Billy stole a serious, daylight look at Jesus as they all trekked through the car park. The guy even walked like a film star. Loped.
Suddenly Billy began to feel uneasy. Beside such style and beauty, he himself was the only one who might seem like a dweeb.
At least the sun was shining. That was pretty good. To his surprise, Billy found he would have hated it if it had been raining.
He took another look at his guest. He hated to admit it, but so far Jesus wasn’t half-bad. Maybe even a bit cool. Maybe having him around might not be so awful. Maybe going to Barcelona might be all right after all . . .
Suddenly, he wanted Jesus to like Ireland. To like him.
‘I look forward to many conversations with you, Billy.’ As though he had heard Billy’s thoughts, Jesus turned to him.
‘Yeah,’ said Billy. And then, when he realised that that might sound rude, ‘I mean, of course, I’m looking forward to it too.’
Then he found he actually meant it.
He meant it even more when he opened the present Jesus gave him. A pair of Boss jeans. Billy’s Ma only got a poxy bottle of lavender water.
CHAPTER NINE
Amanda Smells a Rat
The Saturday of the August Bank Holiday had always been a day that Amanda had secretly liked. Starting early on the Friday afternoon, all their friends did things for the holiday. They fought the traffic to West Cork, for instance (and then, all weekend, dreaded the fight home on the Monday evening). But she and Hugo had long ago decided that they would use the time quietly at home.
Anyway, Hugo always had work to catch up on. He liked the thought that for one bloody day, at least, he wouldn’t be disturbed.
Knowing this, Amanda hesitated outside the closed door of Hugo’s study. The house was so quiet she could hear the soft clicking of Hugo’s keyboard. Then she set her lips in a firm line. This was an emergency. She opened the door and crept inside.
The curtains were pulled against the glare of the bright sunlight outside. Hugo’s neck was stretched like that of a goose as he peered at the screen in front of him.
Amanda waited.
Still the clicking continued. He hadn’t noticed she was there.
She cleared her throat. Then: ‘Sorry to disturb you, Pet. Could I have a quick word?’
Hugo stopped clicking and looked around. His face was as cross as a ferret’s. ‘What is it, Pet? Can’t you see I’m busy? One bloody day, that’s all I ask. One bloody day in the year.’
‘I know that, Pet.’ Amanda stood firm. ‘But this is important. It concerns William and his exchange partner.’
Amanda’s husband threw up his hands in the air. ‘One bloody day.’
He swivelled in his leather chair to face his wife. ‘So what is it that’s so important?’
Amanda took a deep breath. She had rehearsed what she was going to say. She sat down in a chair beside the desk and learned forward earnestly.
‘Now, you know me, Hugo,’ she began, ‘I’m not one to complain. But I’m just a teeny bit worried about this Spanish lad. I mean we were assured – I went to a lot of trouble, Hugo, you know I did – that he’d fit in. We were also told, if you remember, that he had very good English?’
Amanda shook her head sadly. ‘Well I’m afraid that’s not the case, Hugo. That’s not the case at all. I’m afraid the poor child can barely string one word after the other. “I am Jesus Martinez. I am from Spain. I colour my hair.”That seems to be about it. Young William is already saying there’s no way, no way, Hugo, that he’s going back to Barcelona with this lad. And you know what that’ll mean. We’ve already promised to go to that thingy in the Med with the Frasers. Where’ll we get a minder for three weeks at this short notice? And another thing – ’
Amanda hurried now because she could see her time was nearly up. ‘Now, you know, Hugo, that I’m not a snob. You know that, Hugo. But you also know what they’re like down at that tennis club. We did ask him to bring whites. For his own sake.’
She sat back. ‘Not a sign, I’m afraid. A few grotty t-shirts, that’s all. I know it’s not the child’s fault or anything. But, I mean, not to put a tooth in it, I think we’ve been sold a pup.’
Amanda’s husband stared at her. ‘So what do you want from me?’
Amanda stared back frankly. ‘Would it be OK with you, Pet, if I called the agency? Not that we’ll send him back or anything like that. Of course not. But I just think it’s not good enough. They’ll have to do something for us.’
