Gurriers (31 page)

The sales assistant still hadn’t moved, causing me to seek an ally to help my cause. I turned towards the lady a little quicker than would be normal, raising the condoms in the air while declaring pleadingly, “I thought it was a job!”

The next thing to occupy my muddled mind was the briefest flash of surprise at how agile the woman was for her years – especially moving backwards!

“But it was just a joke.”

The word joke decelerated her careering away from me but the horrified expression remained unchanged, and hearing the little startled screech that escaped the assistant left me with no doubt about the optimum course of action.

I addressed the girl behind the counter, but directed my gaze briefly several times to the senior lady to make sure that she felt included, as I retreated towards the door – much slower than she had from me

“I’m terribly sorry. I’m really, really sorry for interrupting you. I have been tricked. It doesn’t matter to you, of course. I’m just
sorry.”

The oddest thing happened, though, just as I got to the door and was about to depart from the chemist, much to the relief of both of the women. I got a momentary image of Ray’s joking head, laughing mischievously as he does, winking at me and saying, “Dare ye to ask the one in the whi’e coa’ ou’, Shy Boy!”

I always imagine that the grin on his face as the crazy courier apologised his way out of that situation helped to make it one that either lady would forget for a very long time. Needless to say, I never set foot in that chemist again.

I witnessed Paddy and Elaine’s relationship right from the very beginning. I had only been with Lightning a little while and was still very quiet in the presence of the lads, between absorbing the conversations (all so new to me at that stage), being nervous around the lads and wallowing in my own heartache, most of my time for the first month or so after losing Saoirse being spent hoping and praying, futilely, to win her back. This particular day at lunchtime there were about seven of us in the canteen at our own various stages of arriving with food, eating food, drinking tea, smoking (legal and illegal substances), reading newspapers and, of course, taking the piss out of each other.

I, personally, was just polishing off a greasy but tasty portion of fish and chips when the conversation turned to the girls in the office. It was, not surprisingly, Mick who initiated it.

“Jaysus lads,” He executed a perfect pause to get everybody’s attention while simultaneously finishing his mouthful of burger and chips. “I’d ‘ve eaten those fuckin’ chips ou’ of Marie’s dirtiest pair of knickers and fuckin’ loved them!”

A general snigger rewarded the crudeness of the image in
volved. Marie was not the nicest looking member of office staff but she was the most attention grabbing, or, put more crudely, the tartiest.

“You’d be fuckin’ lucky to get a sniff of Geraldine’s knickers, let alone Marie’s!” the Gizzard pointed out, who got a louder and more amused response since Geraldine the office manger was not at all tolerant or understanding of the behaviour of these animals, as she called them. She was also quite obese. Geraldine was a favourite target for the lads.

“Don’t mention that fuckin’ elephant to me!” retorted Mick, almost defensively.

“How Dare you!” roared Naoise at the top of his voice, jumping to his feet dramatically pointing an angry shaking finger at Mick.

Sitting beside Mick, I had a full view past the finger up his arm at the wildly staring eyes, red face, and grimace of demonic anger – even with the lump of mayonnaise that was in the process of escaping towards the chin softening the aggression, he looked like a man who was going to attack.

“That lady is not an elephant!” he bellowed, with his eyes burning towards Mick in a rage I had never before witnessed. “She is two elephants, one with its head up the other one’s arse!”

It was more the breaking of tension than the comedy of the statement, but the canteen erupted in a peal of raucous laughter. That was the day that I found out about Naoise being a stage trained actor.

“You scared the shite ou’ of me, you little bollix. I’ve a good mind to give you a fuckin’ slap for that!”

I knew, as did everyone in the room, that there was not the least bit of danger of Mick lifting a finger against Naoise, but the onus was on Naoise now.

He played to the audience beautifully, “What do we say if he can’t take a joke?” He spun on one foot as he delivered this line, arms stretched outwards to his audience, welcoming them to join him in support, bringing his arms together at the front,
palms upwards and raising them to carry everybody with him in the chorus.

