Gurriers (19 page)

“It’s due to clear up this evening.”

I noticed him giving an anxious glance towards the door into the shopping centre. That surprised me a little because usually this sort would be happy to talk to someone, even if it meant getting a bit wet. I carried on regardless.

“Sure I’ll probably be home by the time it stops. You know, most people don’t mind the rain when they’re in work as long as it’s dry in their time off but in this job, it’d be the other way round!”

This thought induced a moment’s reflection which the old man made good use of. “Well, I’ll be wanderin’ on with me shoppin’. Good luck to ye.”

“Well, I’ll have to be moving on myself. I still have one delivery left – it’s in Dalkey, you know Colliemore Road just off the main street? Well, I do, thank God! Bye now!” I had been raising my voice as the man had been ambling gradually away from me and the farewell was heard by a lot of people on the street – some of whom even turned to look at me.

This isn’t right, Sean, I thought to myself as I started up the bike. You’re supposed to be the one trying to get away from his blabbing on, not vice versa!

I felt a little bit crazy reflecting on the barrage of information I had pounded the poor old man with. Maybe my image of a lot of pent up thoughts and emotions was more a reflection of my situation than his. For all I knew he had a wife and many grown up kids still at home and he had come to the shop for a bit of peace and quiet only to have me verbally explode at him.

I gave two short beeps to get his attention so that he saw me wave at him with my right hand prior to using it to accelerate away. He was almost at the door when he stopped and turned and waved back, just in time to be hit with a cascade of water that had run down three stories of wall. He was drenched because of me. After the merest of guilt-induced pauses, I looked away and down, as if hanging my head in shame, while accelerating away – hard. So hard that the front wheel actually came up a few inches off the ground (this was mostly because I was pointed uphill though – the same power applied in a downhill
direction would never lift the wheel).

All I wanted to do was to make things better for this poor old man to whom my heart went out to so much and it was now obvious that the best way to do this was a hasty departure, so off I went.

“Four Sean, four.”

“Go ahead.”

“How are you gettin’ on there?”

“Grand.”

There was a slight pause before Aidan continued, “When I ask how you’re gettin’ on I want to be told where you are and where you’re off to next – not your fuckin’ state of well bein”!

“I’m in Sandycove heading for Dalkey.”

“Were you delayed somewhere?”

“No.”

“It’s quarter past three – you left here at ten past two to do four jobs.”

What could I say: it takes as long as it takes; it’s raining out, or it’s my first day. To be honest it took me totally by surprise to be pressurised in this way. The best I could come up with was a feeble recant on my opinion that things were going grand.

“Well, I did drive past Heinz and have to go back on myself.” I felt about two inches tall and on the verge of bursting into tears. It was truly horrible for me to have to drive in this weather without being made feel like this, especially when I thought that I was doing so well. I just seemed to mess up everything – couldn’t even be nice to an old man without scaring him away and then causing him to be the recipient of a soaking. Saoirse was right to leave me, I was a failure

“Let the base know every time there’s any delay. Call me from Dalkey.”

“Roger.” I might not have said what I wanted to over the air but I got a good sulkey voice behind the Roger. That fat, spotty bastard knew that he had annoyed me.

The rain was still pelting down as I turned onto Colliemore Road, but my spirits had picked up slightly upon reaching my destination. The more I thought about it the more I realised that
I had been delayed a fair bit in the shopping centre also, and for that matter I had to wait at the German Embassy for their security gate to open. All of these little delays added up when you were against the clock. I had no idea, of course, that I was against the clock but I learned and learned well.

I vowed never to forget that I was being timed from the base. The best thing to do was to just get this one dropped quickly and radio the base before he called me again.

“Wouldn’t it be great,” I wished optimistically to myself, “if ‘Journey’s End’ was the first house on my left?”

Slowing down to squint at the white print on the black rectangular plate on their pillar.

“No … not that one… maybe this one on the right… no… next one on the left…no. Quick… next one on the right – damn! Missed it.”

The second I touched the brakes I got beeped by a van that, unbeknownst to me who had been concentrating on house names, had been following me closely and impatiently but had been unable to pass because of oncoming traffic.

I jumped, startled by the unexpected nasty explosion of sound, and edged in to be overtaken; assessing in the process that neither of the next two houses on the left were my target destination. Even though I was only crawling along at this stage, I missed the name of the next house on the right due to the angry motorist overtaking me with a pathetic display of over acceleration heralding to the world that here was, truly, a dickhead in a transit. Unsure of what to do about the two house names I had driven past, I ended up going with my momentum to eliminate the next house on my left and just barely catching the next on the right before the next car overtook me. Even though this one had manners and did it with courtesy, it came too close to me for comfort.

This reading house names is a tricky business, I thought to myself nervously. And then the penny dropped; a real sudden and violent knotting of the stomach that can overpower a being with such a sense of impending doom instantly. Somewhere in my head the hassle of finding a house without having numbers
to follow combined with my memory of how long this road was and sparked off the possibility that this house was right at the far end of this whole road. For all I knew this was going to take all day. The rain became even heavier as if to accentuate the fact that I was miserable but I soldiered on, electing to gamble that neither of the houses I had missed was called Journey’s stinking End.

Now I seemed to be enveloped in misery, crawling along trying to find one house name with the rain pounding me so much that my “waterproof” lining had begun to let wet in. I could feel an expanding damp patch on my stomach. The soaked jacket had also been oozing onto my wrist and crotch which were now totally saturated – even through my “waterproof” leggings. My gloves had also reached their capacity and I could feel a sickening squelch every time I used my clutch or front brake.

