Ride On

by Stephen J. Martin

  ‘Okay, I’ll spell it out. I know you’re playing a big gig and all tonight, and I don’t want to distract you, but I’m just telling you now not to fucking annoy me this evening or I swear to God I’ll kick your bollocks into your throat.’

  ‘What? You rang me to tell me that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You went to the trouble of ringing me to tell me you’re going to kick me in the bollocks if I annoy you tonight in front of some bird I haven’t even met.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Norman, I was sitting here quite happily having a cup of tea and a bit of toast. Do you think I need this fucking abuse when I pick up the phone? I don’t know who I’ll be annoying today. I haven’t given it any thought yet.’

  ‘Well, I’m just saying to you that it better not be me. And you’re to be a gentleman around Trish too, or that’ll be another kick in the bollocks.’

  ‘Fuck sake. Okay. Fine. I’ll be nice to your bird. Can I go now?’

  ‘Yeah. Seeya later.’

  ‘Fuck sake …’

  *

  ‘Was the limo really necessary?’ said Jimmy. He was looking around the inside of the car, feeling the leather of the seats and pulling at all the drawers and gadgets.

  ‘Of course!’ said Aesop. ‘And listen, you’re to be on your best rockstar behaviour when we get there, right? The big swagger up to the front door in your leather jacket, the shades, and then I want to see some shapes when we get inside.’

  ‘What shapes for fuck sake?’

  ‘Just pretend you’re on the stage.’

  ‘But I’m not on a stage, Aesop. I’m at a fifteen-year-old girl’s birthday party.’

  ‘It’s a stage tonight, man. No offence, but Daytime Jimmy is a bit of a boring fucker sometimes. We need Rockstar Jimmy to put in an appearance this evening.’

  ‘I’m not boring.’

  ‘Are you not?’

  Aesop did a Jimmy impersonation.

  ‘Ooh, look at me, I’m Jimmy the artist … I’m so confused … life is heavy and sad … I can’t say two words to a woman without falling arse-about-tit in love with her … hang on till I find a dark corner so I can write a nice song about rabbits … sad ones … and candy floss … and being so into some tart, that I don’t know who I fucking am any more … oh, what does it all mean …’

  ‘Aesop …’

  ‘ … I wish I was in Radiohead …’

  ‘Get fucked. I’m not like that.’

  ‘Ah, you are a bit, but, aren’t you?’

  ‘No. Jesus, just because your life revolves around your cock, it doesn’t mean other people don’t have things going on in their head.’

  ‘Whatever, Jimmy. I’m just saying that when we go in there tonight you’re to be all cool and chilled, right?’

  ‘You keep fucking telling me! Will you fuck off?’

  ‘Okay, okay. Look, this is Sandymount now. We’re nearly there. Where’s your shades?’

  ‘Jesus fu … they’re in me pocket.’

  ‘Grand, grand. Just checking.’

  Five minutes later they pulled up outside Mena’s place. Aesop had called her Dad and he was already standing outside the front door waving at them as the car stopped.

  ‘Right Jimmy, now …’

  ‘I know, I know. Come on. We’ve only got half an hour and then we’ve to get to the gig.’

  ‘Help me with this, will you?’

  ‘What’s in it?’

  ‘Ah, t-shirts, posters, a few bits and pieces. For the young ones at the party.’

  ‘Here, give me one of the bags.’

  Mr Flanigan was all smiles for them at the porch. He shook their hands and welcomed them inside. Jimmy looked back at the car from the hall. There was already a bunch of neighbours starting to gawk.

  ‘Tommy Flanigan,’ said Mena’s Dad. ‘You’re very good for coming.’

  ‘Not at all Tommy. I’m Aesop, and this is Jimmy. We’re chuffed we could make it. Is she inside?’

  ‘She’s on the couch in the living room. All her mates are in there with her. She can’t get about, so the party is kind of arranged around her.’

  ‘Does she know we’re coming?’

  ‘No. And I didn’t tell Liam or Conor either or they’d tell her.’

  ‘Grand so. How’s Liam?’