“Fuck him!” I roared as loudly as the rest.

“Fuckin’ eejits,” was the best mumble Mick would come up with, but I could see the shadow of a grin on his otherwise scowling face.

“I’ll tell you one thing though,” The Gizzard gave a shifty look towards the base room door, as if concerned about being overheard. “I’d love a ride off that Elaine one. What a little honey!”

I had spoken to Paddy before on several occasions and was at the stage where we nodded to each other in passing but I had never had a proper conversation with him. Actually, I had never really taken much notice of him, mostly because of him being almost as quiet as me – keeping himself to himself unless talking about bikes (he was an excellent motorbike mechanic and, like most of them, generously dispensed theories, knowledge and possible solutions to problems to anybody who was in need of his help). I noticed him this lunchtime.

“What the fuck would a girl like Elaine want with a dirty, ugly, scruffy waster like you? Ye gobshite ye!” This was more of an outburst than I would have expected from Paddy and, judging by the temporary silence left in its wake, nobody else expected it either. It didn’t take a genius to work out that Paddy had his own eyes on Elaine.

Not surprising either; she was an attractive, bright and bubbly 21 year-old who had a smile for everybody and a naturally cheery disposition. I had considered her as a possible replacement for Saoirse myself, but I was still far too cut up over losing her to pursue anybody else at this stage.

Upon witnessing Paddy’s reaction here, I made a mental note that she was no longer an option. Paddy was obviously mad into her and would treat her a lot better than me – who would have been just using her as the first step of a long journey to get over somebody else. She deserved better than that. I hadn’t even considered sticking up for Elaine but Paddy hadn’t hesitated. He had just jumped up and barged in without thinking of the
consequences. He had shown everybody that he cared about the girl. He had shown weakness, and he had done it in an aggressive, antagonistic way. That was a mistake.

It was, not surprisingly, the Gizzard who broke the momentary silence – being the object of the insult and all. “Wooohooo! Talk abou’ touchin’ a fuckin’ nerve! Guess who wants to do the horizontal mumba with our Elaine, that’s if the horny little fucker hasn’t already been there! Eh?”

Instead of having his voice lowered this time, the Gizzard was bellowing at the top of his voice. He didn’t care who heard this; Paddy was the embarrassed one here. As he delivered his rhetoric, he had spun half circle, crouching over in a predatory manner and making brief eye contact with all in his path to rally support for his cause.

He knew he had ammunition here and he intended to use it, as he anticipated others in the company would also. He was right.

“No I fuckin’ haven’t!” Paddy hissed through clenched teeth as quietly as he could while maintaining his angry tone. It was his turn to dart a nervous flicker of a look at the base room door in the fear of being overheard. “It’s just that she’s too good for the likes-”

“You fuckin’ well want to, though!” Joe interrupted loudly to a chorus of “wehou’s” and “Yup ye boy ye’s”.

Paddy turned now to face Joe, looking like a gazelle trapped between two cheetahs.

“That’s just ‘cos he heard she takes it up the arse!” Mick’s crudeness, as usual, got a big laugh.

“She fuckin’ didn’t for me!” Gerry’s vulgar innuendo kept the laughter going.

My heart went out to Paddy. I was only beginning to get used to the insensitivity of the group when the slagging got going and to realise that it was just the unique sense of humour developed by these people whose occupation could kill them any day, but I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the victim.

“Sure, half of them don’t even take it up the front for you, needledick!” Joe too seemed to feel sorry for Paddy, taking it
on himself to divert Gerry’s comment right back at him, giving Paddy a slight breather.

The Gizzard was having none of it. “Do yis think Elaine would take it up the front for Paddy?”

Paddy needed help. I hadn’t intended in sticking up for Paddy but the words came from somewhere.

“She sure as fuck wouldn’t take it off you, big nose!”

