergie will give ‘em a right tellin’ off at half-time, wait and see,” Noel reasoned.
“Hopefully, Granddad.” In all honesty he couldn’t give a shit about the match, and that scared him. He loved United, lived for them and wanted them to win the Champions League more than anything in the world, but he would gladly have seen them relegated to Division Four if it meant seeing her again. The only way he could see her, though, was by continuing his studying sessions with her sister Alice, the girl he’d lied about to impress his friends. She thought he was a nice, innocent boy who needed help with his maths; she had no idea what he was really like. If she ever found out...well, it didn’t bear thinking about. She would hate him. They all would: Mrs. Tiernan, Alice’s brother and even Leanne. He would be that weird, twisted kid who’d come to study at their house and spread vicious rumours about their daughter; a sicko, a sociopath.
The sensible thing would be to cancel their study sessions, all of them; that way the whole thing would eventually die down. But he needed her. Without her there was no Leanne. He needed to see Alice and for their study sessions to continue. He needed to swallow his guilt and act as if nothing had happened. Their next session was due tomorrow night, but it was to take place at his grandparents’ house, not the Tiernans’. Could he suggest switching the study session back to her place? No, it was too late for that; his nan had been frantically preparing for their visitor since he’d come back the previous night. He couldn’t disappoint her like that. What then? Suggest another session in the Tiernan’s house on Friday night? He couldn’t do that either. He didn’t want Alice or indeed Leanne thinking he was a sad loser with nothing to do on a Friday evening. That ruled out Saturday, too. Sunday? It was worth the risk; imagine how impressed the Tiernans would be when they saw him arrive with a bag-load of books on a Sunday evening. He’d tell them he came straight from Mass. Before he could arrange anything, though, he would have to find out a bit more about Leanne and whether she would be there on Sunday evening. It wouldn’t do to turn up on an evening that she wasn’t there. The idea of being under the same roof as her for an entire evening lifted his spirits considerably. He didn’t know what he’d do when he saw her again, but that would sort itself out when the time came.
The teams were coming back out for the second half. As Noel turned the volume back up, Seán let out a cry of: “Come on, United!”
Noel looked over at him with a grin. “That’s the spirit, Seán. We’ll win this yet.”
18
“Your brother and sister seem pretty cool.”
He delivered the line as nonchalantly as he could; just making conversation, that’s all. All day he had agonised over how to broach the subject. He didn’t want to make it too obvious, sensing that Alice was paranoid about her sister’s ability to enchant every boy she met. The paranoia was justified; he for one had never been more enchanted.
“Ugh, they’re awful. Well, my brother’s not too bad, I suppose.”
“Awful? In what way?”
“Leanne strolls around like she’s royalty. They do everything for her. ‘I can’t pick you up right now, love, I’ve got to bring Leanne to swimming.’ ‘Turn that music down, Leanne is studying for her Leaving Cert.’ ‘Did you eat Leanne’s yogurt? You know they’re the only ones she can have,’ and so on. I swear the rest of us are invisible to them half the time.”
Seán nodded, doing his best to appear sympathetic, but his mind was elsewhere. She was studying for her Leaving Cert; this meant she was probably seventeen or eighteen. And she swam. He pictured her in a swimming costume, but quickly forced the thought out of his head. There was a time and a place for thoughts like that – maths class, maybe. She had dietary needs which involved special yogurts; he really had no opinion on that.
“Couldn’t someone else bring her to swimming? Gerard, or her boyfriend, perhaps?”
“Ha, boyfriend, her? None of the poor fellas she brings home lasts five minutes before they’re out the door. There was one guy, Rónan, she was seeing for a few months. He was lovely; got on with everyone, even Daddy, who thinks no one is good enough for his princess. Then out of nowhere he was gone; no explanation, nothing. Too nice, that was his problem.”
“Sounds like she’s a bit of a handful, your sister?”
“Oh, you’ve no idea.”
He decided that he’d garnered enough information for one night and allowed the conversation to move away from Leanne and back to their schoolwork. Further questions about her older sister would arouse Alice’s suspicions, and he needed to keep her on side. The books were opened and they quickly got back into the swing of things. He couldn’t help but marvel at how much he was learning.
“I have to say, Alice, I’d be lost without you.” He meant it, too. Until a couple of days ago he was a dead cert to fail his maths exam, but now he had a fighting chance.
She smiled bashfully, flushing slightly.
“Ah, you’re a great pupil.”
“I’m serious, though,” he continued. “I literally hadn’t a fuckin’ clue until we started doing this, and now I’m beginning to think I might even pass the bastard!”
“Pass?” she jibed. “I’m expecting a B at the very least, Mr. McLoughlin.”
Seán chuckled at her joke, immediately feeling guilty. Why did she have to have such a hot sister? Why did she have to be so nice? And why was he such a stupid cunt? His lies reverberated around his head once more. He had betrayed this sweet, considerate girl, and in return she was helping him pass his exams. What a charmer.
