Father's Music

by Dermot Bolger

  ‘Easy prey for Luke,’ Al said, bitterly. ‘Get them young and impressionable.’

  ‘He was young himself then.’ I wondered why I always seemed to defend him.

  Al snorted. ‘He’s your father and you feel loyal to him but that fellow was never young. He was hatched out middle-aged and with attitude. Give him any challenge and he can never resist it. Give him what he wants and he walks away, bored.’

  ‘Can we leave Luke out of it,’ I said, uneasily, wondering if Al was trying to warn me.

  ‘Gladly,’ Al replied. ‘He’s caused nothing but trouble since coming home. I only hope he has the decency to fuck off with himself and leave us alone on the way over at least.’

  I put my fork down. The sensation was the same as the night I looked into my hotel mirror to find Luke observing me.

  ‘You mean he’s here,’ I said, ‘on this boat?’

  Al looked surprised. ‘I thought you knew,’ he said. ‘He’s taking a car which belonged to Christy across to London. He has a buyer for it for ready cash. I mean, it was his idea that I hide in London and ask you if I could stay. When I phoned him from the video shop, he offered to send tickets to the Pleasure Dome by courier. How else could I have got them so late at night?’ Al stopped, disturbed by my reaction. ‘Are you okay?’

  I rose from the table and ran outside. I saw Al through the porthole leave money on his plate and follow me. There was nowhere to run. The sky was overcast and it was cold. The sea was choppy. I felt like a doll being perpetually moved around. I leaned over the rail and my entire breakfast came up. Al found me and held my shoulder.

  ‘Are you okay, Trace?’ he asked.

  I shook his hand off and stared at him. How much did Al know or was he simply being used as well? That was the problem with lies, they grew to consume you. How could I accuse him of deceit when I had played him along? Since my first trip to Dublin I’d learnt to manipulate the truth as effortlessly as Luke did, concealing scars about my person and lying as convincingly to myself as to anyone else. Now, looking at Al, I was sure he didn’t have it in him to cover up for Luke. I also knew I could say nothing without revealing how I had played along with the lies told to him.

  ‘I’ve no sealegs,’ I said, ‘this is my first time.’

  ‘That’s all right.’ Al smiled. ‘I’m a virgin too.’

  ‘I won’t ask where.’

  He grinned and I felt shamed by the honesty on his face. He took my arm and led me up steps to an exposed bench on the upper deck.

  ‘Sit here,’ he said, ‘your stomach won’t feel so bad in the open air.’

  Although it was cold, he took his jacket off and insisted I wear it. Even on this boat he was uneasy about his safety. When two men mounted the steps to stare towards us for a moment Al went quiet and I felt him take my hand and squeeze it tight. Yet despite his fear, he seemed more concerned with cheering me up. He sang mock Christmas carols about shepherds washing their socks by night and told elaborate yarns about his night-time misadventures and romantic failings. Even as I sat, with one eye waiting for Luke to appear, Al could still make me laugh.

  ‘Did Luke tell you where I lived?’ I asked.

  ‘He didn’t seem to know the address.’

  ‘Have you to contact him in London?’

  ‘He said not to, unless I was in trouble.’

  ‘Then you have to promise something,’ I told him. ‘I don’t want to see Luke again. If I let you stay you can’t give him my address.’

  ‘Have you two fallen out?’

  ‘Just promise.’

  Al nodded. ‘When did you find out he was your father?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it, okay.’

  ‘You don’t need him,’ Al said. ‘You seem to have got on well enough without any father up to now.’

  ‘Just leave it out, Al.’

  He said nothing, silenced by a tone in my voice that I regretted. He looked cold but I couldn’t get him to take his jacket back. I stood up for us to go back inside. ‘Save a few of your stories,’ I said, ‘or we’ll have nothing to talk about in the flat.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Al agreed, ‘but there’s one rule I’m laying down. From now on you bathe yourself.’