The Gizzard’s eyes widened in spoof amazement as he slowly turned to face me. “Jaysus! It speaks, and such a posh accent too! And it probably thinks it can drive that fuckin’ highly polished ‘please don’t get any dirt on me bike, lads’ CB it’s on as well!”

The insults didn’t bother me at all. In fact, it was a buzz to be in the centre of the lackery instead of just observing with the odd laugh from the sidelines. I was actually tingling slightly and feeling a bit giddy as I took a deep breath. I don’t know how the ideas and words of my answer formed so quickly, but they were on the tip of my tongue in no time.

I shot him a grin before speaking, as if to soften the blow of what was coming.

“Yes, Gizzard, I do clean my bike; and myself! And as for my driving, well, it’s because of my driving that the only part of my shiny bike that you can see is the fuckin’ back of it. So do yourself a favour and don’t criticise me until the day that you manage to drag that piece of shit you drive past me.” I made sure to smile after letting rip with the insults just in case I had upset him.

He wasn’t the least bit upset though, and even opted for the funniest line he could think of instead of lashing more insults at me. “I liked you fuckin’ more when you said nuttin’, posh kid.”

I added a chuckle to my smile. I felt as though I had been accepted into an exclusive club, a club that I very much wanted to be a part of.

“All right yez slow cunts, who’s ready to go? I have a nice little northside run lined up. Gerry, are you finished lunch? Jesus Christ! The fuckin’ smell of hash in here! Some one’s goin’ to
get fired for smokin’ that shit in here. Joe, I’m lookin’ at you!”

Aidan’s head in the hatch put me in mind of an animated plasticine model monster from the Sinbad films, some sort of grotesque being that sprang from its lair spewing malice, seeking an unsuspecting victim to attack.

“I’m in the middle of me fuckin’ lunch, ye bollix ye.” Joe was brandishing a sandwich with a bite out of it in one hand and a mug of tea in the other to substantiate his protest of innocence. Safely out of sight of the monster, floating on top of the cup of tea, was the butt of the joint that Gerry had passed to him just after he took the aforementioned bite out of his sandwich.

“So get your fuckin’ facts right before you start makin’ threats.”

“He’s just bullin’ cos’ he’s dyin’ for a smoke himself.” Gerry’s show of solidarity no doubt more than a little fuelled by the guilt of a co-conspirator.

“Yez can go outside from now on to smoke that shit, I’m tellin’ yez! Now, Gerry are you fuckin’ ready to go or wha’?”

The monster would have to go back to its lair empty handed, having been outsmarted and outnumbered by the intended victims. As we all jeered at Aidan’s retreat through the hatch, I caught Paddy’s eye and we exchanged smiles. That lunchtime was the beginning of a very close friendship. It was also the end of me being quiet during lunch.

The next morning I came into the base at about eleven to pick one up for Shankill that had been left in by a courier heading north. He had picked it up Westside along with his run going north to drop in for someone going south, who happened to be me. Paddy was in the base alone, with two non-urgent jobs going west on him, drinking a cup of tea. I asked Aidan if I could give it five before heading south and took his failure to respond as an affirmation. If it hadn’t been Okay, I would have been screamed at. I made myself a cup of tea.

“Fuckin’ shite today, isn’t it!” Paddy started the conversation with a pretty standard complaint about how the work was go
ing for him.

“Yeah, fuckin’ impossible to make a few quid,” I replied. A typical response, even though I was doing very well for this time of the morning – for a rookie.

“Ah, sure, what’s a poor boy to do?” Paddy kept us in the usual sway of conversation, but I got the feeling that he was trying to talk to me. There was no way he was going to thank me for chipping in for him the previous lunchtime – that just wasn’t done. It was only a slagging and not to be treated as serious enough to mention again.

I decided to give him some help.

“I think there’s a knocking in my engine, Paddy. Have you any idea what it could be?” I lied, knowing he could talk more freely about bikes than anything else.

“It is in the head or the big-end?”

The only part of a bike I had ever heard anybody talking of knocking noises was the head (the barrel and piston part of the engine).