And the birds kept on singing

by Simon Bourke

  They stayed like that for some time, the only sound an occasional hiccup from Leanne as she slowly sobered up and the splash of water as the pond-life went about their business. It was getting dark now. Night was falling and they would soon have to go. He’d never been here so late and, although he was pretty confident of finding his way back, he didn’t like the idea of stumbling around the forest like a couple of extras from The Blair Witch Project.

  “Leanne,” he whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “We should go back. It’s getting dark.”

  “Aw, can we not stay a while longer?”

  “I’d love to,” he said, “but if it gets any darker we won’t be able to find our way back.”

  “Oh, Seán,” she sighed, “you’re so sensible.”

  “One of us has to be,” he replied as they untangled their legs and arms and set off down the bridge. When they reached the pond’s edge Leanne daintily hopped off, scooping up the bottle of Schnapps she’d left there for safekeeping.

  “Come on, let’s polish off the rest of this right now!”

  There was at least a third left, but it didn’t matter now how drunk he got. The pressure was off.

  “Okay,” he said, snapping the bottle from her and taking a healthy glug of its contents. “Your turn.”

  They went back and forth for the next five minutes until, with one dramatic tilt of her head, Leanne tipped the last few droplets into her mouth and declared the game at an end.

  “Happy now?” Seán asked, eager to make their way back.

  “Not yet,” she replied, taking his hand and pulling him away from the pond towards a dryer patch of land. She laid her jacket on the ground and sat on it.

  “Come on,” she said, with a look of serious intent.

  Seán instantly knew what she meant, but he hesitated. He hadn’t been expecting this and he wasn’t sure if he was ready, but there was no time to think, or to consider how ready he might be. He joined her on the forest floor and allowed himself to be pushed onto his back. She kissed him, more lustily this time, and her hands began working on the fly of his jeans.

  “Wait, wait,” she said.

  Had she changed her mind, and would he be relieved or disappointed if she had? No, it was still happening. She’d merely shifted the focus of her attention, moving away from his face, down, down. He felt his flies being opened and then a moment’s hesitation. What was she doing down there? He dared not ask. He felt her hands on his belt. She unbuckled him, undid his button and with some difficulty yanked down his trousers and boxers. His throbbing cock sprang out, happy to be free, ready for whatever might come its way.

  ”Ooh, Seány. Look. At. You.”

  It was the first time he had ever been exposed in front of a girl. He felt helpless and empowered all at once.

  “Well?” he asked, wondering what came next.

  “Well indeed,” she replied and began nuzzling his crotch, taking care not to engage his penis just yet. Instead teasing him with kisses and caresses around his lower stomach and upper thighs.

  Seán lay back, waiting. Was he getting a blow-job, then? It looked like it. He had been wanked off by girls in the past but he had never been given a blow-job. Being a fifteen-year-old boy, he worried about losing his virginity, but as Leanne wrapped her lips around his quivering member he declared himself happy – first blow-job at fifteen, that wasn’t bad, right?

  Pegs had told him about them, and how magnificent they were, but nothing could have prepared him for what followed. It was as if his penis was being bathed in golden nectar. Every nerve-ending tingled with pleasure as his phallus was showered with more care and affection than even he had ever given it. He had no idea what was going on down there, but it felt like she was equipped with more than just a tongue and a pair of lips. She’d clearly done this before. This thought filled him with anguish, but he quickly pushed it away; she was with him now and that was all that mattered. She began massaging his balls, gently squeezing them and cupping them in her hands as she worked her mouth up and down his cock. This was too much; it was sensory overload. An orgasm began to build in his pelvis, uncontrollable, unstoppable. His moans of pleasure, growing louder by the second, and the involuntary bucking of his hips should have warned Leanne, but she spluttered in protest as he released his load with a feral cry, sending several birds fluttering into the night sky.

