The Barrytown Trilogy (35 page)

It had gone quiet outside. There were no cars. Everyone was gone.

Her belly button was like a real button now; inside out. She didn’t like it that way. It felt dangerous.

She heard something; someone was running and wheezing, and the steps weren’t very fast. The wheezing must have been really bad if she could hear it from the back of the house. And now it was raining again. She hoped it was Mister Burgess out there. Not really though.

It was nice.

But she still couldn’t stop worrying. It could happen any time. She was having these —painless contractions the book called them —all the time, now and again, but they weren’t really painless at all because they made her really nervous because the next one might be painful, and she waited and waited for the next one until she ached.

She got up. She wanted to be in the kitchen.

* * *

—Oh Jesus! said Sharon.

—What’s wrong? said Jimmy Sr.

He jumped up off the couch.

—Is it comin’, is it?

—No, said Sharon.

She shifted, to get the cushions behind her again.

—Sorry. I was just failin’ asleep an’ I didn’t know it, em —Sorry.

Jimmy Sr looked disappointed. He sat down, but he was ready to get up again.

—Yeh can’t be too careful abou’ this sort o’ thing, he said.

Veronica climbed out of the armchair and stood up.

—We don’t want you bursting your waters all over the furniture, isn’t that right, Jimmy dear? They’re new covers.

She went out, into the kitchen.

Jimmy Sr sat there, appalled. That was the dirtiest, foulest thing he’d heard in his life. And his wife had said it!

Sharon was laughing.

—Jaysis, Sharon, I’m sorry, said Jimmy Sr. —Tha’ was a terrible thing for Veronica to say. Terrible.

—Ah, stop it, said Sharon. —She was only jokin’.

—No, no, said Jimmy Sr. —There’s jokin’ an’ jokin’ but tha’ was no fuckin’ joke. I’m just glad the twins weren’t here to hear it.

—Ah Daddy!

—No, Sharon, Jimmy Sr insisted. —This is no laughin’ matter.

He pointed at Sharon’s belly.

—Do yeh not realize tha’ there’s a livin’ bein’ in there? he said. —A livin’ ——thing.

—Ah, feck off, Daddy. Cop on.

—Don’t start tha’ raisin’ your eyes to heaven shite with me. An’ don’t start chewin’ tha’ fuckin’ celery when I’m talkin’ to yeh.

Sharon tapped Jimmy Sr on the head with her celery.

—Yes, Daddy.

She gulped.

—The livin’ bein’ in here is givin’ me terrible fuckin’ indigestion, she said.

—That’s cos your stomach’s flattened, Jimmy Sr told her. —Yeh prob’ly ate too much.

—I didn’t.

—Yeh should only eat small amounts.

—Ah, shag off.

—It looks like there’s only one person takin’ this thing seriously, an’ that’s me.

—Excuse me! said Sharon. —I am takin’ it seriously. I’m the one carryin’ it around with me all the time.

—You’re gettin’ snotty now cos o’ your hormones, Jimmy Sr told her. —I’ll talk to yeh later.

Sharon laughed at this.

—There’s nothin’ wrong with my hormones.

—I didn’t say there was annythin’ wrong with them, said Jimmy Sr. —No, there’s nothin’ wrong. As such. Wrong’s the wrong word. Imbalance is the term I’d use.

—Thanks very much, Doctor Rabbitte.

—Fuck off.

Then he grinned. Then he stopped grinning, and coughed.

—When, he said. —When your mammy ——Times have changed, d’yeh know tha’?

Sharon smiled.

—When your mammy was havin’ Jimmy I was in work. An’ when she was havin’ you I was in me mother’s. When she had Leslie I was inside in town, in Conways, yeh know, with the lads. The Hikers wasn’t built then. For Darren, I was —I can’t remember. The twins, I was in the Hikers.

—You’ve a great memory.

—Nowadays the husbands are there with the women, said Jimmy Sr. —That’s much better, I think. I’d ——

He scratched his leg.

—Because he can hold her hand an’ help her, an’ encourage her, yeh know, an’ see his child bein’ born.

There wasn’t even a car going past. The pipes upstairs weren’t making any noise.

—Sharon, I’ll —Only if yeh want now ——I wouldn’t mind stayin’ with you when ——you’re havin’ it.

—Ah no.

——Okay.

* * *

—Stop pushin’ her, will yeh!

Sharon and Jackie were in Howth, on stools at the bar. It was busy and getting busier.

—I’m tryin’ to get tha’ prick of a barman to serve me, said the young fella in the black polo neck and glowing dandruff who’d pushed Sharon’s back. He was wedged between Sharon and one of the poles that held up the ceiling, on his toes and clicking his fingers.

—Look at her condition, will yeh, said Jackie.

He did, still clicking his fingers.