“What do you want to with yourself when you finish school?” he asked her. “A teacher? You’re a natural, y’know.”
“Really? Thanks.” This time her embarrassment had a forced air to it. “I’ve never thought of becoming a teacher, to be honest. I love science, especially biology, so I was thinking I might be a biochemist. The points are pretty high for the courses I’d like to do, so I’ll have to wait and see.”
Points? Courses? Seán looked at her as if she were mad. How could anyone be thinking that far ahead when they hadn’t even negotiated the Junior Cert? This girl might only live a few doors away, but academically they were worlds apart.
“And you?” she asked.
“I plan to finish my Junior Cert, get pissed, and spend the whole summer sleeping in till midday,” he replied, grinning widely.
She looked at him uncertainly, realised he was serious and matched his grin.
“Do you get drunk often? My parents would go mad if I drank!”
“Ah, no, not that often, just every now and again. Once our exams are over, though, we’re all gonna get hammered.”
“Where will ye go? Do the pubs serve ye?”
“No,” he said, laughing at the thought. “We’ll just get drink from the off-license and go up the woods.”
“Oh, cool,” she said longingly.
There was a brief silence, during which Seán considering asking her to join them; then he regained his senses. He had to keep things as formal as possible.
“What will you do when you’ve finished your exams?”
She sighed in the manner of someone who had hoped this question wouldn’t arise but knew that it was inevitable.
“Do I have to tell you?” she asked, scrunching her face up in embarrassment.
“Go on, it can’t be th
at bad.”
“Oh, it’s bad.”
He said nothing and waited for her to continue.
“We’re supposed to have a double celebration, me and Leanne. The whole family are going to go out for dinner; aunties, uncles, cousins, grandparents – the whole lot. I’m dreading it; they’re all so serious. It’ll be ‘Now, Alice, what are your plans for the future?’ ‘Our Mary got nine As in her Junior Cert, do you think you’ll get the same?’ They’re unbearable!”
Seán had to laugh, firstly at Alice’s impressions of her relations, which reminded him of something from Monty Python, and secondly at how ludicrous the whole thing sounded.
“Jaysus, that’s fuckin’ mad. Does everyone in your family go to college?”
“Pretty much.”
“I don’t think anyone in our family has ever gone to college.”
“Really? How come?”
“Dunno, it’s not like we’re thick or anything; we just can’t be arsed, I suppose.”
“Well, you’re definitely not thick, Seán.”
“Try telling that to my teachers and my stepfather.”
It came out more bitterly than he’d intended and she picked up on it immediately.
“You don’t get on with your stepdad, then?” she asked softly.
“Not really.”
“Sorry, Seán. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”
“Nah, it’s just there’s nothing to talk about when it comes to him.”
“Okay, I’ll drop it so, yeah?”
“Whatever you like.”
They continued studying, Seán markedly quieter. Who was he kidding, sitting here with an honours student, trying to pretend he gave a fuck? This wasn’t him. He was the kid who sat in the back of the class whiling away the time until the bell rang. He wouldn’t be going to college in a few years, chances were he wouldn’t even do his Leaving, so what was the point? He might as well just give in now and save himself the effort.
Alice tried to cajole a smile out of him but it was no use. She should never have asked about his stepfather. They’d been getting on so well until she’d put her foot in it. Their blossoming friendship had been damaged beyond repair, and it was all her fault. This time it was she who clock-watched, and when Patricia came to put a halt to proceedings she was packed and ready to leave within seconds. They weren’t finished with each other yet, though.
“You’re to walk Alice home now, Seán, do you hear me? Can’t have a young girl roaming the streets at this hour,” Patricia instructed with a sly wink in Alice’s direction.
The two-minute walk from one front door to the other could hardly be described as ‘roaming the streets’, but Seán knew better than to argue.
It wasn’t quite dark outside but a gloomy pall had descended on the estate. Curtains had been drawn, lights turned on and families settled in for the night; except the Connollys, of course, who never shut their curtains. Whenever you walked past their house you could look right in at them; Mr. Connolly marooned in his armchair, laughing away at the television, Mrs. Connolly sitting across from him reading her book. Had it never occurred to them to close their curtains? Did they have any? Maybe they wanted people to watch? Exhibitionists. Seán glanced in at their house as they walked past, but the living-room was empty, the lights were off and no one was home. Maybe they were having an ‘early night’. Christ, imagine Mr. and Mrs. Connolly going at it? Fucking hell. He thought about saying this to Alice but she wouldn’t get the joke, would probably think he was a pervert. They walked in silence along the footpath. An owl hooted in the distance, a car misfired, and neither of them spoke.
“I’d better see you in safe, I suppose,” he said when they reached Alice’s house.
He could have left her at the gate, but a sense of duty compelled him to see out his task to the bitter end.
“Thank you,” Alice whispered as she eased open the gate and closed it shut behind them.
She walked to the front door and gently tapped on the glass partition.