By the time I got to the Dalkey Island Hotel, about half way along this nightmare of a road on the left hand side, I had decided that this job was just a bad idea and that the only reason I had even thought about driving a motorbike for a living was to stop me from committing suicide over her.

“Nice one, Sean – heartbreak misery on top of everything else!” I pulled over just after the hotel, with my bottom lip quivering, with every intention of flinging the letter into the sea, running into the base with my bag and radio, depositing them at the hatch and sprinting out before anybody could say a word: never to be seen again.

“Four Sean.”

I jumped, full of guilt at my intentions, as if somehow Aidan had sensed what I was considering doing. I had to compose myself before answering, “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Four Sean.” His voice sounded crackly as if the signal was weak. He obviously hadn’t heard me answer him. There was a slight tinge of panic as I tried again, louder and more pronounced.

“Yeah, go a-head.”

“Four Sean, four.”

Despite the fact that I was about to walk out of the job, a
wave of absolute panic washed over me at not being heard. The miseries of weather, nightmare address and gut wrenching heartache were all swept away by this panic. The most important thing in my life now was to be heard by the base. My brain went into overdrive.

“Think Sean, think – boost the power to the signal.” I began muttering. “No, move to a different location, no, have to stay on this poxy road until I find this shithole of a house. Height! That was it – get the radio up higher!”

“Four Sean. Four Sean, four, four, four.” It sounded kind of funny as I was scrambling to get the bag and radio off; muffled in places and loud in others like a truck driving away down a tree-lined road. As soon I had them off, I held the radio up as high as my hand could go and roared, “Four Sean.”

“Who’s calling there?”

I knew that I had to get higher. I climbed onto the granite wall – the extra three feet or so would be bound to make a difference. There was a nasty drop on the other side down to a small patch of green which was actually a part of the cliff top, so I very gingerly stood upright and raised my radio to its maximum height. A car actually slowed to a stand still to allow the occupants a better view of this ritualistic looking procedure. To hell with them – I had to be heard.

“Four Sean.”

“Go ahead, Sean.”

Yes! It had worked.

“I’m in Dalkey looking for a house.”

“Is it called Journey’s End?”

“Yes.” I answered back, astonished. How the hell did he know that?

“Go past the Dalkey Island and around the next bend – it’s the fifth house on the right. When ye have tha’ dropped, I want ye to come into BIM on Crofton Road in Dun Laoghaire – they’ll give ye one for the Phoenix park. D’ ye know Crofton Road?”

“Emm… er.” It did sound familiar but I couldn’t quite place it.

“It’s the road the Dart Station is on – BIM are the far end of i’ jus’ after the lights. Eighteen Gerry.”

That was all the directions I needed. I was almost giddy with relief as I jumped off the wall, replaced my radio, picked my bag up and put it back on and squelched my wet arse back onto the bike once more. I had been saved! Nice one, Aidan, thank you very much. Obviously he had to direct people to the kip before – explaining how he knew the exact location of it. Fair play to him, though for realising that that was the house that I was looking for, although he knew where I had picked it up. That was it! He knew the house because IT Solutions send things to this bastard of an address all the time. I was still delighted to be rescued from my misery though and he, as rescuer, had moved up several notches in my esteem.

“Three…4… there it is.”

The large black letters painted on the white pillars proudly proclaimed that here, indeed, was my Journey’s End. I had an image of choir music belting down from the heavens in joyous celebration of the finding of this unholy grail. There might as well have been, judging by the uplifting effect on my spirits. The nightmare was over.

Finding BIM with ease picked me up even more, but there was an acute sense of urgency about the way I entered the building. I wanted to get this job on board and get outside and call the base as quickly as possible to show Aidan how fast I could be.

Mercifully the receptionist had the package beside her waiting for me. I was in and out in seconds.

“Four Sean,” I radioed in.

“Go ahead.”

I was slightly out of breath. “I… have BIM… on board.”

“Roger Sean, give i’ five there an’ we’ll see if we can ge’ ye sum’in’ to’ go wi’ i’.”

Give it five - that meant a welcome smoke to me. Sheltering against the smoked glass wall of the reception, I fished my cigarettes and lighter from my inside pocket. Disaster struck; the
pack was totally waterlogged. So much for 100% waterproof! I opened the pack and selected a cigarette from the middle. It was only wet at the top which I tore off to gratefully light the remainder of it. I smoked long and deep while gazing out reflectively at the rain splashing off the bike. What a tester of a job this truly was! My resolve to hand back the bag and radio had fizzled away on finding that damned house in Dalkey, but a large part of me still wanted to pack it in. There was, however, a growing determination in me to master the job. I loved driving my bike and genuinely believed that I could get the hang of it with time. As I enjoyed my cigarette, I developed a plan of action. I was going to give the job one full week and review my position then.

“Four Sean.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“When I said give i’ five there I didn’t fuckin’ mean exactly there.” Aidan said, rather peeved. “People call couriers to carry things tha’ are fuckin’ urgent an’ expec’ them to ge’ fuckin’ goin’ as soon as they have i’ on board – noh fuckin’ gallop in, grab i’, gallop ou’ then decide to have a fuckin’ smoke rie in fronta the fuckin’ receptionist. Get the fuck away from that fuckin’ buildin’ NOW!”

I flicked the butt away, scowled in at the receptionist and trudged back to the bike. As I squelched the gloves on and slooshed onto the wet saddle, close to tears- and not for the first time that day, one angry thought dominated my tortured mind: I’m giving this damned bag and radio back to that nasty, evil bastard first thing in the morning.

For the remainder of the day, I held my resolve to quit the job. The never ending rain fully fortified that resolve with the blanket of misery that shrouded me all afternoon.