The Thing About December (23 page)

People can be an awful dose. If you only had to look at them on television, everything would be grand. When they wanted to buy your father’s land and say things about you in newspapers and make little of you below in the village and be your friend and be your nearly girlfriend and shoot lads over what they done to you or really over what was done to them and look out of their mouths at you for a reaction or an answer or a laugh or a digout or an action of which you’re not capable in a million years, they’d wear you out. They’d go through you for a shortcut. They’d wreck your head, the townie lads would say. Isn’t it a noble thing all the same, loneliness? There’s dignity in it, at least. You can’t make a show of yourself when you’re on your own. You can’t sound stupid opposite nobody. People are better inside in your head. When you’re longing for them, they’re perfect.

THAT AULD CROSSNESS
came back around the start of December. Siobhán said to Johnsey that Mumbly Dave was only a user. Mumbly Dave said Siobhán was only teasing him. Siobhán said Mumbly Dave was a right weirdo. Imagine, a man in his thirties hanging around with young fellas, driving around in his Johnny-go-fast car, with everyone laughing at him! Mumbly Dave said you’d be as well off give that wan the road, I’m only saying it for your own good, she’s waiting until you haven’t a drop of blood left in your brain because it’s all holding up your horn and you’ll ask her to marry you and she’ll bleed you dry. Siobhán said she couldn’t believe that thing with Mumbly Dave and the barn and he’d make some balls of that job and leave you in the shit, don’t even dream of it, no one would want to live in
a crappy apartment in a smelly old cowshed. Mumbly Dave said she only wants you selling everything up so she can give the rest of her days going out foreign and buying expensive shite inside in Brown Thomas like all them wans that thinks they’re bigshots. Siobhán said Mumbly Dave was probably a closet gay. Mumbly Dave said Siobhán was a sneaky little bitch. Then he got kind of sorry and said Yerra lookit, women don’t be in their right mind half the time, with their periods and what have you.

He wasn’t even sure when they had started to read each other so violently behind each other’s backs. It sort of built up over a couple of weeks: a little dig laughed off was brought up when the digger was gone; a smart comment ignored at the time was repeated indignantly when the commenter was in the toilet. They started to change the air when they shared a room. They made it harder to breathe: you’d be aware of your lungs filling and emptying and you’d try not to make noises breathing because that drove Siobhán mad and she’d want to know why you sounded like a fucking respirator and Mumbly Dave would say Leave the man breathe any way he wants, and she’d say Mind your own business, and he’d say it
was
his business if she was tormenting his friend and she’d say Oh really? And he’d say Yes really. And she’d take a pull of her fag and blow the smoke hard in his direction and he’d tell her she was a classy bird all right and she’d say Are you still here, David? Have you not got a hot date? And she’d make that snorting noise at the back of her nose like she thought he was no more going on a date that night than the man in the moon and he’d say I have actually, and she’d say You’d better run along so, and he’d say I’ll see you, Johnsey, and Johnsey would only say See you, and he never even got up off of his hole to walk as far as the yard with him any more, only sat looking at Siobhán and smelling her and hating himself. Mumbly Dave said he was
pussy-whipped
. What the hell did that mean? It was some kind of
a weakness, like some kind of a sex thing that only a fool would get involved in.

If he couldn’t ask Mumbly Dave what he should buy Siobhán for Christmas, who could he ask? He knew if he went down to the bakery the Unthanks would give a whole hour at least talking about it with him. Himself would suggest something silly like a pound of sausages and Herself would tell him don’t be daft and she’d laugh and he’d laugh and nudge Johnsey when she wasn’t looking and they’d warm him with smiles and fill him with fresh bread and buns and tea. But he’d be afraid then they’d want to tell him they were sorry they hadn’t told him about the consortium and he’d say it was grand, what about it, weren’t they perfectly entitled? And they’d say about how they didn’t know what way it would work out and it was no treachery and Jackie knew all about it. And what if he started crying like an eejit? It’d be out of sadness over their sadness and the mention of Daddy, but it’d only make everything worse, and Herself would start crying again and she’d stand at the sink, knotting a tea towel in her soft old hands, saying
everyone
invested with them, Johnsey,
everyone
thought it was a great idea,
everyone
 …