  Tommy sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

  ‘He’s not great Aesop, to be honest. He was always a bit of a handful, God knows, but himself and Mena are … y’know, when they were growing up and all, they were very close. Listen, he thinks the world of you too, same as herself. You wouldn’t … you don’t think you might just have a little word with him? Just, the two of you. A bit of attention. He’d love that from you, so he would. He’s nearly a bigger fan than she is, sure.’

  ‘No problem, Tommy,’ said Aesop. ‘I’ll have a laugh with him.’

  ‘Thanks. Look they’re just in here.’

  Tommy nodded at a door just off the hall.

  ‘I’ll go in first and say we have a surprise for her. Wait here a sec.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Tommy went inside and the lads could hear him hushing everyone.

  ‘All right?’ said Aesop to Jimmy.

  ‘I’m grand. And listen man … this is a good thing you’re after doing. Fair play to you. I know you’ve been bloody annoying me all day about it but, y’know, at the same time …’

  ‘Shades Jimmy. Where’s the shades?’

  ‘Oh for fuck sake … you’d have a saint wanting to kick the arse off you, you know that?’ said Jimmy, fishing them out of his pocket and putting them on. ‘Okay? Is that all right?’

  ‘Lovely. You’re a ride.

  ‘Did Sparky want to come? I mean, he’s kind of in the band at the moment.’

  ‘Nah. Children give him heartburn in the arse he says. But he wants the limo on the way back from the gig. I think he’s bringing his old dear for a spin around Dublin on the way home. Is that all right? We’ll have to get taxis home like real people.’

  ‘I am a real person, Aesop.’

  ‘Are you?’ said Aesop, grinning. ‘Do real people wear shades indoors? Look at the state of you.’

  ‘This was your fucking …’

  ‘Lads?’ said Tommy, pulling the door open again.

  Aesop winked at Jimmy and strolled in first. Jimmy took a breath and followed.

  There was about one second of total, stunned silence in the Flanigan living room and then the eardrums in Jimmy’s head nearly exploded with the screams of two dozen teenage girls.

  *

  ‘Okay Mam, I’m off now,’ said Norman.

  ‘Have a good night love.’

  ‘I’ll be late. Or I might even stay in Aesop’s in town if it’s very late.’

  ‘Okay. Well, I’ll see you in the morning then.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  Norman got the bus into town and stood next to Molly on Grafton Street, pulling his collar tight around him and sticking his hands in his pockets. There was a guy in a tracksuit standing just next to him with a huge basket of individually-wrapped red roses. He was shifting from foot to foot in the cold and looking around hopefully. Norman was thinking about it. After all, himself and Trish had pretty much met because of roses. It’d be cool. Or would it be fucking corny and crap? Norman wasn’t brilliant at this type of thing. Still, he hadn’t fucked anything up yet. He turned around.

  ‘Are you selling the roses?’

  The guy looked down at his basket and shook his head.

  ‘Nah. I just thought I’d come out tonight and stand around in the cold like a cunt.’

  Norman blinked at him.

  ‘Christ. I’d say you don’t sell many, do you, charming fucker that you are?’

  ‘Not in this weather. Everyone’s meeting their women in pubs, the bastards.’

  ‘I’ll have one. How much?’

  ‘Fiver.’

  ‘A fiver? Are you mad?’

  ‘You’re going to start hagglin
g, are ye? And the fingers fuckin’ frozen off me?’

  ‘Jesus, okay. Well just give me one so, please.’

  ‘Here you go.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘No problem.’

  Norman took the rose and looked at it. It was a bit shite-looking. Still, it wasn’t exactly the season. He wondered where they got them. He folded his arms against the cold, tucking the flower into the crook of his elbow, and waited. It was five past eight. No sign of her yet. Another two minutes. Then he turned around again, frowning. The roses guy looked up.

  ‘What?’ he said.

  ‘Are you going to just stand there?’ said Norman.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Are you going to just stand there? Right next to me with a big basket of roses? She’ll know where I got this one.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘She’ll be along in a minute. What kind of a prick will I look like? Can you not go and stand somewhere else?’

  ‘Where would you like me to go for fuck sake?’

  ‘I don’t know. Around the other side of the statue or something?’

  ‘A fiver.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Gimme a fiver and I’ll go away.’

