As for his family, Billy put it all down to nerves about the party. They hadn’t had a party in their house since Granny Teresa and Uncle Dick had come to live with them.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jesus Goes to a Disco
Anthony, who was the DJ for the night, waved at Jesus and Billy as soon as they came in. ‘This next one,’ he yelled, ‘is for Mary and Decco who are celebrating their four-month anniversary.’
Father Moran, who was running the disco, came up to him, and put his mouth as close as possible to Anthony’s right ear. ‘Have you got anything in your collection that could make our foreign guests feel at home?’
Jesus wasn’t the only Spaniard in the hall. There were several others, a few Italians and one lone, bored English boy. The student-exchange business was beginning to take off in the area.
Father Moran pulled back a little from Anthony’s ear. ‘Maybe one of the Eurovisions?’
Anthony, afraid that anyone might hear this, jumped back as though avoiding a wasp. ‘Ah no, Father,’ he said, ‘but if you hang on, I think I have the very thing.’ He rooted around and came up with a CD single. ‘Here it is, Father.’ Then, raising his voice again: ‘Hey – HEY! YAY! AMIGOS! WOWEE!’
As the first notes of ‘La Macarena’ thundered down the hall, Billy dug Jesus in the ribs. ‘You have to get up, Jesus.’ Billy was anxious that his personal Spaniard wouldn’t let the side down. He pointed to Doreen who was hanging around with a bunch of her snotty friends near the stage and trying to look careless.
‘This is a good one to ask Doreen up for,’ Billy went on. ‘You won’t even have to touch her in this one.’
Two hours later, Doreen was frustrated. She had danced with Jesus. Her friends had danced with Jesus. But they all agreed that, beautiful and all as he was, not one of them could shift him.
He wasn’t cold or boring or anything like that. ‘It’s just like he isn’t there or something,’ Doreen’s friend, Betty, had said. Betty was free for the night because her boyfriend was away.
Now Doreen had managed to get Jesus outside. She wanted a smoke and he had been too polite to refuse to go with her. She looked up at him. ‘They’re all kids in there,’ she said. ‘Why don’t we hop down to the chipper? I could murder a long ray and a single.’
Jesus looked puzzled. ‘Murder?’
Doreen sighed. ‘Never mind,’ she said.
‘I tell Billy that – ’
‘Told him Kaysus,’ corrected Doreen. ‘You told him – ’
‘I told him I go outside with you for your cigarette only. You are finished your cigarette now. I am very cold. Is very cold evening. Please, we go inside?’
Doreen sighed again. She tried one last time. ‘Only if you dance with me again?’
‘Of course.’ Jesus frowned. ‘But everyone ask – is asking – me to dance. I must not refuse, no? Is not polite ?’
Doreen looked hard at him. ‘Sometimes, Kaysus, I don’t know whether or not you’re taking the piss.’
‘Taking the piss?’ Jesus frowned again. ‘I do not understand this taking the – ’
‘Oh for God’s sake, have it your own way.’ Doreen stomped off, sulking. She’d had enough. He could go to hell.
Jesus followed her inside.
Inside, there was a lull in the music. Billy, who was sucking Coca-Cola through a straw from a can, saw Jesus come in. ‘Over here, Jesus,’ he called.
Jesus walked over. ‘Billy, we go home, soon, please?’
‘It’s a quarter-to-twelve,’ Billy replied. ‘It’ll be over in fifteen minutes. Do you want a packet of crisps?’
They were interrupted by Father Moran. ‘How’re ye lads? Enjoying it? Some great women here tonight, eh – what?’
His next words were drowned out as ‘Never Ever’ from All Saints boomed from the loudspeakers.
‘That’s a great song altogether,’ Father Moran yelled happily. ‘I really dig the Spice Girls. Go on now, the pair of ye.’ He slapped both of them on their backs. ‘There’s not much time left for ye to click – eh? Shoo! Out there now, out – out of my sight.’
Jesus followed Billy on to the dance floor. ‘ “Click”? Billy, what means this “click”?’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jesus Gives Billy a Shock
It was after one in the morning.
Jesus and Billy were sitting on the sofa in the sitting room, which was already decorated with paper chains for the party. Billy had nicked some vodka out of the party supplies. The two of them were drinking it mixed with Coca-Cola as they watched a Don Johnson video.
They hadn’t turned the main light on, and the glow from the table lamp on the coffee table in front of the fireplace made the room look cosy.