  I punched him playfully and he grabbed my hands. It was the first time any man had done that when I didn’t want to pull away. We stood still, our bodies close, both remembering that shower. I leaned forward and Al lowered his face towards mine. We almost kissed, then we both looked away. Al was confused and slightly embarrassed.

  ‘Let’s go in,’ he said, matter of factly. ‘It’s bleeding freezing out here.’

  I climbed down the steel steps ahead of him. There was a gust of salt wind and I gripped the handrail. I looked back to see him staring at my blown hair.

  ‘Blonde doesn’t suit you,’ he said.

  If Luke was on board he kept well away. We had coffee inside and only came back out on deck when the coastline of Wales appeared. People started to drift down to their cars and we followed. The ship docked and, after a time, daylight appeared as the bow doors opened. The cars began to move slowly forward in two lanes. The police were there along with customs officers, occasionally stopping vehicles for random checks. We were about forty cars away from the checkpoint when Al’s door was pulled open. Luke leaned in, not looking at me.

  ‘Listen,’ Luke said, ‘the English police are searching for someone. I think they want to question you. I called your father on my mobile before we docked. He said the guards called to your flat last night and then to his house asking about you. If Tracey is with you she’ll be taken in for questioning as well. Let’s keep her out of this, right.’

  Luke still hadn’t looked across and I didn’t look at him. Everything made sense now. He was expecting me to be forced into his car. But I didn’t care if the police detained me, I wasn’t going to be tricked into changing vehicles.

  ‘What do I do?’ Al asked, so scared that I knew he was being manipulated too.

  ‘Get out of the car before we’re seen,’ Luke ordered. I ignored his demand and then realised that he was still addressing Al. ‘Get into Christy’s car with me. I’m used to being hassled, but let’s get Tracey safely away.’

  Al touched my arm. ‘Can you drive?’ he asked and I nodded, confused. ‘I’m sorry about this.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said, forced to turn towards Al. I saw Luke stare at me, genuinely concerned.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tracey,’ Luke said. ‘Sometimes things happen beyond your control. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’

  I didn’t reply. Al reached into the back seat for his luggage and Luke stopped him.

  ‘For Christ’s sake,’ he said. ‘Use your brain for once. How suspicious do you want to look? We’ll sort things out later.’

  Cars were starting to beep as a space cleared in front of Luke’s car in the other lane. Luke and Al ran to climb into it and drive on. Everything had happened so fast. I didn’t know what to say if I was stopped or what to do afterwards. I clambered over the gear stick and released the hand brake. The car shot forward and I almost crashed into the transit van in front. My hands were shaking. I hated Luke, yet I would have given anything to have him beside me for one minute to explain what I was meant to do. The other lane was moving faster. I saw their car reach the police officers. It was stopped and waved over to one side. Al and Luke got out and I saw Luke being asked for identification while Al was searched. A policeman took the keys from Luke and opened the boot while another man in overalls lay down to examine under the vehicle. It probably only took two minutes for my car to reach the checkpoint, but it seemed an eternity. Al was being led inside while Luke spoke calmly to the policeman examining his passport. I waited to be stopped too. I could imagine the cells nearby and being strip searched. Luke never looked in my direction as cars beeped behind me. A customs official had to tap on the glass.

  ‘Come on now, madam,’ he urged, ‘you’re holding everyone up.’

&nbs
p; I kept driving, following the car in front and not even sure if I was taking the route on to the motorway towards London. I pulled in at the first lay-by and sat there for a whole hour and then another, scanning every car which passed. At the speed they were travelling it was impossible to see if Luke’s was among them, but I hoped he would see me and pull in. I had never given Al my address. Now I realised how much I’d been looking forward to bringing him home.

  Finally I had to drive on, hoping there was enough petrol to get me to London. I only had a few useless Irish coins. I followed the road signs and counted the miles, watching the petrol gauge dip inexorably down. By the outskirts of London it was already near empty. I coaxed the car on, trying to think of short cuts and cursing the afternoon snarl of Christmas traffic. A warning sign for petrol was flashing on the dashboard by the time I reached the start of my road. I left Al’s car in a space several hundred yards from my house. I didn’t want it parked any closer.