  “For fuck’s sake, Seán,” she said, allowing the rest of his seed to squirt harmlessly onto the forest floor. “You could have warned me!”

  Seán pumped his cock with his hand a couple of times, making sure it was completely drained, and then exhaled dramatically.

  “Was I supposed to?” he asked.

  “Yes, you were supposed to!” Leanne replied, rinsing her mouth out with the dregs of his can of cider.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realise,” he said, putting an arm around her. “That was brilliant, though.”

  Leanne’s pout disappeared. “Glad you enjoyed it,” she said primly.

  There was a brief silence. Seán wondered if he should repay the favour. He didn’t know how these things worked.

  “Should I do you now?” he asked.

  Leanne smiled at him, a sympathetic smile. “Aw, Seán, you’re so cute.”

  “So will I, then?”

  “No, you’re okay. Maybe next time.”

  “Okay.”

  He hastily pulled up his boxers, not wanting Leanne to see his once-proud penis reduced to its dormant state, and wiped the dirt off her jacket before handing it to her. He watched her put it on, smiling to himself as she patted away the dirt from its sleeves. She was so beautiful it almost hurt him to look at her. And she had just sucked him off.

  “What?” she asked as he stood there staring at her.

  “Nothing,” he replied, taking her in his arms.

  He held her tight. There was nothing sexual or sensual about this embrace; he just wanted to be close to her, to feel the warmth of her body upon his.

  He released her, stared into her deep green eyes and kissed her softly on the cheek. He was in love, of that there was no doubt. He would have to tell her, but not tonight. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after.

  “Come on, we’d best get back,” he said, taking her hand and leading her through the bushes.

  29

  A fire had been lit; a vast, all-consuming wall of heat and energy. Bolstered with tyres, it burned high and wide, its warmth so intense that no one could stand within ten feet of it. The dynamic of the party had changed now. Everyone was gathered around the fire, staring solemnly at the crackling wood as they ruminated on the future, the past, anything but the present. Occasionally someone rose to throw another carefully-sourced bushel onto the inferno; this fire would burn long into the night. Music still played but it was a background noise, a means of maintaining the ambience. They still drank, they still partied. But it was more restrained now; the wildness had left them. Ginty had succumbed to his excesses and was asleep in Roisín Prendergast’s lap. One of the larger girls in their class, she stroked his hair sweetly like a nurse tending to a soldier’s wounds. Pegs had made his acquaintance with one of Leanne’s companions and was busily undressing her from the inside out – or at least that was how it appeared. Murt sat alone by the edge of the fire, can in his hand, staring blankly into the embers.

  “Where will we sit?” Seán asked Leanne as they returned to the fray.

  “Let’s not sit,” she said. “Let’s dance.”

  She opened her arms in invitation.

  “It’s not really dancing music, Leanne,” he said as Biggie Smalls recounted his days in the New York State Penitentiary.

  “It doesn’t matter, come on,” she said, grabbing him. “We’ll do our own little dance, a nice, slow romantic one.”

  Seán looked around. All sorts of erotic behaviour was taking place,
no one would notice a pair of slow-dancing romancers. He put his hands around her waist as she draped hers around his neck. She rested her head on his shoulder and they began to sway slowly from side to side. Leanne’s hands clung to his back, holding him tight, pulling him to her. Only half an hour ago she had serviced his needs; but he was a young man in his sexual prime and his loins awoke once more; ready to answer their master’s call. He pushed himself against her, hoping that this simple gesture would inform her of his condition, but she scarcely noticed, humming happily, oblivious to his needs. He peered over her head, scanning the area for somewhere quiet but still within range of the fire. Perhaps if he casually moved them to a more secluded spot, his desires could be sated once more? He surveyed the scene, calculating distances and estimating privacy. There were youngsters strewn everywhere, like a battlefield the morning after a bloody skirmish. Lots of faces were familiar to him; friends, acquaintances, kids starting out in life, just like himself, innocence everywhere he looked, and Alice. Alice Tiernan. Alice?!! What the fuck was she doing here? She stood in the shadows, flanked by a couple of girls he didn’t know, all sipping nervously on indeterminate alcopops. They appeared to have just arrived, looking fresh-faced, unsullied and entirely out of keeping with the realm of decay and devastation which lay before them. Seán hastily looked away, hoping they hadn’t been spotted, and tried to guide Leanne further from the fire where they wouldn’t be seen.

