The Barrytown Trilogy (15 page)

Outspan and Derek were sitting beside him on the bunk.

—This is The Byrds, righ’, said Jimmy. —I’ll Feel a Whole Lot Better.

He let the needle down and sat on the back of his legs between the speakers.

There was a bit of a crackle (it was a second-hand album), then a guitar jangled and then they were surrounded by jangling guitars. They’d no time to get ready.

—THE REASON WHY — EE——
OH I CAN’T STAY — AY — Y——
I HAVE TO LET YOU GO BAY —AYBE——
AND RIGHT AWAY — AY — Y ——
AFTER ALL YOU DID ———
I CAN’T STAY OH—H—H—ON—
AND I’LL PROBABLY —

Two high-pitched men joined in here.

—FEEL A WHOLE LOT BETTER —
WHEN YOU’RE GOH — ON —

The lads weren’t bouncing up and down on the bunk for this music. They were throwing their heads and chests out and back, out and back. Their feet didn’t tap: they slammed. Outspan strummed the air.

—BABY FOR A LONG TIME —

The other Byrds repeated the line.

—BABY FOR A LONG TIME—

—YOU HAD ME BELIE — IE — IEVE —

The others: —YOU HAD ME BELIEVE—

—THAT YOUR LOVE WAS ALL MI — I — I — INE —

The others: — YOUR LOVE WAS ALL MINE—

—AND THAT’S THE WAY IT WOULD BE ———EE— EE—

The others: —LAA —
AAH —
   AAH—
      AAAAAH ——

Thirty seconds into the song the lads wanted to be The Byrds. They’d been demolished by the rip-roaring guitars and Gene Clark’s manly whinge. It was sweet and rough at the same time. The guitars raced each other.

It was the best they’d ever heard. They didn’t just hear it either. They were in its way. It went through them. Man’s music.

—AFTER WHAT YOU DI — I — ID —

The other Byrds: —AFTER WHAT YOU DID —

—I CAN’T STAY ON — OH — ON —

The others: —I CAN’T STAY ON —

All The Byrds: —AND I’LL PROBABLY —
FEEL A WHOLE LOT BETTER —

WHEN YOU’RE GOH — ON ——

OH WHEN YOU’RE GOH — ON ——

OH WHEN YOU’RE GOH — ON ——

OH WHEN YOU’RE GOH — ON ——

More jangling guitars winding down and it was over.

Jimmy got the needle up quickly. The next track, The Bells
of Rhymney, was a piece of hippy shite and he didn’t want the lads to hear it.

—Tha’ was fuckin’ rapid, said Outspan. —Play it again, Jimmy.

—Deadly, wasn’t it? said Derek.

—Listen to this, said Mickah.

—BABY FOR A LON TAM——

YEH HAD ME BEL — EE — EE — EE — EVE—

—My Jaysis, Mickah! ——Fair play to yeh.

—We’ve a singer, said Jimmy.

—An’ you could play the drums, Jimmy, said Derek.

—Yeah, said Outspan. —Just the four of us, wha’. No pricks.

—Is tha’ wha’ we want? Jimmy asked them.

That was what they wanted.

—Bass, guitar, drums an’ Mickah, said Derek. —Rapid.

—Play it again, said Outspan.

—Hang on, said Jimmy. —Could you play like tha’?

—No problem to me, said Outspan.

—The bass sounds easier than for soul, said Derek.

—We’ll need two guitars.

—We will in our arses, said Outspan. —I’ll use both hands.

—Good thinkin’.

—Wha’ abou’ James?

—We’ll let him in when he’s a doctor, said Mickah. —Tha’ comes first.

—Tha’ won’t be for ages.

Jimmy spoke. —He’ll be a doctor abou’ the same time we’re puttin’ our third album together. An’ we’ll need a gentler sound, righ’, a new direction, like, after the first two cos they’ll be real country-punk albums. James’ piano will fit in nicely then.

—That’s grand. ———Will we tell him?

—No. We’ll keep it as a surprise for him.

—Play it again, said Outspan.

—Wha’ abou’ the girls? said Derek.

—Wha’ abou’ them?

—Will we let them in?

—Ah, yeah, said Outspan. —The girls are sound.

—I know, said Mickah. —They could wear tha’ Dolly Parton sort o’ clobber. Yeh know, the frilly bits on the elbows an’ tha’ sort o’ shi’e.

—Do we want the girls? Jimmy asked.

They did.

—They could give us a rest, said Derek. —They could sing a few slowies. For the oul’ ones.

—An’ the young ones.

—That’s the lot though, righ’, said Jimmy. —No fuckin’ politics this time either. ———But, yeh know, Joey said when he left tha’ he didn’t think soul was righ’ for Ireland. This stuff is though. You’ve got to remember tha’ half the country is fuckin’ farmers. This is the type o’ stuff they all listen to. ——Only they listen to it at the wrong speed.

