— Howyeh, James, he said. — Did yeh read tha’ one I gave yeh?
— I’m halfway through it.
— It’s better than Catch 22, isn’t it?
— I don’t think so, Mickah.
— Fuckin’ sure it is, said Mickah. — How much in, Jimmy?
— Two lids.
— Tha’ all? Yis mustn’t be anny good.
— Time will tell, Brother, said Joey The Lips.
— It told on you annyway, pal, said Mickah.
He was noticing Joey The Lips for the first time.
— The fuckin’ state of yeh.
Imelda laughed.
Bernie stared her out of it.
— Can we come in?
A small boy stood at the door.
— No, Mickah shouted down to him.
— When?
— When I say so. Now shut the fuckin’ door.
Mickah jumped off the stage. He landed in front of the caretaker, back in a clean shirt.
— I need a table, son, said Mickah.
Mickah and the caretaker took the table to the door. They sat behind it. Jimmy drew the stage curtain, a manky red thing. The Commitments took turns at peeking through it into the hall. The caretaker got an empty tin for the money.
— Righ’, said Mickah.
He slipped down in his chair and stretched so he could swing the door open with his foot.
— Get in here, he shouted.
There were about twelve of them outside, all kids, brothers and sisters of The Commitments, and their friends.
The caretaker took the money. Mickah laid down the rules as each of them passed the table into the hall.
— Anny messin’ an’ I’ll kill yeh, righ’.
— I’ve oney a pound, said one boy.
The caretaker looked to Mickah.
— Let him in, said Mickah.
Jimmy was standing behind them.
— How long are yis on for? Mickah asked him.
— Abou’ an hour.
— I’ll throw him ou’ after half, said Mickah.
— I’m unwaged, said another boy with his pound held out.
— Yeh weren’t this mornin’ when yeh were deliverin’ the milk, said Mickah.
— He sacked me after you seen me.
— Go on.
The caretaker took the pound.
It wasn’t a big hall but three hundred could have stood in it. There was room for two hundred and seventy more at half-seven.
Mickah looked outside.
— There’s no more ou’ there.
Jimmy looked at the crowd. Four mates of himself, Outspan and Derek leaned against the back wall. He’d let them in for nothing. Ray Ward (ex And And! And) was with them. He’d paid in. There were six other older ones, in their late teens or early twenties, mates, he supposed, of Deco or Billy or Dean. There were three girls, pals of Imelda, Natalie and Bernie. The rest were kids, except for one, Outspan’s mother. The caretaker got her a chair and she sat at the front, at the side.
Outspan looked again. He dropped the curtain.
— Fuck her, he said. — She promised me she wouldn’t come.
— I’m scarleh for yeh, said Bernie.
— Soul has no age limits, said Joey The Lips.
— Fuck off, Joey, said Outspan.
— She’s wearin’ her fur, Imelda told them.
She was at the curtain.
— Fuck her annyway, said Outspan. — I’m not goin’ on.
— If yeh don’t go on, said Deco, — I’ll tell your pal, Mickah.
Outspan looked at him.
— My ma could beat the shi’e ou’ o’ Mickah Wallace anny day.
At ten to eight Jimmy shut the door. The numbers had risen by three, his brother Darren and his mates.
Jimmy grabbed Darren’s shoulder.
— Come here, you, bollox. There’s only one E in Heroin.
He thumped Darren’s ear.
— Make them all go up to the front, Mickah, will yeh. It’ll look better.
— Righto. — That’s good thinkin’.
— We don’t want the group demoralized.
— Fuck, no.
Mickah went along the back. He shoved everyone forward.
— Get up there an clap or I’ll fuckin’ crease yis.
He was obeyed. Mickah followed them.
— Cheer when the curtain opens, righ’. —An’ clap like fuck. Great gig, Missis Foster, he shouted to Outspan’s mother.
Billy stood back and looked at the banner.
— That’s not how yeh spell heroin.
Imelda looked at it.
— Oh, look it, she said. — That’s brilliant.
— The syringe is very good though, isn’t it? said Dean.
— It’ll do, said Derek. — It’s grand. — None o’ those cunts ou’ there knows how to spell an’annyway.
Jimmy was back-stage.
— If we do tha’ dance in Walkin’ In The Rain we’ll fall off the fuckin’ stage, said Natalie. — It’s much smaller than Joey’s garage.
— Yis’ll be alrigh’, said Jimmy. — You’re professionals.
— Janey!
The Commitments were all at their positions.
Jimmy stood at the side of the stage. He had a mike in one hand and the curtain cord in the other. He nodded to them. They looked at themselves and each other and stood, ready, very serious.
This was it. Even if there were only thirty-three in the hall. James Brown had played to less. Joey The Lips said so.
— Ladies an’ gentlemen, Jimmy said to the mike.
There was a cheer, a big one too, from the other side of the curtain.
— Will yeh please put your workin’ class hands together for your heroes. The Saviours o’ Soul, The Hardest Workin’ Band in the World, — Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes — The Commitments.
He dropped the mike and pulled the cord. The curtain stayed shut.
— Wrong rope, son, said the caretaker.
— Yeh fuckin’ sap, said Imelda.
The caretaker got the curtain open. There was another cheer. (Jimmy dashed down to the mixing desk. — Get away from tha’, youse.) The house lights were still on. The crowd wasn’t even two deep in some places. The caretaker went to turn off the lights.
The clapping stopped. The lights went off. There were a few cheers, but no music.
— Hurry up, a boy shouted.
— Who said tha’? said Mickah. — Which one o’ yis said tha’? They watched him tearing along the front, grabbing shoulders.
— Billy, said Joey The Lips.
— Yeah?
— Ain’t That Good News—
— Wha’? —Oh, fuck, yeah! Sorry.
— THUM — TICKEH TICKEH TICKEH
— THUM — TICKEH TICKEH TICKEH
THUM — TICKEH—
— THUM—
Deco stepped up and walked along the front of the stage. He looked down at his audience.
— I want yis all to get up off o’ your seats an’ (—Wha’ fuckin’ seats? Mickah shouted.) — an’ clap your soul hands for me an’ the boys.
— An’ the girls, you, Bernie shouted at him.
— Billy — THUM — TICKEH TICKEH TICKEH—
Derek got going on the bass.
Deco sang.
— OH MY BABY’S COMIN’ HOME TOMORROW — AIN’T THA’ GOOD NEWS
— GOOD NEWS!
Deco and the Commitmentettes — Man — AIN’T THA’ NEWIS—
— BAYBA’S COMIN’ HOME TOMORREH—
The girls turned and wriggled a bit.
— Get up! someone roared.
— AIN’T THA’ NEWS — MA — HAN— AIN’T THA’ NEWIS —
The girls squeezed themselves.
— AIN’T THAT GOOD NEWS — GOOD NEWS!
A small hand grabbed Bernie’s shoe. She stepped on it and turned.
— AAAH! — Oh mammy! — yeh cunt, yeh.
— Jaysis!
— I GOT A LEH-ETTER JUST THE OTHER DAY —
Joey The Lips and Dean: —DUH-DUH-DUUH
— TELLIN’ ME THA’ SHE WAS ON HER WAY — EE-EE
Imelda thumbed a lift. Someone whistled.
— AN’ SHE WANTS ME TO MEET HER AT THE STATION —