The Gamal (36 page)
—Yeah. Yes.
—How come he was so quick to disbelieve her? Why didn’t he believe that she was raped?
—Well, he wanted to go straight to the gardaí that night he found out but she wouldn’t. And the way she said it in the pub anyway sounded very dodgy like . . . a bit like grasping at straws like.
—I see. But then he got back with her, is that correct?
—Yes. After a while like. Maybe a few months. Maybe more. Can’t really remember like to be honest.
—OK. So he’s in a relationship with her again. For how long this time, would you say?
—Ahm. About. I don’t know. Couple of months maybe. He was in Dublin like. Could’ve been more.
—And all this time he was in Dublin, she remained in Ballyronan. Is that correct?
—Yes.
—Even though she’d promised to go to Dublin with him, is that so?
—Yes. She stayed.
—So then on another weekend night when James was back in Ballyronan, in Roundy’s, he sees the Little Rascal wearing the Afghan scarf and confronted him. Is that so?
—Yes.
—He ended his relationship then with Sinéad finally, is that correct?
—Yes, sir. Yes, I mean.
—Thank you, Denis. That will be all for the moment.
That’s pretty much how all that happened all right. I can just remember Dinky acting like he was standing up for James by telling the Little Rascal to fuck off and the Rascal only laughing back at Dinky and Dinky looking away. James stormed off out and Sinéad went out after him but she never caught up with him. She looked at me as if I could tell her what to do and I shrugged my shoulders. She went off home crying.
I was going to go home but I wanted to see what the gossip with the rest of them was. It was a long night. Couldn’t face going into it now to be honest. I’ll give you some court transcripts instead awhile and I’ll come back to that night another time. Someone had seen me and Sinéad talking down at the river some night and this lawyer wanted to know all about it.
—And what were you talking about?
—Ahm. Talked about like them frying pans with the non-stick.
—Excuse me?
—Like . . . the ones that the rashers don’t stick to when you’re frying them. And the wipers that come on every now and again.
—Windscreen wipers, is it?
—Yeah . . . windscreen wipers. The ones that come on every few seconds when it’s not raining only drizzling.
—And that’s what you spoke about? For over two hours.
—Yeah . . . that and other stuff.
—What other stuff did you talk about?
—Other clever stuff.
—Other clever stuff?
—Yeah.
—Like what?
—Like the tin openers. The blue ones.
—Blue tin openers?
—Yeah. The new ones from the telly. Just put it on top of the tin and twist and it’s open. Way easier than the old ones.
—I see. And did you talk about James?
—No.
—You answered that very quickly. Why did you say ‘No’ so quickly, Charlie? . . . Well?
—Objection. Completely subjective.
—Cos it’s only a small word.
—Charles, when your council objects it means that he thinks the question Mr Cole has asked you is unfair. Do you understand that, Charlie?
—Yeah.
—So you don’t have to answer it unless I say you need to answer it, is that OK, Charlie?
—Yeah.
—Now I want the jury to disregard Charlie’s answer to that question, please. Do you all understand that? Fine. Mr Cole, I’ll ask you to deal with what Charlie says not the manner in which he says it, please.
—Of course, Your Lordship.
—Carry on.
—OK, Charlie. We’re nearly done for now. What else did you talk about with Sinéad, Charlie?
—Ahm. Nothing.
—For two hours?
—Yeah.
—How could you both sit there and say nothing for over two hours? What were you doing?
—Just listened like. To the river. Seen a few shooting stars. And the moon. It moved across the sky behind the trees. Couldn’t see it no more but you could see it in the water. The reflection of it.
—And you left after that, did you?
—Yeah.
—Were you the first to leave or was it Sinéad’s idea?
—Yeah.
—Which is it? Was it Sinéad’s idea to leave?
—Yeah.
—What did she say?
—She said would I walk her back?
—And what did you say?
—Yeah.
—You said you would?
—Yeah.
—And did you?
—Yeah.
—OK. And was she upset at any stage?
—No.
—Was she crying at any stage during your talk?
—No.
—And did she seem sad?
—No.
—And did you talk on your way back to her house?
—Yeah.
—What about?
—Only a little bit.
—What did you talk about?
—Toasters.
—Toasters?
—Yeah. Long ago they had to hold the bread in front of the fire stuck on to a stick so you wouldn’t burn your hand.
—OK. That’s fine for the moment, Charlie.
Two Gods
One time I went to the church in the evening time to scare a fella into doing the right thing by giving him a sign. That’s what I thought I was doing at the time anyhow.
Snoozie had two gods. Teesh and the Holy one. Every Sunday sure as shit the lads would go down to Roundy’s while their parents were at Mass. Since they were about fifteen. Custom to them. Same as Mass was custom to their parents. Slip off out the back of the church and go down. Mostly fellas would be in their late twenties or early thirties before moving out. Maybe that’s why they lived in the pub whenever they could. Anyhow, in all this there was one unlikely exception. Whatever is there that puts breath in us all and whatever it is that makes the world whatever it is, to our eyes or any other eyes or any such things creatures might have for seeing or sensing or feeling or gaining understanding of, whatever it is it did this, it gave Snoozie an unwavering belief that God was the thing. And that God is good. And that God is love. And that God is all powerful. And that if you prayed to God it helped. And that not going to Mass on a Sunday was a sin. And that sins could make you go to hell. Or purgatory. Or at least were no help at all in getting to heaven. All the mocking in the world from the other god in his life, Teesh, fell on deaf Christian ears.
