I’m devastated by the fact that my time as a footballer is at an end, but I’ll only miss the buzz of playing in front of tens of thousands of fans every week. I won’t miss the dressing-room, won’t miss the ladishness.
I took my first coaching badges a couple of years ago, but I didn’t progress further than that. I knew even then that I didn’t want to be involved in football once I retired from playing. Punditry is an option. I do talk a good game; have been on the RTÉ panel a couple of times. But punditry is genuinely full of bullshit. The truth is, there are no experts looking in from the outside of football. No observer of the game can ever truly know what a manager’s intention is when he sets out his team. And that’s why every opinion a pundit throws out there is literally nonsensical. Players talk about this all the time in the dressing-room; we cringe listening to pundits pretend to know what they’re talking about.
I want out of the sport altogether; think I might work in charities. It’s probably my calling. It’s probably what God wants me to do. Maybe we were meant to hit Caitlin that night.
I watch Sabrina laugh and joke with Li as the four of us stroll up the steps, in search of the exit. I am disappointed, but I think I’m mostly annoyed; annoyed at myself for falling for her. I should have known. Then I notice Zach looking at me. He winks again. Little shite! His cheeky winking is starting to turn a light bulb on over my head. Why the fuck do I believe him? Why have I bought the line that she snogged him? Yes, I know she hugged him as soon as he ran down the stairs, and yes she did go missing from Coppers with him for about twenty minutes or so. But she told me he came on to her and she denied his advances. Why do I believe him over her? He fucking lies on a regular basis.
But he wouldn’t lie to me. Would he? Not his best mate. Surely.
As the four of us stroll through the deserted airport I begin to play all of my time spent with Sabrina over in my head. I’m trying to work her out. Then I let out a sigh. If she hadn’t made it so blatantly clear to me that she wanted sex, I could have bought the nice-girl persona.
I rub my face with the palm of my hand. This is always the way my body informs me that I’m feeling depressed. Maybe I should cancel this whole hotel room thing; ask Sabrina out on a date next week. Get to really know her.
I take my phone out of my pocket, log into my Facebook account and search for Sabrina Doyle, hoping I might get some insight on her. There are dozens of Sabrina Doyles. None of them look like her.
‘Ah, here we are, here’s a way out,’ she says. I watch as she wraps her arm around Li and leads him through the door. What the fuck is she playing at? Is she up for fucking all of us? Is this what she’s after? Three dicks? It couldn’t be. She just likes Li as a friend, surely.
‘Hey,’ I say, calling after her. ‘My phone’s just died. Can I have a quick look at yours? Just want to check in on my emails to make sure the hotel reservation came through.’
She goes into her handbag and takes out her phone.
‘Sure,’ she says thumbing in her passcode. ‘Here you go.’
I haven’t really thought this through. I’m just trying to get a sense of who she is. She doesn’t have the Facebook app. Doesn’t seem to have any social media apps at all. So I check her text messages; bring up the last one she sent.
Asked Niall out straight if he would be interested in going home with me tonight. Red light on this one, Lorna. He genuinely wasn’t interested. I’ll give you a full run down in the morning.
That was two hours ago. Who the fuck is this chick?
23:40
Zach
We pace out of the departure lounge lookin’ like the oddest gang of misfits on the planet.
I’ve no idea how this is going to go down. She’s defo more into Jason than me, but when we get her into that hotel room, we’ll get her up for it. No better man than me to convince a girl to let me inside her.
I’ve never had a threesome before. Have often fantasised about having one, but there’s normally two pussies and one dick in those fantasies, not the other way around. But this is what life should be like for a footballer. Jason should be well up for this. I’m not sure why he’s gone all quiet and mopey since they wouldn’t let us on the flight. Maybe he’s just nervous at the thought of having sex while I’m in the room. But we’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re gonna force her into sex or anything like that. We’ll just talk her into it. She probably won’t need much talkin’ into it anyway — she’s going to have sex with two blokes; one of them a professional footballer, it should be every girl’s fantasy for fuck sake.