—We’ll put them righ’ though, wha’. Play it again, Jimmy, will yeh.

—Will we have names? Derek asked.

—Ah Jaysis, no, said Jimmy. —Not tha’ shi’e again. This is different.

Outspan agreed with him.

—Would yis mind, said Mickah, —if I had a bit of a name?

—Wha’?

—Tex.

They laughed. They liked it.

Tex Wallace. ——It sounds righ’, doesn’t it? said Mickah.

Jimmy was putting the needle down when he thought of something else.

—Oh yeah, he said. —We don’t have a name. ——Anny ideas?

Well, said Derek. —Yeh know thé way they’re The Byrds an’ Bird is another name for a girl, righ’? ——Couldn’t we be The Brassers?

It was a great name.

—Dublin country, said Jimmy. —That’s fuckin’ perfect. The Brassers. ———We’re a Dublin country group.

—That’s an excellent name, Derek, said Outspan.

—Ah ———I just thought of it, yeh know.

Jimmy put the needle back on its stand.

—Another thing I forgot to tell yis. ——I was in touch with your man, Dave, from Eejit Records, remember? I asked him would he be interested in a country-punk version o’ Night Train, an’ he said he migh’ be.

—That’s brilliant, said Derek.

—Hang on, said Mickah.

—STARTIN’ OU’ IN MULLINGAR

MOVIN’ ON OU’ TO KINNEGAD ——Somethin’ like tha’?

—That’s very good, said Jimmy.

They laughed.

—That’s very good, alrigh’, said Outspan. —I like tha’. Fair play.

Jimmy had the needle ready.

—Righ’, lads, give us a month an’ this’ll be us.

He let the needle down.

—Deadly, said Derek.

This book is dedicated to
Belinda

—You’re wha’? said Jimmy Rabbitte Sr.

He said it loudly.

—You heard me, said Sharon.

Jimmy Jr was upstairs in the boys’ room doing his D.J. practice. Darren was in the front room watching Police Academy II on the video. Les was out. Tracy and Linda, the twins, were in the front room annoying Darren. Veronica, Mrs Rabbitte, was sitting opposite Jimmy Sr at the kitchen table.

Sharon was pregnant and she’d just told her father that she thought she was. She’d told her mother earlier, before the dinner.

—Oh —my Jaysis, said Jimmy Sr.

He looked at Veronica. She looked tired. He looked at Sharon again.

—That’s shockin’, he said.

Sharon said nothing.

—Are yeh sure? said Jimmy Sr.

—Yeah. Sort of.

—Wha’?

—Yeah.

Jimmy Sr wasn’t angry. He probably wouldn’t be either, but it all seemed very unfair.

—You’re only nineteen, he said.

—I’m twenty.

—You’re only twenty.

—I know what age I am, Daddy.

—Now, there’s no need to be gettin’ snotty, said Jimmy Sr.

—Sorry, said Sharon.

She nearly meant it.

—I’m the one tha’ should be gettin’ snotty, said Jimmy Sr.

Sharon made herself smile. She was happy with the way things were going so far.

—It’s shockin’, said Jimmy Sr again, —so it is. Wha’ do you think o’ this?

He was talking to Veronica.

—I don’t know, said Veronica.

—Is tha’ the best yeh can do, Veronica?

—Well, what do
YOU
think?

Jimmy Sr creased his face and held it that way for a second.

—I don’t know, he said. —I should give ou’, I suppose. An’ throw a wobbler or somethin’. But ——what’s the point?

Veronica nodded. She looked very tired now.

Jimmy Sr continued.

—If she was —

He turned to Sharon.

—You should’ve come to us earlier —before, yeh know —an’ said you were goin’ to get pregnant.

The three of them tried to laugh.

—Then we could’ve done somethin’ abou’ it. ——My God, though.

No one said anything. Then Jimmy Sr spoke to Sharon again.

—You’re absolutely sure now? Positive?

—Yeah, I am. I done—

—Did, said Veronica.

—I did the test.

—The test? said Jimmy Sr. —Oh. —Did yeh go in by yourself?

—Yeah, said Sharon.

—Did yeh? Fair play to yeh, said Jimmy Sr. —I’d never’ve thought o’ tha’.

Sharon and Veronica looked at each other, and grinned quickly.

Jimmy Sr got down to business.

—Who was it?

—Wha’? ——Oh. I don’t know.

—Ah now, Jaysis —!

—No, I do know.

—Well, then?

—I’m not tellin’.

Jimmy Sr could feel himself getting a bit angry now. That was better.

—Now, look —

They heard Jimmy Jr from up in the boys’ room.

—
THIS IS JIMMY RABBITTE – ALL – OVER – IRELAND
.

—Will yeh listen to tha’ fuckin’ eejit, said his father.