—She doesn’t look tha’ bad, he said.

—She’s pregnant, yeh fuckin’ sap.

—Fuck, sorry!

—Yeah; so yeh should be. ——I’ll get the barman for yeh. Raymond!

Raymond was there before she’d finished calling him.

—Yeah?

—He wants yeh.

—Oh. ——Yeah?

—He fancies yeh, said Sharon.

—I know, said Jackie. —He nearly dribbles all over me. Did yeh see him there? His fuckin’ tongue was hangin’ ou’.

She copied Raymond.

—Yeah? Yeah? Yeah?

Sharon laughed.

—Ah stop. He’s not tha’ bad.

—I suppose he isn’t. He’s still a spa though.

Sharon laughed again.

—You’re a terrible fuckin’ wagon, Jackie. ——I’m pissed.

—So am I, said Jackie. —Raymond!

—Yeah?

—Same again, chicken.

—Yeah.

He ran over to the optics.

—Yeah, said Jackie.

She lifted herself up a bit so she could see all of Raymond.

—He’s got a nice arse on him all the same.

She sat down again.

—Pity abou’ the rest of him.

—I’m pissed, Jackie, said Sharon.

—So am I, said Jackie.

Sharon looked down.

—I shouldn’t be doin’ this.

—Wha’?

—Drinkin’.

—Ah, don’t be thick, Sharon. Yeh need to get pissed now an’ again. There’s no harm in it.

—Yeah, said Sharon.

She tried to sit up.

—Thank you, Raymond, said Jackie. —You’re the best little barman in the world.

—An’ the best lookin’, said Sharon.

—Oh def’ny, said Jackie.

Raymond grinned and blushed and dropped tenpence into Jackie’s glass, and decided not to try and get it out after he’d already put two of his fingers into the vodka.

—I want another one, said Jackie. —I’m not takin’ tha’.

—Okay, said Raymond. —Sorry abou’ tha’.

He went over to the optics, got the tenpence out, filled a new glass, but left it on the counter and brought Jackie back her old one.

—There, he said.

—Thank you, Raymond. I’ll have my change now. If you don’t mind.

—Oh yeah.

Sharon couldn’t stop laughing. Her hand shook when she poured the Coke in on top of the vodka.

—Thank you very much, Raymond, said Jackie when
Raymond came back with the tenpence. —Better late than never.

Sharon pushed the tears off her nose.

—Is me mascara alrigh’? she asked.

—Ah yeah, said Jackie. —Yeh’d want to be lookin’.

—Me back’s fuckin’ killin’ me. We shouldn’t’ve sitten here. I need somethin’ to lean against.

—The pole, said Jackie.

—Yeah, said Sharon.

She came down off her stool.

—Jesus! ——God, I’m pissed, d’yeh know tha’.

She straightened up.

—Jesus.

She picked up the stool.

—’Xcuse me. Out o’ me way.

She shoved the stool between the bar and a man who was waiting at it, and reached the pole. Jackie followed her. They got back onto the stools. Sharon leaned back. The pole was cold through her clothes.

—That’s lovely.

—What’re
YOU
lookin’ at? Jackie asked a spotty young fella.

—Nothin’!

—Better not be. ——Where’s me drink? Jesus, I’m finished already.

—My turn, said Sharon.

She knocked back the rest of hers.

—You call him, okay? she said to Jackie.

—Raymond!

—Same again?

—Yeah, said Jackie. —Yeah.

—Oh fuh-fuck, said Sharon. —I’ve got the hic-coughs.

She put her hand on her chest, to feel for any approaching hiccups.

—Jesus, I’m scuttered. They’re gone.

—Wha’?

—The hi-hi —Fuck it, they’re back.

There was a new song on the jukebox.

—Oh, I love this one, said Jackie.

—Yeah, said Sharon. —He’s a ride, isn’t he?

—He is, yeah, said Jackie. —A riyed! I’d love to dig me nails —

—Talkin’ abou’ rides, lo-look who’s behind yeh, Jackie. Don’t turn.

But she’d turned already.

—Where?

—There.

—Where!

—There. Look it, yeh blind bitch. Beside your woman.

—Who is it? ——Oh Jesus Christ!

It was Greg, Jackie’s ex, the fella she’d blown out in the ILAC Centre because the cream in his eclair had gone missing.

Jackie turned back and faced the bar.

—Is he lookin’ this way?

—Yeah, said Sharon. —He’s seen yeh. Oh Jesus, he’s comin’ over, Jackie.

—I won’t talk to him, I don’t care. I fuckin’ won’t.

—He’s takin’ somethin’ ou’ of his trousers. Oh my God, Jackie!

Jackie had copped on by now. She turned and saw the back of Greg’s head way over on the other side of the lounge.

—You’re a fuckin’ cunt, Rabbitte.

