There were two women coming up the road, four gates away.
— Of course, said Doris, — what else would you expect from a—
Veronica punched her in the face.
* * *
— What happened yeh, Doris? said Mrs Foster.
— Tha’ one hit her, said Mrs Caprani. — Yeh seen it yourself.
— I mean before that.
Doris wanted to get out of Rabbitte territory. She pulled herself away from the women and ran out the gate. She stopped on the path.
— What happened, Doris? Mrs Foster asked again.
She tried to get to Doris’s nose with a paper hankie.
More people were coming.
— Veronica Rabbitte’s after givin’ poor Doris an awful clatter, Mrs Caprani told them. — In the nose.
Doris was still crying.
— I’ll do it — it myself.
She took the hankie.
— Wha’ happened yeh, Doris?
— Sh — Shar—
— Shar, Doris? What shar?
* * *
Inside, Veronica sat in the kitchen, putting sequins onto Linda’s dancing dress.
* * *
Sharon lay on her bed. She couldn’t go downstairs, she couldn’t go to the Hikers, or anywhere. She was surrounded. She was snared. If she went anywhere or — she couldn’t. All because of that stupid fucker.
— The fucker, she said to the ceiling.
The baby was nothing. It happened. It was alright. Barrytown was good that way. Nobody minded. Guess the daddy was a hobby. But now Burgess — He’d cut her off from everything. She’d no friends now, and no places to go to. She couldn’t even look at her family. God, she wanted to die; really she did. She just lay there. She couldn’t do anything else.
She was angry now. She thumped the bed.
The bastard, the fucker; it wasn’t fuckin’ fair. She’d deny it, that was what she’d do. And she’d keep denying it. And denying it.
* * *
Veronica and Jimmy Sr were down in the kitchen.
— Desperate, so it is, said Jimmy Sr quietly. — Shockin’.
Veronica put the dress down. She couldn’t look at another sequin.
— That’s about the hundredth time you’ve said that, she told him.
— Well, it is fuckin’ desperate.
They heard Linda and Tracy coming up the hall.
— Slow — Slow — Quick — Quick — Slow.
— Get ou’! Jimmy Sr roared.
— We know where we’re not wanted, said Linda. — Come on, Tracy.
— Slow — Slow — Quick—
They danced down the hall, into the front room to annoy Darren.
Jimmy Sr was miserable.
— Poor Sharon though.
— Poor Sharon! said Veronica. — What about poor us?
— Don’t start now, said Jimmy Sr.
He was playing with a cold chip.
— I suppose — She could’ve been more careful, he said.
— She could’ve had more taste, said Veronica.
— That’s righ’, said Jimmy Sr, glad to be able to say it. — You’re right o’ course. That’s what’s so terrible about it.
George Burgess. — Georgie Burgess. Jesus, Veronica, I think the cunt’s older than I am.
He threw the chip at the window, and then felt stupid.
He was feeling sorry for himself; he knew it. And now he was letting his eyes water.
— It’s only yourself you’re worried about, Veronica told him.
— Ah — I know, said Jimmy Sr. — But poor Sharon as well.
He rubbed his eyes quickly.
— I can’t even go ou’ for a fuckin’ pint.
— It’s about time you stayed in.
— Is there annythin’ good on?
— I don’t know.
— George fuckin’ Burgess.
Then they heard the voice from upstairs.
— THIS IS JIMMY RABBITTE — ALL — OVER — IRELAND.
— Oh fuck, no, Jimmy Sr pleaded. — Not tonigh’. Please.
* * *
Jimmy Sr gave Sharon a lift to work the next morning. They didn’t say much. Jimmy Sr asked a question.
— How—?
— It wasn’t him.
— I never—
— It wasn’t him, righ’.
— Okay. — Okay.
That was it.
* * *
Jimmy Sr scooped out the teabag and flung it into a corner. His shoulders were at him. He felt shite. He wanted to go home.
It wasn’t him, she’d said.
He didn’t know. He tried it again: it wasn’t him. He believed her of course, but — If it wasn’t Burgess then who the fuck was it? She’d have to tell them. He had to know for certain that it was definitely someone else; anyone. She’d just have to fuckin’ tell them.
Or else.
He tried the tea. It was brutal.
* * *
— There’s no fuckin’ way, Jackie. You know tha’.
Jackie was sitting on the twins’ bed. Sharon was sitting on her own bed. She looked at the steam rising up off her tea, so she didn’t have to look at Jackie.
— I know, said Jackie.
It wasn’t enough, Jackie knew; not nearly. It didn’t sound as if she’d meant it enough.
— I know tha’, she said; better this time, she thought. — Jesus, the state of him. There’s no way you’d’ve—
— Don’t say it, said Sharon. — I’ll get sick, I swear.
Jackie tried to laugh. They looked at each other and then they really laughed. Sharon thought the happiness would burst out of her, through her ribs, out of her mouth.
— Can yeh imagine it! she said.
— Tha’ dirty big belly on top o’ yeh!
— Stop it!
They said nothing for a bit, and the giggling died. Sharon’s nails dug into her palms.
— i KNOW WHA’ YOU’RE THIN — KIN’, she sang.
Jackie laughed, at the floor.
— Fuck off, she said. — Are yeh tellin’?
— S’pose I’d better.
— Jesus, Sharon, come on.
— It was one o’ them Spanish sailors.
— Wha’?
— Yeh know, said Sharon. — Yeh do. In the Harp, I met him.
— Oh, now I get yeh. Jesus, Sharon.
— There was loads o’ them there, yeh know. There was a big boat, yeh know; down in the docks for two days, I think it was.
She had this bit off by heart.
— He was gorgeous, Jackie, I’m not jokin’ yeh.
— Was he? Jesus. — Yeh never mentioned him before.
— No. I didn’t want to. — Yeh know. It was only for one night.
— Yeah. Do yeh know his address?
— I don’t even know his fuckin’ name, Jackie.
Manuel was the only Spanish name she could think of.
— Jesus, said Jackie. — Go on annyway.
— Ah, I just met him. In the Harp, yeh know. His English was brutal. — Come here, he had a sword.
She’d just thought up that bit.
— I’d say he did alrigh’, said Jackie, and they roared laughing.
— That’s disgustin’, Jackie.
— Where did yis — do it? Jackie asked.
She was smiling. She was enjoying herself now.
— In his hotel. The Ormond, yeh know.
— Was he not supposed to sleep in his ship?
— No, not really. They let them ou’ for the night.
— Oh yeah. — Like Letter To Brezhnev.
— God, yeah, said Sharon. — Jesus, I never thought o’ tha’.
She was sure her nails had gone through the skin.
— Was he nice?
— Fuckin’ gorgeous. Anyway, I wouldn’t’ve done it with him if he hadn’t o’ been, sure I wouldn’t?