Jesus sipped his drink. ‘We do not have dances like this in Barcelona,’ he said. ‘I hope you will not be disappointed.’
Billy smiled happily. ‘Ireland’s a kip. I can’t wait. This video is crap.’ He stood up. ‘I’m starving, do you want chips? I can make some, or we could go back out to the chipper?’
Jesus pretended to groan. ‘Always food. Everyone in Ireland eat all the time – ’
‘Eats.’ Billy, who was turning off the telly and the video, had got used to correcting Jesus’ English. ‘You say “eats”.’
‘Eats,’ repeated Jesus, ‘yes. Thank you. But no thank you, I would not like to eat chips now.’
‘Oh all right,’ Billy replied cheerfully. ‘I’ll just go into the kitchen. Ma’ll have left something out for us. But its probably a feckin’ salad. Thanks to you, ya dork!’ He thumped Jesus playfully on the arm as he passed him by.
But Jesus sprang to his feet and, laughing, thumped him back and before Billy knew it, they were locked together, wrestling, giggling, pretend-fighting.
Until suddenly, Billy found himself on the sofa underneath Jesus with Jesus’ face very close to his.
They stopped fighting. Billy was feeling very, very strange. All kinds of feelings raced up and down inside him. In the course of a second or two, he felt excited, caught, embarrassed, curious, afraid, ashamed, excited again. Most of all excited.
Billy knew that he should get up. He should shove Jesus aside and get out from under him. He could laugh it off then. They could both laugh it off. But he didn’t move. Jesus’ breath felt warm. It smelled sweet.
Jesus very gently kissed Billy.
‘What the HELL is going on here?’
Over Jesus’ shoulder, Billy saw Jimmy’s appalled face framed in the doorway. In the dim light, it looked like a Hallowe’en mask.
His father snapped on the main light as Billy scrambled out from beneath Jesus.
Jesus didn’t seem put out at all. ‘Good evening, Mr O’Connor,’ he said politely. ‘We were – ’ He hesitated as he searched for the right word.
‘Janet!’ screamed Jimmy.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jesus Never Explains
Within seconds, Doreen and Janet were standing, gaping into the sitting room. Jimmy, who was purple in the face, could not string two words together.
Billy wanted to cry like a baby except he was frightened that if he did something awful might happen.
The only one who kept his cool was Jesus. He shrugged. What was the big deal, his expression seemed to say.
At last Jimmy managed to get a few words to come out of his mouth. ‘Get to – get to bed – you – ’ His hand was shaking as he pointed first to Billy and then out towards the conservatory.
Billy ran past him, afraid of getting a box, although Jimmy had never in his life raised a hand to either of his children.
‘As for you – ’ Jimmy turned to Jesus: ‘As for you . . .’
Words failed him again. ‘You deal with it,’ he yelled at Janet. Then Jimmy ran upstairs.
Janet, in jim-jams and still half asleep, turned to Doreen. ‘Was it the vodka that upset him or what?’
Doreen glared at Jesus. ‘No, mother,’ she said, ice dripping from every word. ‘It wasn’t the vod
ka.’ She grabbed Janet’s arm and pulled her away from the door and up the stairs.
Jesus, who still wore an expression of polite surprise, was left alone in the sitting room. He sat back down on the sofa as the sounds of hell broke through the house from the floor upstairs.
He took another sip of his vodka
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sharon Sorts It
Next morning, when Sharon and Jackie arrived on the doorstep of the Finglas O’Connors, Billy was nowhere to be seen. Jimmy had woken him early. He had dragged him out of The Conservatory, into the car and down the country to a cousin of Granny Teresa’s. He was to stay there for a week. No arguments.
Janet, frozen-faced, answered the door to Sharon’s ring. Behind her, Jesus’ posh luggage was piled in a neat heap. ‘Don’t talk. Just get him out of here,’ Janet said.
Sharon, whose faith in Brigitte was taking a beating (putting the light around any of these people had been a waste of time), stepped inside the hall door and took up the first suitcase.
It was her last task for Irlanda Exchange because Sharon had decided to quit. This job was doing her head in.
She’d had a tearful conversation about it with her Daddy late the previous night and he had agreed that she should leave. No one should have to go through this kind of stress. She might as well be a social worker.