SIOBHÁN SAID
they were going to go out properly at Christmas. She hadn’t had a proper night out since her going-away do with the fatarses from the hospital. And that was crap, because only three of them came and they were as dry as shites. They talked about
babies
all night! Who wants to spend a whole night out talking about
babies
? God, like. Two fellas come over at one stage and they were
really
funny, and one of them, God he was
gas
, was messing around and he just rubbed his hand sort of by accident really off one of their arses and she screeched like a banshee and the bouncer came over and told the fellas to get out
and like, so what if he
did
feel her arse, he was a
fella
, that’s what they
do
, he wasn’t trying to
rape
the silly bitch and she should have been grateful, anyway, that
anyone
wanted to put their hand on her scabby old arse, never mind a ride of a fella. God, like.

Johnsey pictured himself grabbing that ride of a fella’s hand and twisting it around until his wrist snapped like a dry twig and he went off bawling like a child with a kicked arse for himself and his hand on backwards and he wouldn’t be so funny then, he wouldn’t be the big gas man then, over talking smart to girls and taking liberties and thinking he was God’s gift. Johnsey would put manners on him.

No he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t say a word to him. If he was ever in a pub or a disco or one of them places with Siobhán and some smartyhole came over all auld chat and was trying to get off with her, what would he do? Probably he’d stand up like an eejit and get redder and redder until someone asked him was he okay and the smartyhole would look at him and smirk and Siobhán would roll her eyes in crossness and the smartyhole fella would smirk back at her and she’d get thick with him for leaving her down opposite people and looking like a lunatic and what the hell was
wrong
with him, anyway, she was only
talking
for God’s sake. Maybe if Mumbly Dave was there as well with his teacher wan it’d be okay because Mumbly Dave would be able to say something smart to your man and make little of him and sure in all fairness if they were all out together they’d be like proper people on a night out and no one would be over schmoozing with Siobhán and being gas and making her laugh the way he wasn’t able to.

Siobhán wanted to go in to this restaurant in the city. They have a mural downstairs of Venice, and you can sit in this corner, surrounded by the mural, and it’s nearly like
being
in Venice! And they do the
nicest
carbonara you ever tasted. What the hell
was carbonara? How would he order something that was wrote down in a foreign language? Probably he’d ask for something and he’d think he was saying it right but the waiter wouldn’t be able to make out what he was saying and he’d say Pardon me, sir, and Johnsey would have to say it again, and your man still wouldn’t hear him and he’d be kind of smiling at him and he’d lean his Italian ear right in to Johnsey’s mouth and he’d accidentally roar it out into his ear and your man would jump back and look frightened of him and people at other tables would stare over and your man would say That’s not a main course, sir, it’s a type of ice cream, and he’d snigger and Siobhán would laugh and people at other tables would laugh as well and shake their heads, and he’d wish he’d done away with his stupid self while he’d had the impetus that time.

THE BIG FIGHT
happened on the second-last Friday before Christmas. Siobhán told him to text Mumbly Dave and ask him to know would he bring the teacher wan up to the house so they could have a look at her. She said she was in no rush home; she could even stay over if they had a drink. It was Friday night, for God’s sake. They were staring Christmas in the face! She couldn’t stay in one of those creepy rooms on her own, though; she’d have to sleep in with him. Aw, she said, am I after embarrassing you love? Don’t worry, I won’t jump on you! I hope you have fresh sheets on your bed! He hadn’t changed them in weeks and weeks. Christ. Balls. Then she said she was going to run down to the off-licence and would she bring back a Chinese and he said Grand, and she said What will you have, and he said Beef curry and chips, and she said
Typical man
and laughed but it was a nice laugh and thank Christ, now he’d be able to change the sheets and tighten up the room above and hide Dwyer’s magazine.

She was going to stay the night. In his bed. Oh, Lord. Would she be in her knickers or what? He horsed a shovel of coal and two logs into the fire. Imagine if the back boiler broke. She’d want about five blankets. Or she mightn’t stay at all in the cold. Oh, Mother of Christ. An actual girl, in his bed.