  ‘You can fuck off with yourself!’

  ‘Then I’m staying put. You make a good windbreaker, big fucker like you.’

  ‘I’m asking you now as a favour.’

  ‘Sorry pal. This is where the business is.’

  ‘There’s no business you said a minute ago.’

  ‘Things have picked up a bit.’

  ‘Jesus, you’re some bollocks. Here’s your bloody fiver. Give me another rose.’

  ‘What? What are you going to do with two of them?’

  ‘I’ll think of something. Now give me the rose and go off away around the other side of the statue. Oh Jesus. Here she is. Quick …’

  ‘Yer one in the boots? Jaysis, that’s a bit of all right, that is. What’s her name?’

  ‘You’re looking for a basket up the hole now, is it?’

  Norman was finally standing alone next to Molly as Trish walked up.

  ‘Hi. Sorry I’m late. Bloody buses.’

  ‘That’s okay. Here.’

  ‘Oh, God, thanks! They’re lovely. You shouldn’t have. Two?’

  ‘Eh, yeah. In case you lose one.’

  Nice one. Fuckin’ eejit.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ he said. ‘We’ve a good while before the gig. Or maybe a pint? Up to you …’

  ‘Actually, a pint would be good. I’m not that hungry. I never am when I work nights.’

  ‘McDaids?’

  ‘Yeah, great.’

  There was a good Friday night crowd in the pub. Norman found one stool at the window just inside the door and helped Trish off with her coat. He just about managed not to bless himself when he saw what was hidden under it. This outfit she had on her now was a different story altogether from the nurse’s uniform or the last time they were out. The coat slipped off her shoulders and into his faintly quivering hands to properly reveal the kind of woman that Norman had been fantasising about since he was twelve. Tall, strong, curvy. Not like the little tarts on the telly with nothing to them.

  ‘You look very … eh … you look very pretty tonight,’ he said, folding her coat. He was all red.

  ‘Thanks,’ she smiled. ‘Without the coat, like?’

  ‘Oh Jesus, no. That’s not what I meant. You looked lovely outside too. I just meant …’

  She laughed.

  ‘Only joking Norman. Hey, you look lovely too.’ She looked into his face. ‘You’re pretty cute when you’re flustered, do you know that?’

  He shook his head, looking at the floor, and muttered something.

  ‘What’s that?’ she said, leaning in.

  ‘I said I must look like fucking Bambi so, at the moment.’

  She kissed him on the cheek with a grin, one hand on his side as she stretched up to him. She wasn’t at all shy about personal space, Trish. Probably came from being a nurse. The things they saw and did all day, there was hardly much room for being sensitive about shite like that.

  ‘That’s for the roses,’ she said. ‘And hey, let me get you a pint too.’

  ‘No, no. I’ll get the drinks. What are you having?’

  She got up on her toes again to try and see the taps at the bar. Her big breasts bounced slightly under her blouse with the sudden movement and he gawked at her without meaning to, a funny noise coming out of his throat on its own.

  ‘Do they have Murphys here?’ she said, turning back to him.

  Murphys? His bad leg nearly gave way on him.

  *

  Norman relaxed over the next hour. She was so natural and easy that he forgot his usual worries about fucking everything up every time he opened his gob. By the time he was holding out her coat for again, he was feeling the glow from three pints and getting a bit excited about seeing the lads on the stage. It turned out that she’d seen The Grove before, years ago, in the Baggot, when she’d just moved to Dublin.

  ‘I remember the drummer. He was chatting up all the girls at the bar afterwards. Mind you, that’s a long time ago. It mightn’t even be the same guy they have now.’

  Norman said nothing.

  They headed around to Thomas Street and saw the queue tail around the corner.

  ‘Hope it’s moving,’ said Trish. ‘It’s a bit cold to be standing around.’

  Norman took a deep breath and her hand in his, closing his eyes for a second and praying that Jimmy had remembered to say something to the doorman.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’ll be grand.’

  They walked up the top of the queue, Norman trying to be nonchalant but convinced that he had a head on him like a tomato.

  ‘Yes sir?’

  Posh accent. Not like they used to be, bouncers.