While Jackie tried to get Janet to sign some kind of form which let the agency off the hook, Sharon kept her head down and, one by one, took Jesus’ cases out to Jackie’s battered old Mondeo. She longed for the peace and cleanliness of the Polo. Only another half-hour or so and then they could dump this guy at the airport and she was free.
There was one shocking moment, when Jesus came down the stairs and had to pass Janet in the doorway. He put out his hand as though to shake Janet’s.
Sharon thought Janet was going to explode. The woman’s eyes bulged and she started to pant. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish but nothing came out. She was wearing a ratty old dressing-gown with a rabbit on the pocket. She pulled this tight around her as though she was freezing cold.
While your man still stood there, she turned and ran into the kitchen.
Jesus was all theirs. Hers and Jackie’s.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
What Jesus Left Behind
So Billy never got off to Barcelona and after Jesus’ departure life went back to normal.
But not quite.
Billy became moody, even moodier then he was before Jesus came into their lives. He couldn’t talk about women any more without remembering the odd, strange sweetness of Jesus’ kiss.
Anthony got fed up with him. And after a few weeks of seeing him moping around, Granny Teresa had had enough too. She put Father Moran on the case.
Father Moran made things worse. Father Moran’s solution was that Billy should join An Óige and get out into God’s clear mountain air. He talked about every boy feeling mixed up at Billy’s age and told him he would grow out of it
The problem was, Billy had no idea whether or not he wanted to grow out of it. He couldn’t care less that Anthony had dumped him. Because now he thought Anthony’s talk about Playboy magazine and Pamela Anderson and all the rest of it was just plain childish. Having walked on the wild side, Billy wanted none of that kiddy crap anymore.
But he did take up Father Moran’s offer to allow him to use the computer at the parish house. Like all his pals, Billy knew how to access the Internet and, as soon as Father Moran left him alone, he found a site for ‘Barcelona’. Trying to imagine where Jesus lived, he took a virtual tour of all the tourist sights.
Then he got into a temper. It looked lovely. He could have been there. He could have been sitting in the sunshine with Jesus. He could have been sipping real drinks instead of the gunge they served at the Youth Club. He could have been swimming on golden sands and meeting Spanish women in their bikinis.
The problem was, he didn’t know who to blame. Or how to feel about women in their bikinis. Much as he hated to admit it, Father Moran was right. Everything was all mixed up.
Day by day, Billy’s temper got worse. Someone was to blame, that was for sure.
Because he couldn’t pin the blame on anyone without thinking dreadful thoughts about Jesus, Billy took to his bed in the conservatory for the rest of the summer. He ate there, slept there and came out only to go to the bathroom. Everyone would have been worried about him if they hadn’t been feeling terrible themselves.
Take Doreen. Doreen secretly confided in Betty that she knew now for sure that she’d never get a boyfriend. Otherwise, why wasn’t she able to straighten Jesus out? She had had him under the same roof, hadn’t she? Living with him night and day.
It was no use Betty consoling her and telling her that of course she’d get a boyfriend, that everyone did, sooner or later. Doreen just shot Betty a filthy look, walked straight into the chipper and ordered herself a batter-burger and a large single.
And then there was Janet. Jimmy would look up sometimes and catch her watching him with narrowed eyes. ‘What’s the matter?’ he’d ask.
What he would get for his pains would be a complaint about the colour of his tie. Or why couldn’t he smarten up a bit? Get his hair cut. Throw out those old shoes, for God’s sake . . .
Poor Jimmy couldn’t talk to anyone about anything. Especially about the gap in his heart where his marriage used to be. He took to going to the pub instead of coming home to face the closed-up expression in his wife’s eyes.
As for Granny Teresa, she stopped singing around the house and could often be found sitting in a chair and staring into space. The odd time Billy and she talked to one another, both knew that the word ‘Barcelona’ could not be mentioned. Yet Billy’s non-trip to Barcelona always lay between them like a wet sheep.
Everybody had changed.
All except Uncle Dick of course. As a matter of fact, Uncle Dick was the only person in Billy’s story who was exactly the same as he was before Jesus came to Finglas.
Except Jesus, of course.
OPEN DOOR SERIES
Sad Song by Vincent Banville
In High Germany by Dermot Bolger
Not Just for Christmas by Roddy Doyle
Maggie’s Story by Sheila O’Flanagan
Jesus and Billy Are Off to Barcelona
by Deirdre Purcell
Ripples by Patricia Scanlan
Jesus and Billy are off to Barcelona Page 4