—Holy Joe is in, Teesh would say if he was inside in the pub before Snoozie would arrive back from Mass on Sundays.
Funny thing then. Snoozie comes over to me at training earlier. I went down to watch the lads training with the father just to shut him up. Anyhow the father was over talking to some other fella and Snoozie comes over to me. Says he knew it was me in the church long ago. That he’d seen me. I looked at him half agog.
—I was scared that God had brought you there, that’s all. That’s what I was scared of. That was sign enough for me.
He stared at me looking at him slantwise.
—I dreamed something you see. I dreamed you came up to me in the church. And it was empty except for Sinéad. Sinéad was standing behind you in the dream. Crying she was. Crying. And not just sad girly little crying. Wild angry crying it was. And the eyes on her and she looking at me. Very frightening. You put something into my hand then and I looked down and it was my scapular. When I looked up, yourself and Sinéad were gone. Next thing I’m up at the church for real and who do I see only you. I’m sorry I gave you such a fright that you knocked the statue but I was shitting it.
His eyes were watering.
—Shitting it I was.
—Yeah, I said.
—Went up there to feel God’s protection but when I seen you in his house I knew I didn’t have no protection from him until I put my story right. So next day that’s what I done. And the Lord Our God is in my heart now more than ever before. Mightn’t have much friends any more but who needs the like of Teesh for a friend anyhow. God is a friend that’ll never let you down. Ever. Remember that Gamal. God is with you always. You mightn’t know much but God has a plan even for you. It was God brought you to the church that evening to put the shits up me so I’d tell the truth in court. And it was God had me dreaming of you and Sinéad the night before. God has us all in the palm of his hand Gamal.
—Yeah, I said.
—I thought I was with God before but it was only after all that that I knew what it meant to walk with God. We were all part of a badness. An evil. The devil was at work in us. We can be part of a force for goodness too, can’t we?
—Yeah, I said.
—Dunno about you Gamal, but I seen the Light of Christ. Have you?
—Yeah.
I’d heard that he was after getting involved with some funny Christian crowd. The father said it was a cult and the mother goes it’s just a different religion and the father goes it’s a cult. Snoozie was there in my ear cos he thought he had it and he went on and on and on but he was really talking to himself cos I was thinking about Dr Quinn long ago when I met him for the first time and I sitting in his office in more pain than I ever dreamed a man would ever feel. Said to me that even Our Lord needed help carrying the cross. Everyone needs help sometimes to get them through their troubles isn’t it? And God is there for someone when they’re all alone. Dr Quinn sees himself when he gets out of bed every morning as being like the lad who helped Jesus carry his cross. Imitation is what it is really isn’t it? Imitation. Except it’s mad people he’s helping. I haven’t really done nothing out in the world to help no one. Helped myself. And I never even did that too much either. I’ve a lot of making up to do for my sins. And I don’t mean for God. There’s no God for the like of me. But I’d dislike me less if I did some good for people. Same as Dr Quinn does. And all the other good people in the world.
When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known
That’s another cut and paste job. It’s only sixty words like so I’m not gaining a whole pile from it. It’s from the Bible. Not sure if I understand the end of it. Thought I could fit it in here cos by this point in my story I really was seeing through a glass darkly and I had to put away childish things. Or at least start finding a way out of the only world that was there for you when you were the village gamal. I didn’t want no part in it any more. Anyhow maybe the quote makes sense for this part of my story or maybe I’m only bluffing. Maybe the fella who wrote it first day was a bit of a bluffer too, even if Holy God was prompting him a bit. Wish he’d prompt me a bit. Save me robbing stuff off the fucking internet. ‘For All We Know’ sang by Nina Simone goes here then.
Because my mother played it downstairs and fucked me up altogether. ‘For All We Know’ was to blame. Wasn’t Sinéad’s favourite Nina Simone song but she listened to it to understand what was happening with the piano. The singing stayed at the same tempo but the piano changed in different parts of the song. She’d never heard anything like that before. Neither have most people but they don’t play it over and over, pausing it and going back over bits. At the time it all seemed normal enough. Seems silly now. Maybe Sinéad shouldn’t have been so obsessed with music in her life cos there’s more to life isn’t it?
Didn’t end up doing anything after I heard it. After the mother played it. Just lied down on the bed. Headache’s gone now. And the shakes. But I haven’t written anything in two weeks. Didn’t get out the bed the first week sure. All over a song. I’d want to fucking harden up a small bit.
I put in a chapter there. Forgot about them really. Don’t really give a fuck about them any more. This is the last chapter. I have to just do this or Dr Quinn will be sickening to be listening to on Tuesday.
More of Dinky’s Evidence
—How did you know Sinéad?
—Well . . . like . . . I knew her all my life. I hung around with herself and James and a few more. We been friends since we were kids.
—Were you ever in a relationship with Sinéad Halloran?
—With Sinéad? No. Never. She was going out with James nearly her whole life sure.
—Isn’t it true that you were instrumental in the break-up of the relationship of James Kent and Sinéad Halloran?