  ‘Norman Kelly,’ said Norman, swallowing. ‘I think … eh …’

  ‘Ah yes, Mr. Kelly. Please, would you like to follow me?’

  ‘Eh … okay … thanks.’

  The guy led them into the venue and through a couple of doors until they found themselves in what Norman took to be some kind of member’s lounge. Well-dressed people were mingling, the tinkle of ice and hum of poser bullshit hanging in the air. He could feel Trish staring at him, but he didn’t want to say anything until he knew what was going on.

  ‘The VIP room, Mr. Kelly. Please help yourself to refreshments. Will I tell the band that you’ve arrived?’

  ‘Ah … eh … no. No. Leave them be. I’ll talk to them later, sure.’

  ‘Very good, sir.’ He shook Norman’s hand. ‘On behalf of the management here at Vicar Street, I hope you have a great evening.’ Then he turned to Trish and gave a small bow. ‘Miss.’

  And then he was gone.

  Norman finally looked down at Trish, with a small embarrassed smile. She was looking at him like someone had just groped her arse.

  ‘What the fuck was that?’ she said, her Kerry accent on full now and her eyes huge. ‘“Will I tell the band you’ve arrived?” Who are you? Jesus, is the gardening just a part-time thing with you or what’s the story? Should I be ringing the girls?’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Norman. ‘I forgot to tell you. I’m just mates with the band.’

  ‘Jesus, yer man looked like he’d been waiting all night for you to show up.’

  ‘Well … eh … I’ve known the lads for a good while, like …’

  ‘Look at this place! Oh, is that … look, Norman, there’s our taxi man from last week.’

  He was standing with a girl at the bar, waving over and giving Norman the thumbs up.

  ‘Yeah. Jimmy said it was okay if I brought a few people and then I remembered that I’d made that fella a promise, so I called him earlier. Told him to mention my name at the door.’

  ‘Lucky him. He probably wasn’t expecting the VIP treatment.’

  ‘Yeah. Well Jesus, neither was I, to be honest.’

/>   The taxi man was making his way over. Norman had never seen a grin that big before.

  ‘The mot thinks I’m bleedin’ ice cream,’ said the guy, shaking Norman’s hand. ‘You could sprinkle nuts on me. If you’re ever stuck for a taxi, Norman, you give me a bell, right? Day or night. No problem.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Howarya again,’ he said to Trish.

  ‘Hi.’

  He nodded back to Norman.

  ‘Has this fella got the clamps on you yet?’

  ‘Maybe I’m the one with the clamps,’ said Trish, smiling.

  ‘Jaysis, I don’t think you need them. But he’s a good bloke. Fair play to him for giving me a bell today. A lot of blokes wouldn’t bother their arse. You could do a lot worse for yourself.’

  ‘I think you might be right.’

  She looked up at Norman and grinned. Norman just fidgeted and looked away.

  *

  Norman and Trish stayed in Aesop’s that night. If Aesop came home at all later they didn’t hear him. Norman turned the key and they went straight up the stairs to the spare bedroom. It was nearly as big as the main one and had just been fitted with a king-sized bed. Aesop’s sister had spent the previous Wednesday buying all the trimmings and it looked brilliant.

  Trish turned on the light and then looked around at Norman.

  ‘Aren’t you full of surprises?’

  He gave a small shrug.

  ‘Sure, it was me that painted it for the bollocks.’

  ‘Ah, Aesop’s great. They both are. God, I can’t believe you’ve all been mates since you were kids.’

  Norman nodded and tried to smile. He was a little bit down. After the gig, backstage, Trish and Aesop had gotten on like a house on fire. Norman was trying to be sociable and talking to whoever was around, but he kept hearing her laugh and he’d look over to see Aesop telling her something, all arms and mad expressions the way he was when he was on the pull. The two of them had found a small sofa and she’d probably spent an hour at least being charmed by the fucker and howling her head off with him. Norman knew it was pointless being jealous over someone like Aesop. When it came to women, he couldn’t compete with that. It fucking hurt him a bit though. He really liked Trish and the idea that she’d fall for Aesop … and to think that he’d been the one that actually told him to be fucking nice to her!