—Leave him alone, said Veronica.

Jimmy Sr stared at the ceiling.

—I don’t know.

Then he turned to Sharon again.

—Why won’t yeh tell us?

Sharon said nothing. Jimmy Sr saw her eyes filling with water.

—Don’t start tha’, he told her. —Just tell us.

—I can’t, Sharon told the table.

—Why not?

——I just can’t, righ’.

Jimmy Sr looked across at Veronica and shook his head. He’d never been able to cope with answers like that. If Sharon had been one of the boys he’d have walloped her.

Veronica looked worried now. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the answer.

—Is he married? Jimmy Sr asked.

—Oh my God, said Veronica.

—No, he’s not! said Sharon.

—Well, that’s somethin’, I suppose, said Jimmy Sr. —Then why —

Veronica started crying.

—Ah Veronica, stop tha’.

Linda ran in.

—Daddy, Darren’s after hittin’ me.

She was getting ready to cry.

—Jesus! Another one, said Jimmy Sr.

Then he spoke to Linda.

—I’ll go in in a minute an’ I’ll hit Darren an’ you can watch me hittin’ him.

—Can I?

—Yeah, yeh can. Now get ou’ or I’ll practise on you first.

Linda squealed and ran away from him. She stopped at the safe side of the kitchen door.

—Can Tracy watch as well? she asked.

—She can o’ course. Now, your mammy an’ Sharon an’ me are havin’ a chat, so leave us alone.

Jimmy Sr looked at the two women. The crying had stopped.

—
THIS IS JIMMY RABBITTE
–
ALL
–
OVER
–
IRELAND
.

—Oh good Jesus, what a house! ——Is he queer or wha’ is he? Jimmy Sr asked Sharon.

—No, he’s not. He’s alrigh’; leave him alone.

—I don’t know, said Jimmy Sr. —Tha’ gear he wears. He had his trous—

—That’s only the fashion.

—I suppose so. But, Jaysis.

He looked at Veronica. She just looked tired again.

—This is an awful shock, Sharon, he said. —Isn’t it, Veronica?

—Definitely.

—Make us a cup o’ tea there, love, will yeh.

—Make it yourself, said Veronica.

—I’ll make it, said Sharon.

—Good girl, said Jimmy Sr. —Mind yourself against the table there. Good girl. —You’re sure now he’s not married?

—Yeah, he’s not, said Sharon, at the sink.

—Then why won’t yeh tell us then?

—Look, said Sharon.

She turned to face him.

—I can’t, an’ I’m not goin’ to.

She turned back to plug in the kettle.

—Will he marry you? Jimmy Sr asked her.

—No. I don’t think so.

—The louser. That’s cheatin’, tha’ is.

—It’s not a game! said Veronica.

—I know, I know tha’, Veronica. But it’s his fault as much as Sharon’s. Whoever he is. ——It was his flute tha’—

—Daddy!

—Well, it was.

—It’s no wonder they all talk the way they do, Veronica gave out to Jimmy Sr.

—Ah, lay off, Veronica, will yeh.

They heard a scream from the front room.

—Hang on till I sort this young fella ou’, said Jimmy Sr.

He marched out of the kitchen.

—He’s taking it well, said Veronica.

—Yeah, said Sharon. —So are you.

—Ah sure—

—I was afraid you’d throw me ou’.

—I never thought of that, mind you. ——It’s not right though, said Veronica.

She looked straight at Sharon.

—I suppose it’s not, said Sharon.

Jimmy Sr came back, rubbing his hands and calling Darren a sneaky little bastard. He sat down and saw the tea waiting for him.

—Aah, lovely.

He sipped.

—Fuck! ——Sorry, Veronica; excuse me. It’s very hot.

—He’s started saying Excuse me. After twenty-two years.

—Good luck, Jimmy Jr roared from the front door, and then he slammed it.

—He shuts the door like a normal man annyway. That’s somethin’, I suppose.

He’s alrigh’, said Sharon.

Jimmy Sr now said something he’d heard a good few times on the telly.

—D’yeh want to keep it?

—Wha’ d’yeh mean?

—D’yeh —d’you want to keep it, like?

—He wants to know if you want to have an abortion, said Veronica. —The eejit.

—I do not! said Jimmy Sr.

This was true. He was sorry now he’d said it.

—There’s no way I’d have an abortion, said Sharon.

—Good. You’re right.

—Abortion’s murder.

—It is o’ course.

Then he thought of something and he had to squirt his tea back into the cup. He could hear his heart. And feel it.

He looked at Sharon.

—He isn’t a black, is he?

—No!

He believed her. The three of them started laughing.

—One o’ them students, yeh know, Jimmy Sr explained. —With a clatter o’ wives back in Africa.

—Stop that.

Jimmy Sr’s tea was finished.