“You don’t have a key?”
“No. Dad says it would only encourage us to stay out late.”
“Right.”
It was only when he saw the outline of a lithe figure approach the door that he realised what was happening. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts about Alice and what she must have made of him that he had temporarily forgotten about her sister. Even when his grandmother had told him to escort Alice home, he hadn’t thought of the possibilities it presented.
“Oh hello, little studiers. All done for the night, then?”
There she was, fresh-faced and angelic, all ready for bed. She wore a green T-shirt, faded and slightly tattered, and a pair of pink pyjama bottoms. In spite of her attire, she didn’t seem in the least bit embarrassed. Alice brushed past her without a word, then checked herself and turned to Seán. “Thanks, Seán.”
“No bother, Alice,” he said warmly. The previous hour was now forgotten; this was the suave, smooth-talking chick-magnet she had met on their first encounter. Alice gave him an odd look and once more turned to go.
“Wait!” Seán called after her. “When can we study again, do you think? Sunday night, perhaps?”
“Well – okay. Here at seven?”
“Perfect,” he replied. “See you then.”
“Okay. Bye, then.”
“Bye, Alice.”
She scurried upstairs, leaving Seán alone with Leanne.
“Well, I’d better be off then, I suppose,” he said, not moving a muscle.
“Okay, Seán. See you on Sunday,” she replied, smiling.
“See you, Leanne.”
“Bye, bye,” she said, fixing him with that gaze again.
He turned to leave, heart pounding in his chest; his legs felt as if someone else was controlling them. Reaching the gate, he unlocked it with shaking hands and left the premises. He started to close it after him, glancing in the direction of the house once more; there she was, standing in her nightclothes, staring at him.
“Night, now,” she said softly.
“Night, Leanne,” he replied.
He fumbled awkwardly with the gate, looking away for a moment as he struggled with the clasp. When his eyes returned to the door she was gone. He stared at where she’d been, willing her to return. The gate finally clanked shut. Sean checked it once more and headed for home. He needed a lie-down.
19
“Someone got out of bed on the right side this morning!”
Patricia stood and watched as her grandson shimmied round the kitchen, munching on a slice of toast, while straightening his tie with his free hand. Bland pop music crackled out from his grandparents’ old radio, a teenage heart-throb insisting that there was no other girl for him in the whole wide world. Seán swayed and sashayed in time to the beat as the song reached a predictable crescendo before fading out in a sea of impossibly high falsettos. One song segued into another, an old Motown number, an up-tempo one. He seamlessly changed pace, humming and whistling, bopping and grooving; he was John Travolta and this was Friday Morning Fever.
Even Noel, who rarely communicated before midday, was moved to comment.
“Feck it, Seány, what’s got into you at all?”
“Jeez lads, can’t a fella be in good form round here without getting the Spanish inquisition?” Seán protested as he drank the last of his tea.
Patricia looked at her husband knowingly before addressing the boy. “Who or what might be responsible for this improvement in mood, I wonder?”
“No idea what you’re talking about, Nan,” he grinned.
Let her think what she wanted; he was finished telling stories. She’d be delighted with herself now; not only had she paired him up with a suitable study partner, she’d also helped him find a new girlfriend. It had never been her intention, but her grandson
could do a lot worse. The Tiernans were a lovely family, she’d always thought so. That little Alice, what a sweetheart. And poor Seán was so quiet, a real introvert – why shouldn’t his gran help him out? By the look of things, Seán was smitten. How long had it taken? Two or three nights? Made for each other, they were. Perhaps in years to come, when they were wed, she’d regale family members with the story of how she’d brought them together over their schoolbooks.
“I’d better be off. Thanks for the breakfast, Nan,” Seán said, kissing his grandmother on the cheek. “See ye later.”
“Bye, my love,” cooed Patricia, already planning the wedding.
He left her to her fantasies, he had some thinking of his own to do. The previous night, when he’d gone to bed, he’d been sure that Leanne fancied him. The way she’d looked at him and said ‘Night, now’ had seemed coy and suggestive. But now, in the cold light of day he wasn’t so sure. Was it really possible that such a goddess might be interested in him? What could that angel from heaven possibly want with a boy like him? A fifteen-year old, doing his Junior Cert? She could have been going out with lads that had their own cars, lads at college, lads who worked and got served in pubs. Maybe she had gone out with all those lads and grown sick of them? It was possible. Maybe she wanted something different, a younger man? Well, here he was, ready and waiting. And fuck it, he wasn’t without his charm. His nan and his aunties constantly told him how good-looking he was. ‘A little heart-breaker’, that’s what they called him. So what if they were related to him? They wouldn’t have said if it weren’t true. Anyway, loads of girls fancied him; there was always young wans giving him the eye. It wasn’t his fault he was too shy to approach them. He preferred it when they came right up and asked, ‘Want to go off with me?’ ‘Sure, why not?’ he’d reply, even if he didn’t fancy them – it was all experience at the end of the day.