  I took out the sportsbag, then Al’s bag as well. There were letters piled on the hall table, mainly Christmas cards for tenants who had long since left. Only two envelopes were addressed to me. One contained my giro and the other a card from Garth. My flat stank from a carton of milk I had forgotten to throw out. I lit the gas fire and opened the bay window. The room looked small and shabby. I was hungry but most of all I wanted to sleep. I wondered if Al was okay and how long I would have been detained by the police if Luke hadn’t intervened. I was grateful to him for getting me away. I’ll make it up to you, he’d said. He never could, but I had to admit that I’d been wrong about him at the ferry port. If he had simply been using me he would never have taken my place.

  The drive home had drained me. My legs were shaking. I kept walking nervously around, picking up objects and putting them down, trying to reclaim my own space. I locked the flat door and put the bolt on. I closed the window and drew the curtains. I took a blanket off the bed and spread it over me on the armchair, even though it wasn’t cold and I was still fully dressed. It was too late to cash the giro and there was nothing to eat. I sweetened a cup of black coffee with sugar and tried to remember when I last had a proper meal. Even breakfast on the boat had been vomited up. The coffee only made me hungrier. Al’s bags were thrown just inside the door. I kept ignoring their presence, avoiding any decisions about what to do with them or his car. I’d only seen Luke’s house once from a taxi but it had been in a maze of similar streets on a large estate. I couldn’t just turn up there. I wondered if there was an address book inside Al’s bag or some English money to buy food that I could replace when I cashed my giro in the morning.

  I hated opening his bag, but there seemed no other way forward. Taking his clothes out made me realise how impossible it would have been for Al to stay here. I fingered his shirts, liking the style of them. A white tee-shirt offered girls the chance of being wined, dined and sixty-nined. There was an assortment of odd socks, mainly unwashed and a pile of dance CDs in a plastic bag. Four sets of underpants were neatly folded. They looked cute and far too small for him. I had to laugh, enjoying getting to know him through his clothes. There were two notebooks filled with terrible rap lyrics transplanted to Dublinese with lines crossed out like; ‘I’m a Dublin Dude from The Five Lamps, my heart wants to rock but my foot just stamps.’ Underneath them, at the bottom of the bag, a thick woollen jumper felt heavy as I lifted it out. Something slid from inside it. I put my hand out to catch whatever it was and it struck my wrist, causing me to wince in pain. It clattered against the leg of the bed and hit the carpet with a soft thud. I stared at it, hearing my heart beat so violently that it frightened me. My breath reminded me of a woman I once saw having an asthma attack on the Tube. I was in shock. I almost seemed to be outside myself, watching as I reached down and stopped. I didn’t want to leave fingerprints. I wrapped a nightdress around my hand and only then did I pick up the gun.

  I knew it had been used to kill McGann. Al had deceived me all along. I had fallen totally for his act. I placed the barrel in my mouth and closed my eyes. It brought all the memories back. A cheap English tart. The barrel was cold as I bit against it until my teeth hurt. I wanted to hurt every Irishman I’d ever known. I couldn’t believe the ways I imagined making them suffer. Then I stopped, sickened with myself, and flung the gun against the far wall. I clutched the pillow, frightened the collision would set it off. But it clattered to the floor and I couldn’t even tell if it was loaded. I didn’t bother undressing. I pulled the blanket over my head, curled up into a ball and cried my eyes out until, somehow, I finally slept.

  I don’t know how long my bell was ringing or what time of night it was. I was so exhausted I must have been nearly impossible to wake, but finally the buzzing invaded my sleep. I stirred slowly, then found myself awake. My first thought was of how the continuous ringing must be disturbing every flat in the house. I stumbled sleepily into the hall to unlock the front door. I didn’t even think to put the chain on or ask who it was. My eyes hurt and for a few seconds I didn’t recognise Al in the street light. His face was battered and there was blood running from his nose. He had been leaning forward with his head against the door and his hand on the bell. He stumbled into the hall and instinctively I caught him.

