by Peter Murphy
She really wanted to talk about that part of her life that the nuns had molded. She felt it was important to bring it up but he didn’t and moved along to asking questions about her father and her mother.
Being a parent was a lot harder than anyone ever said, especially her parents who just accepted everything that happened to them with a stoicism born of faith and hope and fear.
If she had only known what she knew now, she never . . .
But it wouldn’t have made a difference. Jerry had assured her that she wouldn’t get pregnant just doing it once and she’d had no reason to doubt him. He was in university, after all, and his father was in the Dáil, and her father called him “Mister Boyle.”
For a while it was like a fairy tale but that didn’t last. She’d liked the wedding and everyone fussing over her. But afterwards, when it was just her and Jerry, and her growing belly, it all turned into a nightmare of bickering and him storming out while she cried herself to sleep. Each time made the next one worse until it became a chasm between them.
His mother spoke to both of them and told them to mend their ways but Jerry didn’t listen to her. It just made him want to avoid her, and Jacinta could only imagine how he was spending the time he was away from her. When he didn’t even come home one night, she broke down and confided in her sisters. They nodded and consoled her but she couldn’t help feel that they couldn’t wait to be alone and tell each other that they had seen it coming all along.
There was no point in dwelling on all of that so she went up to wake Danny and to retrieve two twenty-pound notes from the envelope she had hidden in the linen closet. There wasn’t much left but there was enough for today—and maybe two more after that. She closed the door quickly as Danny emerged from his room looking bedraggled.
“And where were you ‘til all-hours of the morning?”
“Out.”
“Where? And what were you doing?”
“I was just out with my friends. Leave me alone, will ya?”
“You mean you were out with the drug addicts.”
He looked at her like he was totally bored—with her and with anything else she might say—and brushed past her.
“Don’t walk away from me like that.”
“Like what? I’m just going to get something to eat.”
“Isn’t it well for you that you have a mother that makes sure there’s always food to put in front of you? Maybe you should think about that the next time you’re out getting high.”
“And you should think about how I let you live in my house. Think about that the next time you’re out getting drunk with your sisters.”
**
“Well it’s about time you showed up,” her sisters greeted her with relief.
“I’m sorry. I was having trouble with Danny. Let me get you all a drink.” She pulled a crisp twenty and put it on the table in front of them. “And there’s another one, too, for when that one is gone.”
“Do you see that, Martin? That’s how we look after each other in this family.”
“That’s right. We look after each other and not go running off to Canada.”
Martin ignored them and turned to Jacinta. “So how is Danny?”
Jacinta settled herself into the space her sisters had reserved for her and lit a cigarette. She would have to buy another pack; she had only four left. She knew where the others had gone—he had been into her purse, too, but he still didn’t know about the envelope. She had a plan for when that was gone, too. Granny’s best China, and her silverware, carefully wrapped and stored in boxes in the spare room, under a mound of laundry.
“He’s worrying the life out of me, Martin.”
“Don’t be bothering her with all of that,” his sisters interrupted as the drinks arrived. “We’re here to get away from all of that for a little while. Cheers, Jacinta. Cheers.”
“Cheers,” Jacinta agreed, delighted to be the center of their warm attention. Her house had grown so cold to her; Jerry was getting lost inside of himself and Danny’s indifference was chilling her heart a little more each day. It was so nice to be with those who loved her unconditionally, even if it only lasted as long as her money held out.
“So?” She turned to Martin. “How was London? Did you meet anyone that tickled your fancy?”
“Him? Are you joking? He’d be afraid of even getting close to a real woman.”
“He’d piss his pants.”
“Ah, leave him alone, will you?”
They all deferred, retracting their claws as they sat back. Jacinta ruled the roost, for now.
“London was great, thanks for asking.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“You have, haven’t you? You’ve met someone?”
“So what if I have? It’s just a summer thing.” He paused to sip his pint before continuing. “I’ve decided. I’m going to go to Canada after I graduate.”
“I thought it was New York you were going to?”
“I changed my mind.”
“She’s one of them, isn’t she? My little brother has fallen for a Canadian?” She knew that Martin didn’t like when they pried in his business but she couldn’t help herself. It was how they were together.
“So what’s going on with you and Danny? Did he get his results yet?”
Jacinta knew what he was doing but went along with it. “Of course he did—with honors in history, too.”
“That’s fantastic,” Martin raised his glass toward their sullen sisters. “To Danny!”
“To Danny,” they responded insipidly, jealous of the bond he shared with Jacinta.
“Yes, my Danny is a good scholar but he’d be a lot better if only Jerry would make him stay at home and do his studying.”
“Oh leave him alone, Jass. He passed—after everything—and now I’m sure he’ll settle down and get his Leaving Cert, too.”
“Do you really think so Martin? You’re not just saying that? I’ve been getting so worried about him. He’s getting awful lippy lately and I swear to God that he’s taking drugs, too.”
