* * *
He wasn’t in the kitchen. She looked in the front room. He was in there by himself, watching MTV with the sound down. He only turned the sound up when he recognized the singers or when he liked the look of them. Veronica had been in bed since just after the tea. It had been a bad day. The twins and Darren were in bed. The twins were asleep. Darren was listening to Bon Jovi on Jimmy Jr’s walkman. Jimmy would kill him when he caught him but it was worth it: Bon Jovi were brilliant. Jimmy Jr was in Howth, trying to get into Saints. Mickah Wallace was with him so it wasn’t easy. Les was out. Larrygogan was in the coal shed.
Jimmy Sr didn’t go to bed these days until Sharon got in.
— Hiyeh, said Sharon.
Jimmy Sr didn’t answer. He kept his eyes on Curiosity Killed the Cat.
— I said Hiyeh, Daddy, said Sharon.
— I heard yeh.
— Then why didn’t yeh answer me?
— Wait a—
— An’ why haven’t yeh answered for the last — weeks?
She got the pouffe and sat in front of him.
— You’re in me way, look it, he said.
She said it louder.
— Why haven’t yeh answered me?
— Get lost, will yeh; I have.
Jimmy Sr’d been taken by surprise. He tried to look around Sharon. She leaned back — it wasn’t easy — and turned off the telly.
— Yeh haven’t, she said. — Yeh haven’t said hello to me properly in ages.
Jimmy Sr was never going to admit anything like that.
— You’re imaginin’ things, he said.
— No, I’m not.
She looked straight at him. There wasn’t any shaking in her voice. She just spoke. She was a bit frightening.
— I’ll tell yeh the last time yeh spoke to me.
— I said hello to yeh yesterday.
— Yeh didn’t. Not properly. The last time yeh said hello to me properly was before the night yeh got hit in the nose.
— Now listen; that’s not true.
— It is. An’ you know it.
Jimmy Sr wondered if he’d be able to get past her and up to bed. He thought she was capable of trying to stop him.
— Are yeh goin’ to tell me why? Sharon asked him.
He looked as if he was going to get up. She didn’t know what she’d do if he did that. She’d follow him.
— There’s nothin’ to tell, for fuck sake, said Jimmy Sr.
— It’s me, isn’t it?
— Go up to bed, will yeh.
— It is, said Sharon. — I can tell.
Sharon nearly had to stop herself from grinning as she asked the next question.
— Did I do somethin’ to yeh?
Jesus, she was asking him had she done something: had she done something! She could sit there and—
— You’ve done nothin’, Sharon.
— I’ll tell yeh what I’ve done.
Her voice had softened. The bitch; he couldn’t have a proper row with her that way.
— I’m pregnant. — I saw yeh lookin’ at me.
Jimmy Sr said nothing yet.
— I’ve disgraced the family.
— No.
— Don’t bother denyin’ it, Daddy. I’m not givin’ out.
The look on his face gave her the sick for a minute.
— I’ve been stupid, she said. — An’ selfish. I should’ve known. An’ I know tha’ you still think it was Mister Burgess an’ that makes it worse.
— I don’t think it was—
— Ah ah! she very gently gave out to him. — You were great. Yeh did your best to hide it.
— Ah, Sharon—
— If I leave it’ll be the best for everyone. Yeh can get back to normal.
— Leave.
— Yeah. Leave. Go. Yeh know what I mean.
She stopped herself from getting too cheeky.
— I’m only bringin’ trouble for you an’ Mammy, so I’m — Me an’ Jackie are goin’ to get a flat. Okay?
— You’re not goin’?
— I am. I want to. It’s the best. Nigh’ night.
She went upstairs.
— Ah Sharon, no.
Sharon got undressed. She wondered if it would work; what he was thinking; was he feeling guilty or what. The face on him when she was talking to him; butter wouldn’t melt in his fuckin’ mouth, the bastard. She got into bed. She wondered if she’d be here next week. God, she hoped so. She didn’t want to move into a flat, even with Jackie. She’d seen some. She didn’t want to be by herself, looking after herself and the baby. She wanted to stay here so the baby would have a proper family and the garden and the twins and her mammy to look after it so she could go out sometimes. She didn’t want to leave. What was he thinking down there?
Jimmy Sr sat back and stretched.
Victory: he’d won. Without having to admit anything himself, he’d got her to admit that she was the one in the wrong. She was to blame for all this, and he’d been great. She’d said it herself.
Jimmy Sr stretched further and sank down in the couch. He punched his fists up into the air.
— Easy! Easy! he roared quietly.
He’d won. He’d got what he wanted.
— Here we go, here we go, here we go!
He stood up.
He could get back to normal now. He’d drive her all the way to work on Monday, right up to the door. He’d bring her out for a drink at tea-time on Sunday, up to the Hikers. He’d insist.
He switched on the telly to have a quick look and see if there was a good video on. There was a filthy one they sometimes showed after midnight. No; it was only some shower of wankers running down a beach. He switched it off.
He was glad it was over. He preferred being nice. It was easier.
Sharon had been great there, the way she’d taken the blame. Fair play to her. She was a great young one; the way she’d just sat there and said her bit, and none of the fuckin’ water works that you usually got. Any husband of Sharon’s would have his work cut out for him.
Tomorrow he’d tell her not to leave.
* * *
He told her when she came down for her breakfast. Veronica was there too but she was determined not to have anything to do with it. She was sick of the two of them.
— No, Daddy, said Sharon. — Thanks, but I’ve made me mind up.
— But there’s no need, Sharon.
— No; you’ve been great. So have you, Mammy.
— I know.
— Hang on, Veronica; this is serious. You can’t go, Sharon. I won’t let yeh.
— Try fuckin’ stoppin’ me.
— Now there’s no need for tha’ now. We want yeh to stay here with us an’ have it—
He nodded and pointed.
— the baby there, with us. Don’t we?
Veronica didn’t look up from Tracy’s ballroom dress.
— Yes, she said.
Sharon stopped spreading the Flora on her brownbread.
— I’m goin’.
Jimmy Sr believed her.
— When?
— After dinner.
— Wha’!? Today?
— Yeah.
— Ah, for fuck sake, Sharon—
Jimmy Jr walked in. He wasn’t looking the best. He headed for the fridge.
— Why aren’t you in work? said Jimmy Sr.
— Wha’?
Jimmy Jr’s head came out of the fridge.
— It’s alrigh’. I’ll phone in. I’ll work me day off. Is there anny Coke?
— No.
— Or annythin’ with bubbles in it?
— Go down to the shops, said Veronica.
— I’d never make it.
He sat down carefully and stared at the table.
Sharon was cursing him. Now she’d have to start again.
— It’s the best thing to do, she said.
— What’s tha’? said Jimmy Sr. — No. Fuck it, Sharon; this is your home.
His voice didn’t sound right. It was shivery. He coughed.