Hugo shrugged. Then, ‘Can I go back to work now, please?’
Amanda smiled. ‘Thank you, Pet. That’s settled then, I’m glad you agree. Right. I won’t disturb you any longer.’
As soon as she closed the door, she heard the fury of clicks from inside.
In another part of the house, the dandelion-haired Jesus Martinez sat beside William at the console of William’s Playstation.
This Jesus was in heaven.
CHAPTER TEN
Jesus Scores
Saturday morning in the Finglas O’Connors was very different to Saturday morning in the southside O’Connors. Here all was go.
Billy’s Ma had put a tablecloth on the table and had brought a carton of Tropicana, the posh orange juice, instead of the Squeez they usually had. She had make-up on too and her hair was done up in a pair of combs.
Billy’s Da was reading the racing pages. He kept looking at Billy’s Ma in a very odd way, as if he didn’t know who this woman was. But then again, he did seem to like what he saw.
Doreen, who never put a foot to the floor before two o’clock any other Saturday, was up and dressed in her tightest jeans. She was weird too. ‘Let me help you that, Ma.’ And ‘Will I pour the tea now, Ma?’
Billy knew it was all because of Jesus.
Billy’s exchange partner sat quite relaxed at the table while the two women fussed around him. He was dressed in smart Levis and a navy cotton jumper which showed up the smoothness of his neck. The air in the kitchen smelled like lemons.
Then the last straw came for Billy. Doreen leaned over so far while pouring tea for Jesus, Billy thought she might fall over.
He also suspected she had put cotton wool in her bra.
‘Will I go and call Uncle Dick for breakfast?’ Billy asked loudly.
It was a nasty thing to do. But what the hell.
He had the satisfaction of seeing the two women turn pale. ‘Ah no,’ his Ma said, really quickly. ‘Sure it’s Saturday. Let the poor man sleep on a bit.’ His Ma then turned back to Jesus: ‘So what are you two lads going to get up to today?’
Jesus turned to Billy, a question mark written on his face.
Billy shrugged.
‘Have you any ideas what they could do, Doreen?’ Billy’s Ma turned to her daughter.
‘Please, no worry for me.’ Jesus dipped his dry toast into his tea as he smiled around at everyone. ‘I do not mind. I do with Billy what Billy does every Saturday, no?’
No one wanted to be the first to say that what Billy did every Saturday was to stay in bed.
It was decided between them all that Jesus and Billy would go into town. Billy was to take Jesus all around Temple Bar and show him the new Dublin that everyone was talking about. Jimmy slipped Billy a fiver so he could treat Jesus to a burger in Thunder Bar. He even said he’d give them a lift as far as the bus stop.
After they left, Granny Teresa went back into the granny flat, bringing a cup of strong black coffee in to Uncle Dick.
Janet and Doreen became a little thoughtful. Janet decided that it was about time she had a bit of colour put in her hair: ‘For the summer, like . . . ’
Doreen stared at her. Doreen told her mother that she thought she shouldn’t waste her money. That her hair was quite nice the way it was. She offered to put a few rollers in it for her.
She looked away. As for herself, she said, she might wander into town. She had a few shillings to spend. She might have a look at Thunder Bar. She’d heard a lot about i
t.
‘That’s great,’ Janet said.
Before either could say anything more, there was a knock on the front door. Janet sighed. ‘There’s a pound coin in my purse on the hall table,’ she said and turned away to the sink. They had a pools man who called to the door every Saturday morning.
Doreen sighed: ‘Why do I always have to go?’
She was back in less than a minute. And she had Sharon Byrne with her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jesus Stays Put
‘I knew it was too good to be true.’ Doreen removed the cotton-wool pads from her bra. The wires under the cups were killing her. She didn’t care that Sharon saw what she was doing. She didn’t care about anything.
All right, their Jesus was two years younger than her. So what? Had no one ever heard of Joan Collins?