  ‘Jesus,’ I said, ‘is this what the police did to you?’

  ‘No.’ It was Luke’s voice. I looked back to see him on the bottom step. ‘I brought him here to apologise.’

  He climbed the steps, grabbed Al by the hair and shoved him through my open flat door. Al stumbled over his bag and slipped on to the floor. I stood in the hallway, looking out. I could scream for help but how would I explain the presence of a gun in my flat? I was white with anger.

  ‘How did you find me?’ I screamed. ‘How long have you known my address?’

  Luke ignored the question and kicked Al. I ran into the flat to come between them. Luke grabbed my hands in the doorway. I tried to shake him off but he held them tight, pulling me close to him and kicking the flat door shut.

  ‘You found the gun, didn’t you?’ he said. ‘We were half-way to London before the little bastard confessed. Can this stupid family of mine never fucking walk away from trouble? Al says the gun isn’t his, it belonged to Christine which means Christy had it hidden about the house. God knows what the ballistics experts could link it to. Christine got upset during the funeral. She was wandering around drunk upstairs back in the house. Al says she started waving the gun and talking about killing McGann. He grabbed it from her, but people who should never have been allowed near the house saw him with it being chased down stairs by Christine. After McGann was shot those people put two and two together.’

  Al stirred as if trying to rise and Luke used his foot to send him sprawling back on to the carpet.

  ‘You stupid little bastard,’ Luke told him angrily and then looked at me. ‘He claims he didn’t kill McGann, he just walked around for hours trying to find somewhere safe to dump the gun, before he heard about McGann’s murder on the news and went back to the video shop. But I’m not convinced yet.’

  Luke knelt to grab Al by the hair, swinging him around so that he was staring up at Luke’s face.

  ‘Why didn’t you dump the fucking gun if you did nothing?’ Luke shouted. ‘You used Tracey. You told me you wanted somewhere to stay, but she could have gone to jail for travelling in that car. Do you know what you get for conspiracy? Now tell the truth, did you murder McGann?’

  I screamed as Luke raised his fist and struck Al again. I grabbed his shoulder and he let Al fall and turned to me.

  ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I was crazy bringing you to Dublin. I thought I could keep you out of this, I thought I could keep my whole family out of it, but Christy’s left a mess behind. It spiralled. I’m sorry.’

  He put his hand out to touch my face and I flinched.

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ I said.

  ‘I did this for you.’ Luke pointed at Al lying on the carpet. ‘I’d do the same to anyone who put you in danger.
I don’t care who they are. That’s how much I think of you.’

  ‘I know what you think of me,’ I said. Luke looked hurt and spread his hands out.

  ‘You can’t hold that business in the taxi against me,’ he said. ‘I had to shock you back to your senses. I had to get to that funeral. The church was like an explosion waiting to happen, gougers and hardchaws hanging about. I could smell trouble. You knew our time was up and you started inventing a cock and bull story about some fiddler you never heard of. Now I know I was out of line but so were you. Love bites are one thing, but deliberately sabotaging me getting to the funeral is another. Don’t pretend you don’t know well I never meant a word I said.’

  ‘A cheap English tart,’ I said, ‘that’s all I ever was to you. Now get out!’

  ‘And bring him as well?’

  I went quiet, staring at Al looking up through the only eye he seemed about to open. He said nothing, but I knew that he realised I had been lying to him. Luke’s voice was quieter.

  ‘Look at him. Would I do that to my own nephew over some tart?’

  This felt like a nightmare. I knelt to touch the blood on Al’s face. He stared at me and still didn’t speak. I remembered Luke’s suspicion that Al was a fast mover.

  ‘I never asked you to do this,’ I said.

  ‘We had something special going in Dublin,’ Luke replied. ‘Don’t say you didn’t feel it too. You didn’t want to let me go in the taxi. It’s why you made up that story to delay me.’

  ‘It was the truth.’

  ‘Don’t keep it up,’ Luke said. ‘Mac Suibhne never left Donegal in his life.’