Cocker’s eyes lit up. ‘Did yis ever see the tits on Molly Malone, the one in town? Seriously, have a look next time you’re in there. I always stare down at them until too many people are lookin at me. I can’t help it, they’re fuckin gorgeous. Ye can just tell she’d be total filth. Same as Miss Nolan.’
Jen was giggling. She looked up at me, sitting very close, her cheek resting on her knee. Her hair was curved like a wave. I looked away.
Jen went home around four o’clock, taking the DART the few stops back to Blackrock. We walked with her to the station. ‘Give my regards to Lord Bono,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I’ll see you guys on Saturday.’ She flashed me a smile that was bright and sincere. My mind was warm and foggy with the drink. Jen is alright, I thought.
‘Right,’ said Cocker when Jen had gone, clapping his hands together. ‘Are we ready to do this, or wha?’
We walked for twenty minutes before coming to Bono’s house. Cocker knew the way. He had gotten the exact directions from his brother or someone, really keen on doing it, as we all were. Kearney remained quiet as we approached the coastal mansion. I wondered if he was building up to something. That was Kearney’s style.
A wide gravel driveway led up to the black metallic gate. At the side there was one of those speakerphone things. ‘Here we are,’ said Rez when we reached the gate. ‘The Bonosphere. This is as close as we can get without gettin shot by his lasers.’
‘A-Bonomation,’ I said.
We huddled around the electronic speaker and Rez pressed the button.
It beeped and a mildly distorted voice said, ‘Yes?’
‘Oh hi. Is Bono there, please?’ said Cocker in a fake D4 accent.
‘And who may I say is calling?’
‘Oh we’re just friends of the great man, friends and admirers, uh, don’t you know.’
We sniggered and covered the sound with our sleeves, ducking away from the microphone.
‘I’m afraid I’ll need a name, sir.’ The voice was deadpan, giving no sign of irritation. Maybe Bono’s security guards were used to this kind of shit.
Now Cocker’s accent was a posh English one, like the royal family: ‘Oh well yes, please tell Mr Bono that this is his good friend Elton John.’
The grainy electronic voice had started politely but firmly telling us to get lost when Cocker leaned right into the speaker and shouted: ‘BONO YE WANKER! YERRAN AN OUT-AND-OUT FUCKIN CUNT, DO YE KNOW THAT? YERRA TOTAL FUCKIN DISGRACE TO THE IRISH AND MOST OF ALL TO YERSELF, YER BAND IS SHITE AND I HOPE YE FUCK OFF AND DIE …’
He paused, panting and out of breath, and I took over.
‘YERRAN ABSOLUTE FUCKIN TOSSER, YE DON’T HAVE A CLUE WHAT YER TALKIN ABOUT AND YER FULL OF SHIT AS WELL, ALL THIS BOLLOCKS ABOUT AFRICA AND THE THIRD WORLD ’N’ ALL …’
Now I was the one who gasped for breath; Kearney shoved me aside and stuck his face into the speaker.
‘CUNT! CUNT! FUCKIN GAY FAGGOT WANK-STAIN BASTARD! FUCKIN BASTARD! I FUCKIN HATE YE, I WANT YE TO FUCKIN DIE, YE FUCKIN WANKER!’
Finally he had to stop and breathe. By now we had all backed off; we looked at Kearney in astonishment. Where the fuck had all that come from?
‘Jesus, Kearney,’ said Rez. ‘That’s goin too far, you’re goin to get us arrested.’
Kearney was bent over, squealing with laughter. ‘Relax, Rez,’ he panted when he was able, hands on his knees and face all red.
‘No I won’t fuckin relax. Ye can’t say all that stuff, that’s too much. C’mon, I’m gettin away from here before the guards arrive.’
I was with Rez on that one. So was Cocker and so, finally, was Kearney, racing after us as we scampered away, through clumps of trees at the sides of the coastal roads, hurrying when we heard the sound of sirens in the distance.
Hours later, on the bus home, there was no more vodka and I was feeling awful. It wasn’t a hangover, just a sickening sense of emptiness, like there was a cold pit inside me and I was at the bottom, looking up towards a distant skylight, shivering. I wanted to keep getting fucked but there was no way. The lads were all heading home and I had to as well.
Cocker got off the bus at his stop, muttering that he’d see me in town on Saturday. I watched him walk away as the bus growled off to take me the last few stops.
There was no one at home when I got there. I went to my room and fished out a porno magazine and had a wank; it was slow and long because I’d been drinking. The picture was of a woman on all fours, looking back over her shoulder into the camera. She had a pretty face. Before I came I felt a stab of sadness that I couldn’t meet this girl, lie in bed with her and do all the things to her that I was thinking about doing while I pulled myself off; but talk to her as well, make her laugh and let her tell me kind things about myself.
When I had finished I slid the magazine under my bed, wiped myself off with some toilet paper, and then lay down and let a fog of doze wash over me, dragging me into oily oblivion as the night fell outside and the room grew colder.
2 | Kearney
Problems with Reality: Kearney Loves Death
Snapshot Number 1: Drink it in, Kearney!
— Big titted MILF has to whore herself to pay
— Fisted, fucked, and left for dead!
— Sexy fuck meat gets fucked so
— teen rape Asian anal frenzy
— Ebony cutie pounded in kitchen then forced to
— Filthy Euroslut Cindy gives great
— Clara fists herself in the back of a car. She spreads her pink
— horny Latina just loves the dick
— War and Peace — in her pussy!
— First-time teen slut sucks 2 black cocks and learns to love it!
— strap-on Sally made to bleed but begs for more
— Dildo Holocaust — the ANAL solution!
— 2 Cops pound there Massive Cocks into 4 ripe sluts and DP there tight assholes bloody red n Raw!!
— is a total freak who literally orgasms, she says, when you fuck her throat until she gags. Check out this
— Balkan bitch gets boned N stretched by
— Jane Pain says fuck her mouth til you rip the skin off her face
And so on and so on.
3 | Matthew
Dear Mr and Mrs Connelly,
We regret to inform you that Matthew has been forbidden from attending next Wednesday’s graduation ceremony, due to his unacceptable behaviour and the lack of respect he has shown for the school, for his teachers and for his fellow pupils throughout the year. This will not affect your son’s academic record with the school.
My da flung the letter down on the table and turned away in disgust. I said nothing. I sat there and waited for it to be over. My head was still in bits from all the vodka and spliff the day before. My ma looked on from behind him.
‘What the hell is goin on with ye?’ my da said.
We were in the kitchen. A pot was simmering and there was the smell of sizzling grease from fish fingers on the grill. I didn’t answer.
‘Well,’ he demanded. ‘What is it? Aren’t ye happy? What a fuckin disgrace. We can’t even see our own child graduatin. Do ye have any idea how humiliatin that is for us?’
I kept looking at the table, saying nothing. These were rhetorical questions. I wondered whether the lads had been barred as well. Surely they had: we were all as bad as each other.