‘What’s the other chap like?’ Doreen heard her mother’s question through a fog of temper. Who cared what he was like? No matter what he was like, he certainly couldn’t be like their Jesus. She stopped herself. The sad fact was that he was no longer their Jesus.
She told her mother and Sharon that she was going upstairs and left the kitchen.
Sharon watched Doreen go. As the sound of tramping feet on the stairs died away, she turned back to Janet.
‘What’s he like?’ she said.
‘He’s – he’s very nice actually,’ Janet replied. She made her voice sound strong. ‘He’s very nice. He has a great personality,’ she added hopefully. ‘He even dyed his hair the night before he came here. Little scamp. Isn’t that marvellous?’
‘That little fella with the pimples and the brassy hair?’ Janet was horrified.
Sharon bravely looked straight back at her. ‘I think you probably have the right one,’ she said. ‘But I think that the dyed hair shows that he’s really interesting, don’t you? He really stood out from the crowd at the airport yesterday, didn’t he?’
Then, as Janet continued to stare, Sharon rushed on. ‘If you like, I’ll help you pack Jesus’ things, so that when he gets back from town we’ll be all set.’
‘Hold on a minute,’ Janet frowned. ‘Where’s the other fella now?’
Sharon tried to keep her face bright. ‘Oh, he knows all about it,’ she said. ‘He’s really looking forward to coming to meet you all.’
The other Jesus knew about it all right but he was far from happy. His bag at his feet, he sat sadly in the room in which he had slept for just one night. He was waiting for the Mama to call him down to get in the car to go to the other family.
He kicked the bag. It had been too good to be true. Nothing ever worked out for him. Nothing.
When he had been offered the exchange scholarship, he had held his breath for a whole week in case someone would come and tell him it was all a mistake. Then, finally, when no one did, he dared to hope. He let himself believe that for once in his life, luck was with him.
He had been stupid to believe that. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Although the Mama had dressed up the story by telling him that the family he was really supposed to be with was lovely and that he would have a lot in common with them, Jesus knew the real story. He wasn’t good enough for this grand house, for these grand people.
He sighed, then decided he might as well behave as they expected him to behave. Why not?
His gaze fell on the remote control for the television. This would be exactly what they expected him to nick.
So he walked across to it, picked it up and put it in the big front pocket of his hooded anorak.
Billy and Jesus came out of Thunder Bar and into the noise and racket of the street outside where buses revved their engines and drills tore into the road.
Jesus linked Billy. ‘I think we are friends, yes?’
‘Of course.’ Billy felt uncomfortable. ‘Er – men don’t link each other in Ireland,’ he said, pulling his arm away.
Jesus was immediately sorry. ‘I do not know all this. You must teach me.’ He smiled again, a brilliant smile which set fires in his eyes.
Billy could not resist him. ‘Of course I will, Jesus,’ he said earnestly. ‘I’ll teach you everything.’
Jesus took Billy at his word and by the time they were getting off the bus at their stop, Billy was explaining the differences between the Premiership league and the league run by the Football Association of Ireland. He summed it up for Jesus in one sentence. ‘Basically,’ he said, ‘the F.A.I. is crap.’
Then he had to explain what ‘crap’ meant.
As they strolled home from the bus stop, Billy basked in the smiles and admiring glances Jesus got from people they passed. Billy was delighted with himself. How could he have been so stupid as to be worried about this exchange? It was working out perfectly. Jesus was probably the coolest guy Billy had ever met.
They were getting on so well that the shock when they got into the house was all the more.
The first thing they saw was the pile of Jesus’ luggage. Then they saw Sharon.
‘There’s been a bit of a mix-up, Jesus,’ said Sharon in that voice that Billy hated. ‘It’s just as well we found out quickly, before you got too settled here.’ She laughed, a tinkly, false laugh. ‘But not to worry, it’s all sorted now . . . ’
Fifteen minutes later, Sharon was no longer laughing. Jesus, seated at the kitchen table, smiling his gorgeous smile, would not be moved. ‘I like it here,’ he said politely for what to Sharon seemed like the twentieth time. ‘I like Billy. If necessary, I pay the other O’Connors so I can stay here with Billy.’
