Gurriers (15 page)

I was caught at the next light myself about another mile further in which gave me time to reflect on the whole incident. In retrospect, he had only taken off in a way to minimise the time it would take him to get to his next destination, similar to his objective back at Superquinn. My bumbling at the lights had been totally my fault and yet I went after him with a vengeance, endangering him with recklessness just for doing the job better than I was. It’s the whole boy racer mentality - hating to be overtaken. I made a mental note to myself to watch out and beware of such demons within, demons responsible, no doubt, for the loss of very many lives.

I was watching out for this light going green, catching the reflection of the other direction going red on the sliver of the cover over it that I could see, and I was away as soon as it changed, feeling, I imagined, like a school bully must have felt after beating up a smaller kid in the playground.

The coast road brought me through Clontarf and then Fairview, over Annesley Bridge and into the city centre via Amiens Street past Connolly Station. I pulled over to the kerb just after the pedestrian crossing that brought people from the train station over to Talbot Street.

Now it was time to radio in. “Four Sean.”

While waiting for an answer I turned, for no particular reason, and looked at the escalator carrying people from the street up to the station. I was instantly and ferociously struck with a devastating flashback of myself and Saoirse happily riding that same escalator together the weekend we had gone to Belfast. It overwhelmed me completely. My eyes instantly filled with tears, my bottom lip went into convulsions and I could feel myself shaking like a leaf; so much so that I had to turn back to face the same way as the bike to prevent me from losing my balance.

“Four Sean, go ahead.”

I was in no state of mind to broadcast whatever voice I could muster up over the air. I tried to say “go ahead” out loud without pushing the button, just to see how bad it would sound. A
shaky, gargling croak was the only sound that managed to escape my attempt at cohesion. A large solitary tear escaped from my left eye and sprinted its way down my contorted face.

“Four Sean, four”

The shaky right hand managed to find its way to the radio and depress the button.

You can do it, Sean! I thought. “G…g…go ah…ahead.”

“You’re on Amiens Street now, yeah?”

“R-roger.”

“I have one comin’ inte the base for you. Goin’ to Blackrock, grab a sambo or whatever on the way over an’ ye can have an early lunch while we see wha’ else comes in for ye.”

Food! At the mention of food I realised that I was very hungry at that point in time, and would possibly have eaten something along the way that morning if I hadn’t been so preoccupied. I was going to treat myself to a big yummie roll, which I was going to eat in the base with workmates that I was going to get to know better, as I learned about this job from them.

Life goes on. I forced as powerful a cough as I could from my lungs in an effort to clear my throat. I could already feel my eyes drying themselves up, as I replied with maybe a tad too much gusto behind it.

“Roger, Aidan, thanks very much.”

Ten minutes later I was deciding not to lock the bike outside the base as I dismounted, armed with a chicken tikka baguette which would be devoured as soon as I got my hungry little paws on it.

I paused at the door, frozen by the realisation that I was only going into this building for the second time ever, with the first time still incredibly less than 24 hours previous. What a truly amazing 24 hours though, so full of activity and new things and new places and new people.

I was still plagued by the same pain and despair, but now there was a sprinkling of hope present. I had dwelled less on my heartache and dealt better with it in the past 24 hours than in any other 24 hours since my world fell apart. That was a prom
ising indication that I was on the mend, that I would make it through this dark episode of my life, eventually.

“Onwards and upwards, Sean,” I mumbled to myself as I opened the door.

Turning to close it, I realised that this time, without noticing, I had parked my bike beside those of the other couriers instead of at a distance like the previous day.

That made me smile.

“Onwards and upwards!”

It’s true that first impressions last and somewhere in the back of my mind I expected the base to have the same people in it today as it had the previous day. As it happened, there wasn’t a single person in the canteen that I recognised. There was a different atmosphere also: much more momentum. There was one courier at the table with three envelopes stacked beside the street finder that he was deeply engrossed in. Two helmets also sat atop the table with another two on the windowsill to my left. There was, of course, a courier at the hatch: writing furiously in his signature book as the work was despatched to him. There were two more couriers - in what seemed to be an agitated discussion about the location of some house in Foxrock – facing each other beside the wall between the map and the kitchen door. One of them had his helmet balanced on his head in the same manner as I had seen Shay employ the previous day.

As I entered the canteen, another courier came up from the opposite corner where there was a corridor down to the toilets. He made his way towards the map - putting him on a direct collision course with my route to the hatch. All of these couriers were wearing their jackets and radios and none of them were
hanging around. It must have been a combination of equipment, boots, helmets, activity and general scariness but I had a very distinct flash of a feeling that someone in Star Trek must have felt when beaming aboard a Klingon ship.

I shoved my helmet up to balance on my head like the others. It made sense not to carry it and would enable me to hear clearly at the hatch. I paused to let the collision course courier cross my path unhindered and got rewarded with the barest of nods, which was plenty of acknowledgment for me. The courier at the hatch was backing away slowly, still writing in his book, so there was space for me to approach the base controller. I was a little bit unsure of what to say but had decided just to let him know that I was in the canteen and let him bring up the topic of the job for Blackrock he had spoken about.

Another slight pause as the hatch courier finished writing and made a bee-line for the exit, pausing only to grab one of the windowsill helmets. Aidan happened to be looking through the hatch as I popped into view, which was a bonus, although it caught me slightly off guard, causing me to freeze for a fraction of a second before making a silly effort of a face at him that was supposed to say, “I’m here!”, but made me feel as if I was saying, “I’m a geek!”

He looked at me with a slightly puzzled look on his face for an instant before picking up a white A4 envelope from where it lay beside the microphone and handing it through the hatch to me.

