Ride On (13 page)

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Authors: Stephen J. Martin

Tags: #Fiction, #Humorous, #Rock Musicians, #General

BOOK: Ride On
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‘I don't know …'

‘You know how to bate the shite out of people, Norman. I know women. Trish is a fucking angel and she's all yours, so make the most of it.'

*

Trish was in her bedroom on her own, very sober. It was two in the morning. The wardrobe door was open and she stood in front of the mirror stuck to the inside of it, just looking at herself. She was in her uniform still, even though she'd gotten in from work an hour ago. Only the bedside lamp was turned on and that was on a dimmer switch. Still, even in the rusty orange glow that seemed to seethe all around her, her uniform shone sharp and crisp. The way she liked it. She breathed deeply and closed the wardrobe door, stepping back to sit on her bed.

She was thinking about Aesop, remembering the fear and panic in his eyes that night. The way he'd bolted from her, flinging stinging obscenities in his wake, before she had a chance to stop him. She reached under the bed and patted around until her fingers touched the box and then she pulled it out and set it on her lap, just looking at it for a minute. The lid came away in her hands and she felt the catch in her chest when her eyes fell on what was inside. Something from another life.

*

‘You reckon?' said Norman, looking up.

‘I'm telling you, man. I know women.'

Chapter Thirteen

It was a beautiful Saturday morning in Cork. The sky was a brilliant pale blue and a fresh breeze was whooshing through the stripped trees behind the cottage, carrying with it in earthy wafts the musk of burning turf. The sun was low, but blinding bright, splashing long shadows across the fields from every ditch and bush and the rocks that pierced the earth like ancient broken teeth. A tractor and trailer crunched past on the road and then disappeared over the hill. A crow set down on the bench just outside the front door and looked around in jerks and twitches before taking off again and vanishing into a hedge. Inside the cottage, two figures sat at the kitchen table.

‘Me fuckin' head,' said Aesop.

‘What's left in the bottle?' said Norman. His chin was down on his chest, his hands folded demurely in his lap and his face scrunched up in pain.

Aesop opened his fingers and looked between them over to the small table in front of the fire. He closed them again.

‘You don't want to know.'

‘That's your fault. I wanted to go to bed when we came in from the pub.'

‘I don't seem to recall having to break your arm to get you to have a small one.'

Norman turned to look at the bottle.

‘Jesus. That was full when we started. No wonder I'm in this state. You're a bad influence on me. I was going down to the bog this morning and everything.'

‘We're already there.'

‘No. I mean the actual bog. I was going to cut some turf.'

‘There's loads in the bin outside.'

‘It was for the exercise. A bit of fresh air. I was going to show you how to cut peat.'

‘That'd come in handy. All the times I've said to meself, if only you knew how to cut peat Aesop …'

‘We'll go after lunch. A couple of hours. To sort out this hangover.'

‘Or we could just take a load of tablets and not bother our bollocks. That gets my vote.'

‘You don't have a vote. We can't stay in the house all day, Aesop.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because it's a gorgeous day. We should go out for a walk or something.'

‘Norman, that's the kind of thing a girl says right between waking up in the morning and me pushing her into a taxi.'

‘Well I'm not a girl Aesop.'

‘Ah, you're a bit of a girl sometimes Norman, aren't you?'

‘Is there eggs in the fridge?'

‘Yeah. Helen brought loads over yesterday.'

‘Right. Well I'll get started on the French toast, you sort out the fire.'

‘Ah Jaysis. I don't want to. Can I make the French toast and you do the fire?'

‘Do you know how to make French toast?'

‘Eh … eggs, toast … em … garlic …'

Norman stood up.

‘Don't use too many firelighters.'

‘What the fuck is that on the radio? Listen man, is there any music at all in this house that isn't shite?'

‘Granny's CDs are over there in the press.'

‘I don't s'pose there's any chance Granny was a big Megadeth fan, is there?'

‘Have a look.'

Aesop got down on his knees and started flicking through the selection.

‘Dolly Parton?'

‘Yeah.'

‘I didn't know she sang.'

‘What?'

‘She has an album here. Oh, two albums. Did you know she sang?'

‘What did you think she did?'

‘Well … I thought she just had these massive knockers and … y'know …'

‘She's a singer you fucking eejit.'

‘Really?'

‘Stop stalling and do the fire. I'm not doing it, Aesop.'

‘I'm serious. What kind of music is she?'

‘Country and Western.'

‘Jaysis. Sorry Dolly, you can stay in there. Oh, look, “War of the Worlds”!'

‘Yeah. Granny was mad into Richard Burton.'

‘Excellent. That's my kind of granny. This is proper hangover music.'

‘Aesop, get a move on, will you?'

‘Who's Richard Burton?'