  “No, Seán,” she moaned, resisting. “Stay near the fire where it’s warm.”

  “Your sister is here,” he said flatly.

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “She is; she’s over there with a couple of her friends.”

  Leanne jolted into life, peering round Seán’s back for affirmation.

  “Where? I can’t see her. You’d better not be joking.”

  “It’s not a joke. I saw her over there a second ago.”

  “What’s she doing here? She doesn’t even drink!”

  “How the fuck would I know?”

  “Oh, God, you’re right,” Leanne said with horror. “I can see her. Come on, quick, we have to hide!”

  She bent double and scuttled towards the dark edges of the woods. Seán allowed himself to be dragged to a safe distance before stopping her. “I thought you’d told her,” he said.

  “I haven’t! I was waiting for the exams to be over. I didn’t want to upset her during them. Do you think she saw us?”

  Seán looked back to where Alice was stood. A couple of boys had joined her group and she was enjoying their attentions.

  “You have to tell her now,” he said, turning back to Leanne.

  Her shoulders sagged in despair. “I’ll go talk to her,” she sighed, “but you stay out of sight, okay?”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t be coming anywhere near ye.”

  “Okay,” she said taking a deep breath and collecting herself. “Am I very drunk?”

  “You’ll be all right. Go on.”

  She paused one more time, turned to kiss him and then tottered off in the direction of her sister. He watched her go, fearful; not for Alice, but for himself. She might try to talk Leanne round, tell her what a bad person he was. It was possible that he had just spent his last moment with the love of his life. He searched her out in the crowd but couldn’t see her. For a second he wondered if she’d run away rather than divulge her shameful secret, but no; there she was, striding through the empty beer cans and the unconscious teens to where her younger sister stood. He could just make out Alice’s face as she saw Leanne approach, a mixture of surprise and fear: Don’t tell Mammy. The last thing Leanne would do was tell Mammy.

  It was out of his hands now. Sitting here trying to lip-read or decipher body language would do him no good. Keeping a close eye on them, he walked over to Murt and joined him in silent contemplation. Murt grunted a greeting, wordlessly offering him a can. Seán popped it open, continuing to watch the Tiernan girls from the corner of his eye. As far as he could tell, things appeared to be going well so far. Alice chatted away enthusiastically to her older sister, probably about her exams and how easy they’d been. They’d moved away from Alice’s friends to a quieter spot, somewhere more suitable for breaking earth-shattering news, but he could still see them. Alice now saw him too. Their eyes met, hers harsh and unblinking, his passive and slightly pitying. Leanne had her back to Seán, but he could tell from the movements of her shoulders, of her arms, that she was attempting to impart sensitive information. Alice didn’t seem interested. Her gaze was fixed on Seán, the slow steady stare of a woman scorned. He hastily looked away, feeling that the less he antagonised her, the better at this stage.

  “Having fun, Murt?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Murt sneered. “A right laugh.”

  From his exalted position on top of the pecking order, Seán felt a smidgen of sympathy for his erstwhile best friend. It couldn’t be much fun sitting here on your own while, all around you, bodies writhed and contorted in unison. Had he even tried to get off with someone? There were plenty of girls he could easily have bagged. But no, he’d just sat here drinking like a miserable shit until everyone was either spoken for, out cold or gone home. That was his problem, though, not Seán’s. He wasn’t going to be dragged down with him. As soon as Leanne had sorted things out with her little sister, he’d leave him to his soul-searching. They sat in silence, Seán staring straight ahead and Murt looking down at the ground, further apart than ever before.