“Oh I doubt it, Jass. Why do you think that?”
“He’s never at home and looks very shifty when I do catch up with him. He never lets me see his eyes when I’m talking with him.”
“That’s a sure sign,” the sisters agreed and nodded knowingly at each other. “It’s no wonder when you look at his father. I’m surprised that he’s not an alcoholic, too.”
Martin glared at them until they stopped and turned back to Jacinta. “Why do you say that?”
“He’s hanging around with those hippie kids—you know the ones I mean, that Skelton brat and the tramps that hang around with him.”
“Oh them, they’re okay.”
“Do you know them?”
“I do, yeah, and you’ve nothing to worry about. Johnny’s a good guy. He’s at art school.”
“Well in that case would you ever have a word with him and tell him to leave my son alone?”
“Jass, I’m sure there’s no reason for you to worry but, if it would put your mind at ease, I could drop by and have a word with Danny, if you like?”
“I don’t know, Martin. You know how his father gets. I’d be afraid there’d be a row.”
“Well could you get Danny to phone me, then?”
“I would but what if Jerry were to find out?”
Jacinta had no intention of passing the message along. She was happy with the distance that had grown between her brother and her son. She didn’t want Danny to have anybody else to turn to until he let her back into his life. And she didn’t really want Martin around right now in case he noticed the boxes in the spare room. And if Danny asked, she’d tell him that Martin was busy with his own life. She’d tell him that it was something he would have to learn: that no one loved him like she did. No one, not even that young trollop who was probably dropping her drawers for him after getting him high.
“So how’s Jerry?” her sisters asked and sat forward gri
nning like hyenas.
Jacinta lit up again and leaned toward them. “Wait ‘til I tell you the latest. He fell out of bed this morning, at half past eleven, and tells me that he is depressed and that he wants the doctor to give him pills.”
“Pills? He’d be better off getting a job.”
“Why would he need to do that? Haven’t you still got all that money the old bitch left you?”
Jacinta did nothing to dispel their illusions. She wanted them to believe that, no matter how bad things were, she was far better off than any of them could dream of.
“It’s not for the money,” she reminded them and finished her drink. She wanted them to know that she was now a part of a higher class who never discussed things like that. She waited for her point to register and nodded to the barman. “It’s more the principal of the thing,” she explained patiently. “Jerry was a victim of politics, you know, because of his father.”
Her sisters nodded in sympathy and drained their own glasses. “It must be terrible for you.”
They settled into a brooding silence, each with their own thoughts, until the barman brought their fresh drinks.
“Well, we all have our burdens to bear, I suppose.”
“Well Jacinta is certainly bearing hers well.”
“And she looks great, too. Doesn’t she?”
“She looks gorgeous. She puts the rest of us to shame. I’m dead jealous.”
They all agreed as Jacinta glowed a little. She knew their affections were easily won, and lost, but she had to take it where she could find it and smiled all around as she raised her fresh glass. “Cheers!”
Martin didn’t smile back. His eyes had never left her face, like he was trying to look all the way inside of her. “Getting back to Danny,” he tried in a soft voice.
“Never mind Danny,” his sisters rebuked him. “He’s more than capable of looking after himself. It’s Jacinta that you should be worried about. She’s the one who is family, after all.”
“And what is Danny? He’s family, too.”
“Okay, okay Martin,” Jacinta conceded. “You’re like a dog with a bone. Come over on Saturday afternoon. I’ll make sure Danny is there and we can pretend that you just dropped in.”
“And what about Jerry?”
“He’ll be down in the pub. You won’t have to worry about him. Are you happy now?”
Martin just nodded, finished his pint, and got up to leave.
“Wait,” his sister Gina called out. “It’s Ma’s birthday next week and we should all pitch in to get her something.”
“Sure,” Martin agreed and reached for his wallet. “How much are we throwing in?”
“A tenner each.”
“A tenner,” Martin smiled as he pulled his last two fives from his wallet. “Here. Who should I give it to?” He asked Brenda and Linda but they both just looked to their drinks as they nodded toward Jacinta.
**
Martin had smiled as he walked down the street. It had turned out to be a very expensive day for Jacinta. He knew she had money stashed somewhere and he knew it couldn’t last forever. And he hadn’t wanted to know where it came from. That way he wouldn’t have to lie to Davies.
He never did get around to seeing Danny until after the thing in the church and by then it was too late. He and Danny were never the same again. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get through to him. It was like Danny didn’t trust anybody anymore.
Then, when Danny had to work around the church, so they wouldn’t press charges, he pretended to reform and Martin didn’t blame him. Everybody was on his case.
That was when everyone started to say that he was more Carroll than Boyle, and they didn’t mean it as a compliment. That was when he would have needed Martin the most and he wasn’t there. He was too busy moving to Canada.