‘Listen to me, you big …'

There was a knock on the door.

‘Anyone awake in here?'

It was Helen.

‘Oh thank fuck,' said Aesop. ‘Saved.'

He ran over and opened the door.

‘Helen!'

The arms went out and he gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

‘Thank God you're here. Norman's being a terrible bully this morning. Will you tell him to leave me alone?'

Helen laughed and walked in.

‘Morning, guys.' She stopped. ‘Oh God … the smell in here.'

‘That's him,' said Aesop, pointing at Norman. ‘I keep telling him to see a doctor.'

‘No. It's the cigarettes and booze. God, it reminds me of when Granny had one of her parties.'

‘I'm beginning to like what I hear about your Granny.'

‘She was great. So, what's up? Have you eaten yet?'

‘Just putting on some French toast here,' said Norman. ‘Do you want some?'

‘I'm after bringing some sausages and bacon and pudding down. And Mam made a few loaves of bread for you. And butter. Here, Robert, let me do it.'

‘Ah no, Jesus. I'll look after it.'

‘You will not. Put on the kettle there and sit down before you fall down. Look at the state of the pair of you. Reeking of whiskey and bags under your eyes like pillows. What time did you go to bed?'

‘I had to leave him asleep on the couch,' said Aesop. ‘He can't hold his gargle.'

‘Right. Well, the two of you sit down. Here's the paper, look. I'll make the tea. Robert, set the fire there.'

‘But … that's Aesop's job.'

‘Ah stop. He's our guest, sure. Go on. It'll only take you a minute.'

Aesop grinned at Norman and took the paper off Helen.

‘Thanks Helen. You're very good. Norman had me doing everything.'

‘Aesop …' said Norman. He looked fit to give him a box.

‘Will you do what your cousin says and stop whinging?' said Aesop. ‘Honestly, Helen, he's been like a bear with a sore arse all morning. I wanted to go out for a walk and everything but there was no shifting him.'

‘Come on Robert. Get the fire going and we'll have our breakfast. You'll be grand then.'

‘I'm grand now!'

‘Can I do anything at all for you Helen?' said Aesop.

‘Not at all,' she said, her head in the fridge. ‘Sit down there and Robert will make the tea. Robert? The fire?'

Norman looked around and glared at Aesop. He opened his mouth to say something, but Aesop just made a show of flapping open the paper and sat on the couch.

‘Will I put on some music Helen?' he said.

‘Yeah, go on sure.'

‘Do you like Dolly Parton?'

‘I love her.'

‘Really? Me too. Norman, can you stick on some sounds there while you're up. And Helen, are you sure I can't help?'

‘Just sit down there Aesop and relax. Robert, I think that kettle is boiled.'

Norman gave one final dagger-glare in Aesop's direction and then knelt down to put a CD on. With ‘Jolene' coming out of the speakers, he walked past Aesop and gave him a boot in the shin on his way out the back door to get some sticks.

‘How do you like your eggs Aesop?'

‘Actually, I love poached eggs Helen. But don't go to any trouble.'

‘No trouble.'

‘Ah, you're very good for coming down and making the brekkie like this.'

‘Not at all. I wanted to say hello anyway. I don't get to see Robert much these days and he said you didn't know how long you'd be hanging around.'

‘We'll be here for a couple of weeks probably, so you drop in to see him as often as you like.'

‘Thanks.'

‘Seriously. Drop in to see me too if you like.'

She stopped what she was doing for a second, but didn't turn around.

‘Maybe I will.'

‘Listen, I wanted to tell you last night, Helen, but I was pissed and didn't want to sound like a fuckin' eejit. You've got a beautiful voice. Man, last night you were absolutely … stunning … up there.'

‘Thanks.'

‘I'm serious. And, no, thank you. I had a brilliant time.'

‘I did too.'

‘Helen?'

‘Yeah?'

‘That Irish song you were singing …'

‘Yeah.'

‘Who is she?'

‘Who's who?'

‘The girl in the …'

There was a thump outside the front door, someone kicking muck off shoes. Then a knock.

‘Hello?'

Aesop's head spun around in surprise.

‘Jimmy?'

He went to the door and opened it. Jimmy was standing there, grinning.

‘Howya Aesop. What's …'

‘Did you bring your iPod?'

‘What?'

‘Your iPod.'

Jimmy tapped his jacket pocket.

‘It's here.'

‘Speakers?'

‘They're out in the car.'

‘Gimme your keys.'

‘It's not locked.'

‘Grand.'

Aesop bolted past him and out to Jimmy's car.

‘Nice to see you too, Aesop. Fuck sake.'

Aesop ignored him, so Jimmy stepped inside and looked around. He saw Helen standing at the counter, looking at him.

‘Hello.'

‘Hi.'

‘Eh … I'm Jimmy.'