“Here’s tha’ Blackrock; I’ve nuttin’ else for ye a’ the moment. Did ye ge’ sum’in’ to ea’?”

I nodded enthusiastically while pointing at the courier bag. The helmet slipped backwards and would have fallen off the back of my head if I hadn’t grabbed it. Aidan looked puzzled again. I could feel myself reddening as I wondered what it was exactly that made people act so nerdishly when they were nervous. I lowered my gaze to the floor while taking the envelope from him.

“Rie, you have yer lunch an’ I’ll let ye know if I ge’ an’tin’ else goin’ south: one other thing, Sean…”

I looked up from my bag into which I had been shoving the envelope he had just given me.

“Ye should always read and memosise the address of an envelope before ye pu’ it in yer bag.”

I knew that. That’s exactly what I said to myself yesterday on my very first job. I was disgusted for having to be told something that I had figured out for myself and it must have shown, for Aidan seemed to feel obliged to make me feel a bit better about things.

“Just a tip - bu’ it could save ye a whole lo’ of messin’ abou’.”

I felt genuinely foolish as I fished the envelope back out of my bag to read and memorise the address: Heinz Ireland, Strad-brook House, Stradbrook Road. It was as if I had failed a test. As an afterthought, I took the other envelope out for scrutiny and was delighted to see that it was going to the German Embassy on Trimlestown Road. I knew exactly where that was because one of my friends from school had lived beside it. Having replaced this envelope also, I looked up from the bag to re-assure Aidan that his instructions had been followed but his attention had returned to the microphone, leaving me standing there musing to myself that I was going to get very familiar with the sight of this man’s right ear.

“Roger, Vinno, start rollin’ in. Fifteen John, fifteen.”

I returned my attention to the bag to take out my baguette when I heard a loud but familiar voice bellowing from the table.

“Ah for fuck’s sake, Paddy, how long does it bleedin’ take ye to look up a few addresses?” Ray had emerged from the kitchen with a steaming cup in one hand and a paper bag that did little to conceal the square shape of the sandwich in the other. I was delighted to see a familiar face.

“Ask me bollix, Ray.”

“If ye’re no’ up to findin’ places, ye should look for a dif’rent job man!”

“Fuck off.”

“Or maybe ye’re havin’ trubble readin’ – d’ye need help wi’
any big words?”

“You’ll need help takin’ yer balls ou’ of yer stomick after the fuckin’ kick I’ll give ye!”

“Ooh! Touched a nerve, did we? Now ge’ this crap off the table ou’ of me way till I ge’ me bi’ of lunch into me.”

“Ye prob’ly haven’t go’ any balls to kick!”

“Never let an angry woman go down on ye Paddy: that’s what Granpa one ball used to say!”

Paddy, gathering his envelopes and map, had to turn away from Ray to hide his big smirk from him. Ray jumped into the seat Paddy had been in almost before he was properly out of it.

“For fuck’s sake, Ray!” Paddy protested but kept moving away.

“Fuckin’ starvin’!” Ray attacked the sandwich bag voraciously as if Paddy no longer existed. I knew how he felt. I waited for the fraction of a second it took for Paddy to get away from the table before approaching it, gingerly placing my lunch on the corner. I then sat down facing the side wall at right angles to Ray who faced the back office window. I took off my helmet and put it with the other two, took my bag and radio off (not quite as awkwardly as before) and dropped them on the floor beside my chair – having noticed that Ray’s bag and radio were on the floor beside that chair – then off with the jacket for the chicken tikka baguette assault.

I caught Ray’s eye as I was about to bite into my lunch and nodded the same fraction of a nod to him as the other courier had to me moments before. He had his mouth crammed full already and thankfully just nodded back instead of trying to talk to me. We ate in silence for a while. I was amused to catch myself taking bigger bites than I normally do and overfilling my mouth in the same fashion as Ray packed his. My mother would have slapped me on the back of the head for such atrocious table manners but eating this way made me feel at home here. Thinking about my mother reminded me that I had neglected to wash my hands – which I wasn’t happy with. I was too shy in this company to get up and wash them now so I just arranged the paper bag around the baguette as my unclean hands never had to touch it and carried on eating, scolding myself for the
lack of hygiene. Ray finished before me (well, technically he had none left in his hands but loads left in his mouth) and struck up a conversation.

“You’re Four Sean, yeah?”

I doubled my chewing speed and swallowed early to try and reduce the volume of food in my mouth to an acceptable level for response, but I was nodding my head at the same time so he continued.

“Mutton Head,” he said, gesturing with his head towards the hatch, “had i’ in for Barry: I bleedin’ warned ‘im to keep ‘is nose clean bu’ ‘e wouldn’ listen.”

I was still eating at warp speed but not yet ready to talk and I had a question to ask Ray. It startled me when an arm brushed off my shoulder unexpectedly and I spun in my seat to realise that it was one of the couriers who had been at the map reaching over to get his helmet off the table. He was surprised by my over-reaction.

“Sorry, man.”

“Er – it’s Okay,” I sheepishly replied, feeling silly for being so jumpy.

“Here, Dave, d’ye know where ye’re goin’?”

“I always know where I’m goin’, Ray.”

“Then how come ye’re such a slow bastard at the job?”

“Ge—et!” Dave jumped in Ray’s direction with his right hand raised as if to give him a back-hand slap. This sent Ray diving towards the wall even though there was no real threat. He wore the same grin as he had the previous day during the whole pizza episode. This man just loved to wind people up. Dave carried on past him and left the building without any further comment. At this stage I had reduced the food in my mouth enough to be able to talk.

“Do ye think he’d be upset with me havin’ his number?”

“Wha’ d’ye mean? Barry?”

“Yeah, well, he’d only been fired two minutes when Mutton Head gave me his number.”

“So?”