Will u call up 2 nite
he sent Mumbly Dave.

Im goin to town u sir
Mumbly Dave sent back straight away.

Bring ur 1 back here n stay over
. He had that idea himself. How’s it he’d never thought before of asking Mumbly Dave did he want to stay? Himself and the teacher wan could easily sleep in the big double bed in the spare room. It had hardly been used since the Yanks stayed that time. He’d put fresh sheets on that bed too. He was starting to feel a bit excited. He was having a few people around. He was throwing a party. He was entertaining. He was in his hole. He was doing what he was told.

OK sound
said Mumbly Dave. Still and all, though, it was going to be great craic. Mumbly Dave and Siobhán would have to call a halt to that auld sniping with your wan around. Mumbly Dave would be as high as a kite, trying to make
two
women laugh. All Johnsey’d have to do would be laugh. He could worry about the sleeping part after. There was no point thinking about it. That kind of thing all comes natural, anyway. That’s what Daddy said one time abroad in the yard when Mother told him he had to have a talk with the boy about the facts of life. He’d heard Mother telling him in the back kitchen: You have to, Jackie. He can’t be going around like a gom, not knowing what does what. But Daddy didn’t want to, he said Yerra them teachers tells them all that stuff these days. Mother said They do in their arses, now tell him what’s what and be done with it. Daddy said how no one had had to feckin tell
him
. Signs on, Mother said. For a finish, Daddy turned around to him at the milking-parlour door and said Don’t worry about all that auld craic with women and sex and what
have you, that all comes natural. All right? Grand. Good man. Come on so till we get these cows milked.

SIOBHÁN ARRIVED
and backed her car right up to the front door. She had the world of drink inside in the boot. They ate their Chinese fine and quick and she drank a glass of wine with hers and he drank a can of Harp with his. Then he threw the dishes into the sink and started to tighten up a bit. Siobhán said he was some fusspot; it was only Mumbly Dave and some slapper that was coming, not the pope and the queen. But before she could finish, Mumbly Dave drove in to the yard and she skipped over to the window and looked out and said Aw for fuck’s sake, where
is
she? Either she’s a dwarf or he hasn’t brought her. Ah shit, anyway! We have to listen to Mumbly Dave for the night for nothing!

And he came in with a bag of drink and told them how Evelyn couldn’t come on account she had to take the kids on a school tour early in the morning and she had to have an early night and Siobhán said Really, Dave? Is that really true? About
Evelyn
? And the way he went red gave the game away. You wouldn’t get much past her. Why would you make up a girlfriend, Dave? You
weirdo
?

Johnsey didn’t think Mumbly Dave was a weirdo. So what if he tried to embellish himself a bit? Plenty did it. He’d imagined himself being more than he was and having more than he had every day of his life. Mumbly Dave’s face was getting redder and redder and Siobhán should have let it go and left him make a laugh of himself and he’d have had a funny way surely of explaining why he invented a woman for himself inside in town and it’d seem like a gas thing he’d done and nothing out of the ordinary at all, only a bit of fooling around. But she kept staring at him and shaking her head and saying he was an awful weirdo and Mumbly Dave for a finish got pure thick and said he’d done
it to have an excuse not to be knocking around up here while
she
was around the place, and Siobhán said Oh, so it’s
my
fault you’re a fucking freak? And Mumbly Dave said she was a poison bitch and a gold-digger and he was the one that was here all along helping Johnsey through all his trouble.

Siobhán said Really? What did you do to help? Besides slug cans of beer and talk bollocks to him about all the imaginary women you’ve had sex with?

And Mumbly Dave said I writ a letter to them newspapers.

And Siobhán, all sarcastic, said Wow! That was some letter I’d say! What did you say to them?

That they was only a shower of shitbags, all a them news-paper fellas, and they didn’t know notten about Johnsey Cunliffe and …

Dear Newspaper Fellas, You is only a shower of shitbags. Wow, Dave! I can’t believe you didn’t make the front page. It’s a wonder they haven’t been on to you to know would you be their new editor-in-chief.

I still done more than you, up here tormenting the poor boy with your tits inside in his face, making a pure fool out of him.