She just nodded, a full black pudding in her hand, like she was seeing things.

‘Where in the car?' shouted Aesop from outside.

‘In the boot. There's a sports bag with me gear.'

Jimmy turned back to Helen.

‘Is … Norman here?'

‘He's out the back cutting up some sticks for the fire.'

‘Right.'

‘Jimmy, the boot won't open.'

‘For fu … you need to lean on it with your knee. It gets stuck.'

He walked over to Helen and put his hand out.

‘Nice to meet you, eh …'

‘Helen.'

‘Helen. Nice to meet you. Are you Aesop's … friend?'

‘I'm Robert's cousin.'

‘Oh right. Yeah. Helen. He mentioned you, yeah. Bridie's your Mam, isn't she? God, they have you making their breakfast for them? You should have told them to …'

There was a tremendous banging from the front garden.

‘Sorry Helen, can you excuse me a minute?' He walked back to the door and looked out. ‘Aesop, I said lean on it with your knee, not kick the fuck out of it.'

‘It won't … fucking … the yoke is …'

‘Christ, I'll do it. Hang … will you … Aesop, stop fuckin' kicking me car! Jesus …'

He went out and opened the boot, pointed at the bag, and then came back inside.

‘Has he been listening to a lot of Norman's music?'

‘And Dolly Parton.'

‘Right,' he said looking back at Aesop rooting through his bag.

‘Eh … will you have a cup of tea?' said Helen.

‘I'd love one Helen, thanks. That was a long drive this morning.'

‘Are you going to be staying?'

‘Yeah. For a few days anyway.'

Aesop came in and went over to Jimmy, reaching into his pocket.

‘What … Aesop … stop … will you … what are you doing for fuck sake?'

‘Gimme your iPod. I need Zeppelin. It's an emergency.'

‘Here. Jesus.'

Aesop took the iPod and speakers and went over to the counter to plug them in, the other two just watching. Ten seconds later ‘Black Dog' was blasting out through the kitchen. Aesop sighed and leaned back against the fridge like he was sinking into a hot bath.

‘Ah Jaysis. Ah, that's grand now …'

‘Aesop …' said Jimmy, shaking his head.

‘Oh. Sorry. Yiz must think I'm very rude. Jimmy, this is Norman's stunningly beautiful cousin Helen, who's an amazing singer and a dab hand at the oul' fry in the mornings. Helen, this is my mate Jimmy Collins. He's a rockstar.'

A dishevelled and disgruntled figure stumbled into the kitchen through the back door, two arms full of broken sticks and his nose streaming blood.

‘Head came off the axe,' he said, blinking at everyone and then staring at Jimmy with his mouth open.

‘And of course, you know Norman,' said Aesop.

*

The lads were sitting on the low stone wall next to the holy well, smoking.

‘A trout?' said Jimmy.

‘Yeah,' said Norman, shrugging. He had toilet roll stuffed up one nostril.

‘Fair enough.'

Aesop got up and peered into the well.

‘Hello?' he shouted.

‘Don't take the piss Aesop,' said Norman.

‘I'm not. Just trying out the echo.'

‘Sit down and have your smoke. And don't be flicking your butt into it either. Bring it with you back to the cottage.'

‘And what did Saint Ita do for herself?' said Jimmy.

‘Ah, I don't know all the stories. I think her Da wanted her to get married to some rich bloke, but she didn't want to because she wanted to live a simple life and go around helping people.'

‘Typical Pisces,' said Aesop, sitting on the wall again and stubbing out his cigarette.

‘Anyway,' said Norman. ‘Are you going to tell us what you're doing down here? I thought you were busy in Dublin.'

‘I was. But … well, I couldn't concentrate on what I was doing, y'know? I haven't been writing very much lately … figured I could do with a bit of time off. So I thought I'd come down here and see what you two were getting up to. So what have you been up to?'

‘Not much,' said Aesop. ‘Met Helen and her mate Jessie yesterday. Then Norman showed me some karate. Went to a trad gig last night and fell in love with Helen, God bless her sweet voice like honey and eyes the size of dinner plates, but Norman made me promise not to touch her which I think is totally fucking out of line. I nearly got into a fight with a bloke called Davey, who's Helen's ex-fiancé, for blowing him a kiss across the bar, but his mate pulled him away before I could batter him. Then Norman got up and played the bones with the band. Came home, drank a bottle of whiskey, told Norman I called his bird a cunt, and then passed out upside down in the bed. Oh, by the way, apparently Jessie is mad for your cock, Jimmy. You haven't met her yet, but you will. A couple of nice handfuls on her and the deadly accent and everything. All I did was mention your name and next thing she's there shifting around on the seat trying to get comfortable, y'know? The bullets out and everything just thinking about you.'

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