She hoped she hadn’t sounded too disappointed. She laughed with Sharon, just in case.

—I think I’m goin’ to be sick, said Sharon.

Her face was really white.

—Oh Jesus, said Jackie. —Come on.

She slid off her stool.

Sharon shook her head.

—I won’t make it.

She grabbed her bag from the counter. She unclasped and opened it quickly. It wasn’t a big bag but she got as much of her head as she could into it; her chin, her mouth and her nose. Then she puked. It was a quick rush of vodka and Coke and a few little things. Then up with her head and she shut the bag.

Jackie gave her a paper hankie. She wiped her mouth and opened the bag a bit and threw the tissue in on top of the vodka and the rest. She held the bag up.

—It should hold, she said. —I’ll bring it ou’ and empty it in a minute.

They both laughed. Sharon felt much better already. She gave herself a test burp: grand; there was no taste off it or anything.

—Did annyone see me? she said.

—Yeah, said Jackie. —I think so. Your man there, look. He was lookin’ at yeh.

—Him? Specky Features? I wouldn’t mind him.

—You were very fast, said Jackie.

—There wasn’t tha’ much, said Sharon.

They drank to it. The vodka put up no fight going down. Sharon relaxed. She dropped the bag onto the floor.

—Squelch, said Jackie.

—I’m fuckin’ pissed.

—Hiyis.

Mary Curran was standing between them.

—Mary! said Jackie. —Howyeh.

—Hiyis, said Mary. —Haven’t seen yis in ages.

—Yeh saw me a few weeks ago, said Sharon.

—When, Sharon?

—You know fuckin’ well when, Mary. In Dunnes with Yvonne.

—I didn’t see yeh, Sharon.

—Yeh did so.

—I didn’t Sharon; when?

—Ah, who cares when? said Jackie. —Yeh see each other now, don’t yis?

—Yeah ——Well —

—Jesus, Sharon, sorry.

—Yeah. ——Sorry for shoutin’ at yeh.

—Your hair’s lovely, Mary, said Jackie.

—Yeah, said Sharon.

—Thanks. How are yeh, Sharon, an’ annyway?

—Alrigh’, said Sharon. —Grand.

—She’s pissed, said Jackie.

—Fuck off, you. I am not.

—You look fabulous, Mary told Sharon.

—Thanks.

—When’re yeh due?

—Monday.

—Jesus, that’s brilliant.

—But it’ll be late prob’ly.

—Yeh must be thrilled, are yeh?

—Ah yeah.

They were struggling, but they tried.

—Who’re yeh with, Mary? said Sharon.

—A fella.

—Who?

—You know him, Jackie. Greg.

Sharon looked at Jackie.

—Does he still like eclairs? said Jackie.

—Pardon?

—Nothin’. Tell him I was askin’ for him, will yeh.

—Yeah. ——I’d better go back.

—Yeah. See yeh, Mary.

—See yeh, Jackie. See yeh, Sharon. I’ll come in to see yeh when you’re in the hospital.

—Thanks. See yeh.

—See yeh, Mary. Bye bye. ——Yeh fuckin’ cow yeh. She’s a titless bitch, isn’t she?

They laughed.

—I never liked her, said Jackie.

—Jesus, I’m pissed.

—My turn, said Jackie. —Raymond!

—Yeah? Same again?

—S’il vous plait.

—Yeah.

—Yeah. —Wha’ did yeh think of her fuckin’ hair?

Sharon slid off the stool, and nearly fell.

—I’m goin’ home, she said.

—Are yeh alrigh’?

—Yeah, I think —I’d better go home.

Jackie picked up their bags.

—Come on, she said.

* * *

She was afraid to close her eyes. She didn’t want to get sick again. She was glad she was home. She wouldn’t go out again, even if the baby was weeks late.

Even in the taxi, before it moved even, she knew that nothing was going to happen. But she didn’t tell Jackie that. She just wanted to get home. She’d sort of panicked; thought she’d felt something, a real contraction or something, and the heat and the smoke and the crowds got to her and she had to get out of the pub and come home. She’d been sick twice since she got home but she wasn’t going to be again. As well as that though, she’d wanted to go to the toilet really badly, like she had the runs, but she hadn’t gone nearly as much as she thought she’d needed to but she still felt like she wanted to go, and that was supposed to be a sign that the labour would be starting soon, so it was just as well that she was here at home.

Could it start when you were asleep? she wondered. She’d wake up. Wouldn’t she? Anyway, she didn’t think she’d be able to sleep. She was terrified.

She’d felt better the minute she got into the taxi. The driver had been nice, telling them he was going to charge them for three because of the size of Sharon. And Jackie told him to hurry up or he’d be charging for three alright, and paying for the cleaning. It’d been nice. And then when Sharon opened her bag to pay him!