Doreen, who now wished she hadn’t removed the cotton wool from her bra, clapped her hands as though she were at a cabaret. Janet and Jimmy both beamed. Everyone was really chuffed that such a wonderful boy would choose their gaff over a rich gaff on the southside.
Sharon swallowed hard and wished she had Brigitte beside her to tell her what to do.
‘Leave it with me,’ she said.
Of course as soon as she said that they all knew they’d won.
‘Jesus is going nowhere,’ said Billy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
How Jesus Affects the
Finglas O’Connors
So Jesus stayed put with the Finglas O’Connors.
As for the other poor Jesus, he found himself packed off home to Barcelona. Amanda, naturally, had missed the remote control within seconds of entering his room.
Amanda planned to get Hugo to sue Irlanda Exchange. When he could find the time, of course. What was most urgent now was to find a minder for William for the three weeks she and Hugo were going to be away in the Med on that thingy with the Frasers.
The Finglas O’Connors cared not a fig about Amanda, or Hugo, or William. They planned to throw a big party for Jesus, to thank him for his faith in them.
The only fly in the ointment about this plan was Uncle Dick. They were a bit worried about how Jesus would feel about Uncle Dick when Uncle Dick got into his stride at the party. But then, on Jimmy’s advice, they decided to hell with it. Jesus had taken them all at face value so far, hadn’t he? He could take Uncle Dick’s party-self as well.
To celebrate, Jimmy put his hand in his pocket again and gave Billy another few bob. This time so that he and Jesus could go to Father Moran’s Friday Night Disco at the youth club.
The next few days were taken up with preparations for the party, which was to be held on the following Saturday night. Janet begged and borrowed glasses from all the neighbours. She baked buns and cakes and started hard-boiling eggs for sandwiches.
But she started doing something unusual as well. She had always been the first up in the household but now she took to coming into the kitchen a little later than all the others. Not simply coming in, but making a sort of an entrance. Yawning sleepily and stretching her arms above her head. And saying she’d had lovely dreams. And that she wished she could go back to sleep and have another one.
And instead of her nice, comfy, fluffy dressing-gown with the rabbit on the pocket, she had started
to wear the shiny one with tiger stripes that Doreen and Billy had bought her for Christmas. She’d stay in the dressing-gown all morning, only getting dressed around noon.
And Billy noticed that she was now doing everything slower. Walking slower, talking slower, even looking slower at people. She seemed to look a lot at Jesus.
Over those few days too, Billy noticed that his father, usually so easygoing, started to complain about little things. He’d glare at Janet. His tea was too strong. The collar on his shirt wasn’t ironed properly. What was wrong with this house? He couldn’t find two matching socks.
Everyone, of course, took it out on Billy as usual.
Billy was puzzled. The whole feeling of the house had changed. Instead of being happy-go-lucky and rubbing along together, everyone, bit by bit, seemed to get more and more edgy.
Doreen, in particular, became bad-tempered, snappy with her mother.
Janet was snappy with Jimmy.
Billy even heard GrannyTeresa snap at his mother when Janet asked Granny Teresa to help move the furniture around in the sitting room.
The furniture was fine the way it was, Granny Teresa had said with her nose in the air. She was having no more to do with any of this messing that was going on.
Billy was puzzled. What messing?
The only person who sailed through the days was Jesus. He didn’t seem to notice that people were tense. He was the perfect guest. Helping Janet with the washing up. Leaving his bedroom in apple-pie order every morning. Walking with Billy to the local shops to buy sliced pans for the sandwiches. Even insisting on buying flowers for Billy’s mother to thank her for going to all this trouble.
Which had made Janet go all misty, saying she hadn’t had flowers since she was a girl.
Billy had to admit that Jesus was brilliant outside too. He proved to be great at football and basketball and was immediately in demand for all sport on the road. Even Anthony Murphy, Billy’s best friend, fell in love with Jesus and wasn’t a bit jealous that Billy had to hang around with him.
No, it did Billy no harm at all that he was the one who had this star living in his house.
Jesus and Billy are off to Barcelona Page 3