  “Have fun with yer wan, then?” Murt asked sourly.

  “Yeah, man, a great time.”

  “Well for some.”

  Seán was hardly listening to him now, though; there’d been some movement where the Tiernan sisters had been conversing. He’d been afraid to stare but now, unable to resist, he stole a quick glance. They sat cross-legged in the grass, chatting and laughing away like, well like sisters really. It was all settled. Everyone was happy. There’d be more blow-jobs and who knew what else for Seán. He tried to catch Leanne’s eye, waiting for a sign, but a curt shake of her head told him that, although the two sisters were now on excellent terms, it wasn’t quite time for a group hug. Warning heeded, he left Murt to his misery and went to check on the rest of his friends. Ginty was still asleep, curled up in Roisín’s arms with a happy smile on his face.

  “Aw, look at the happy couple.”

  “Oh, hiya, Seán,” she replied, cradling Ginty in her arms.

  “A few too many shandies, eh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, you look after him, Roisín, ya hear me?”

  “Oh, I will, Seán; don’t you worry about that.”

  And she would, too. Poor Ginty. He left them to it and went to see if he could locate Pegs, but he was nowhere to be found. The last reported sighting placed him at the edge of the woods, trying to coerce his new friend into the darkness. Seán was sure he’d succeeded; Pegs could be very persuasive when he needed to be. He’d almost certainly offer a blow-by-blow account of his exploits the following day and expect the same in turn from Seán. This time, even little Ginty might have a story to tell. All things considered, it had been a fine night indeed for the lads – with the exception of Murt, who continued to sit by the fire scowling at anyone who crossed his path.

  Seán continued to wander, occasionally stopping for a chat or a drink but never taking his eyes off the two sisters in the shadows. As ridiculous as it sounded, he missed her. She’d only been gone an hour, but he couldn’t wait for her to come back just so he could be around her once more, holding her and feeling her body pressed against his. Without her he felt incomplete, as miserable and alone as Murt sitting by the fire. He would have to remain patient, though. This was the final obstacle they had to overcome, and once it had been cleared they were free to do whatever they liked for the rest of the summer and beyond. The thought comforted him. He sat down with a couple of his classmates
and joined in a sing-song. He didn’t like the song, some awful cheese-fest from an American punk band, but it felt good to sing. One of the boys had a guitar, and someone else had fashioned a set of drums from some empty boxes. Seán was content to be a backing singer, mumbling along during the verses and then blasting out the chorus with everyone else. They were good people, his classmates; he didn’t get along with all of them but he didn’t hate any of them. He was lucky really, to be here with them having a sing-song, everyone drunk and stoned. Really, his life wasn’t that bad. He was happy living with his grandparents, and went to bed every night feeling safe, secure and loved. That sick, nervous feeling in his stomach had disappeared as soon as he’d moved out of home. With life on an even keel, who knew what was possible? Maybe he’d try harder in school, even get into college, the first in his family to achieve the feat. Why not? There was nothing stopping him. The kid playing the guitar switched chords. Seán recognised this one; he loved that band as a kid. He put an arm around Joey Costello and sang as if his life depended on it.

  “There you are!”

  It was Leanne. She stood over him, smiling expectantly. As much as he’d enjoyed polluting the air with his caterwauling he knew where his priorities lay.

  “Well, how did it go?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, I suppose.”

  “You’re still alive, anyway.”

  “I am, but it’ll take a lot of fixing.”

  “Well, I’m willing to make peace with her if she is with me.”

  “Oh, that’s not going to happen; there’s no chance of her ever forgiving you.”

  “Oh well,” sighed Seán, “we’ll just have to find someone else to be bridesmaid.”

  “Ha ha, very sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she said, digging him in the ribs.

  He poked her back but then stopped, unsure of how to proceed. “Can we act like a couple while she’s here?”