***
“You’re thinking about your nephew again?” David opened his eyes and rolled toward him, wrapping his arms around him and drawing their bodies together. He reached forward and gently kissed Martin’s lips. “You can talk to me about it, you know?”
“I know. I just don’t know how I feel about it yet.”
“What’s to feel? The kid’s in trouble and needs your help. We can bring him out here where he will be safe.”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s to know? Nobody will be able to get to him here. If they try—they’ll have me to deal with. Me and a few brothers. I’m from Kingston, man. I know how to look out for my own.”
Martin almost laughed. David came from the richest part of town but liked to talk tough, even though he was so soft inside. “I thought your family was rich.”
“We are but we have cousins who live down around Tivoli Gardens.”
“That sounds like a real tough neighborhood, almost as scary as Rosedale, or Forest Hill.”
“Trust me, Toastie, Tivoli Gardens is Hell. People get shot down there for nothing. You look at someone the wrong way and bang, you got yourself another hole in your head.” David grew more animated as he spoke. His large broad chest rippled and his face acted out each word.
Martin ran his white fingers gently across David’s dark skin. He had a way of making Martin feel that everything would be all right. He used to sing it to him, too, in his best Bob Marley voice: “‘Cause every little thing’s gonna be all right!”
“But where is he going to stay? He can’t stay with us.”
“Why not? He’s family, man. You look after family.”
“Not mine.”
“What are you talking about? He’s your nephew and he needs a place to start again. He can stay here until he gets set up.”
Martin sat up and wrapped the sheets around his torso, turning his back on his lover.
“They don’t know about us?” David asked in a softer voice. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
“No. They don’t”
“What? Are you afraid that they might be shocked because I’m black?”
“No! They’ll be so shocked that you’re a man that I’m hoping they’ll overlook that.”
“Toastie, you’re one screwed up little Catholic boy. That’s why I love you.”
“I thought it was because I have such a cute ass.”
“That too, but there is nothing sweeter than doing it with a Catholic boy. It just makes it all so much more sinful.”
“How many Catholic boys have there been.”
“You’re my first.”
“And the last?”
“Maybe. Is your nephew . . . ?”
“Don’t even think about it.”
Martin feigned outrage and stormed off to shower but he left the door open for David to follow.
CHAPTER 11
Deirdre was looking out her window the night Danny walked past. She had been smoking a joint and didn’t want the smell in her room. She had almost called out but she couldn’t do that to him—he had enough problems to deal with—so she edged away from the window and hoped he hadn’t noticed. She still wasn’t ready to face him after the way she had behaved after their infamous night.
**
After they had been taken from the church, wrapped in blankets to hide their immodesty, her father came to the Garda station. He didn’t even speak to her as he dealt with the Guards. Her mother stood between them, interceding for peace, at least until they got home. She even took Deirdre aside and urged her to stay silent until she had a chance to work on him.
By the next morning her mother had done it and convinced him that it was all Danny’s fault, that he had led Deirdre astray. She agreed with him that it was shameful and a blot on the good name of the family that he had worked so hard for, but that no permanent harm had been done.
He was somewhat appeased by that but warned that if he ran into Danny, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. And even as he mentioned Danny’s name, he became enraged again until Fr. Reilly dropped by.
The priest had gratefully accepted the tea that Deirdre’s mother
offered, admitting that he was almost worn out having been called from his bed in the middle of the night.
**
He had declined the car, choosing instead to take his bike. He had wanted to think along the way—to sort out how he was going to deliver the news. Fr. Brennan had told him it would be better coming from the curate, rather than the parish priest, but he couldn’t help feel that the old man was shirking his responsibilities.
Patrick hadn’t been to the Boyle’s house since Nora’s wake and was taken aback. Even in the yellowish glow of the streetlights he could see how neglected the garden had become. Nora Boyle’s years of attention were being lost to the rush of weeds and litter. He pressed the doorbell and waited. It was late and they would be in bed. After the second ring a sleepy voice called from a window above.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s Father Reilly. Can I come in?”
“At this hour?”
“Yes, I have news that would be better discussed inside.”
“Hold on a minute then, Father. We’ll be right down.”
They both looked terrible, puffy faced and bedraggled. Jacinta clutched her tatty robe close to her as she led him into the kitchen where Jerry scratched himself absentmindedly and rummaged around until he found a cigarette.
“Well, Father,” he asked as he exhaled. “What brings you by at this hour?”
“It’s about Danny.”
“What’s that little brat gone and done now?”
“How do you know,” Jacinta snapped over her shoulder, as she fussed with the teapot, “that he has done anything? Did you ever think that something might have happened to him, through no fault of his own?”
“Well,” Fr. Reilly interceded and chose his words carefully. “I’m afraid he has gone and done something rather foolish. But he’s all right. He’s safe and sound but the Guards have him.”
“Ah sweet Jesus. Why?”
“Well, they were called to the church after somebody noticed that it had been broken into. They went in and found Danny inside.”
“What was he doing there?”