We spot a short line of taxis as soon as we get outside and hop in the first one. Li, as usual, gets in the front. This time Sabrina sits in the middle of the back seat, between me and Jason. It seems exciting to me, but everything falls kinda quiet after we tell the taxi man where we’re going. The Merchant Hotel is only a two or three-minute drive, the opposite side of the car park.
‘Are you eh… Jason Kenny?’ the taxi man asks, staring into his rear-view mirror.
‘That’s me,’ Jason replies.
‘Jaysus, Sunderland are gone to the dogs, aren’t they?’
Most people who meet Jason like to mention the goal he scored against Holland, but the odd one or two can be ignorant bastards.
‘They’re still a professional football club, mate,’ I reply. ‘Playing ball for them sure as hell beats driving around in a taxi.’
‘Ah jaysus, I was just sayin—’
‘It’s alright,’ Jason says, relieving the tension. ‘And you’re right, they have gone to the dogs.’
‘Can you not get a move? Back up to the Championship again, or even the Premier League. You were never the fastest, maybe you can still play Premier League,’ the taxi man says.
Jason forces out a laugh.
‘My Premier League days are long gone.’
‘Sorry,’ the taxi man says again. ‘I didn’t mean anything bad by that… it’s just y’know yourself. Two relegations in two years for Sunderland. They used to be such a great club. I’m a big footie fan meself… You eh… you don’t play for Ireland anymore, no?’
‘No, retired from international ball there about three years ago,’ Jason says. ‘Thought it might prolong the club game for me… not sure it worked.’
They’re still ping-ponging football talk to one another when the car comes to a halt.
‘Here y’are, lads… there’s seven euro on the meter, but it’s on me,’ the taxi man says. ‘If you can sign this for me.’
Jason leans over to sign a small slip of paper the taxi man pulled from somewhere while the rest of us climb out of the car. I stare at Sabrina’s ass as she shuffles out ahead of me. I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck her later. She’ll defo be the most attractive bird I’ve ever pulled.
Jason follows us into the lobby and then heads straight for the reception desk. I stand back with Li and Sabrina, wondering how all of this is going to play out. It probably would’ve been better if we’d just let Li go home when he said he wanted to. It’d be beneficial if he was out of the way for this.
I let a loud breath seep out of my nostrils. I’m not sure whether I’m more excited or nervous for what’s about to happen. I’ll be mortified if it turns out Jason has a bigger dick than me. But God couldn’t have been that kind to him. Surely he didn’t get the breaks in football and the bigger cock. Not that I believe in God. Jason’s the only deluded one out of us in that regard. But I don’t even think he does believe in that bullshit. He’s just been conditioned to follow through with his faith. His whole family are religious. His ma and his younger brother still go to mass every Sunday. I often say it’s quite the coincidence that they all ended up believing in the same God. Out of the three thousand or so Gods that humans have invented, it’s quite the coincidence that every member of the same family believes in the same one. It has to be conditioning. People only believe in Gods for one of two reasons, one; conditioning – their faith is decided by their family before they’re
even born or two; they’re desperate. Only desperate people who are looking for direction in life, looking for friends, end up believing in that type of bullshit. I can’t wrap my head around why anybody would want to lie to themselves. It’s all a bit nuts to me. All I know is that I’ve got one life to live, then I’ll be worm food. Which is why I’m gonna make the most of the time I have. It’s why I don’t mind hangin’ out with Keating and his cronies. And it’s why I don’t mind fuckin as many women as I can.
‘Alright guys, the Merchant suite, top floor,’ Jason says, swingin’ a key card at us. We all walk slowly towards the lift. I pick up a menu from the reception desk as we go.
‘Here, what cocktails do you wanna order?’ I say, handing it to Sabrina.
Li practically rests his chin on her shoulder as he looks at the menu. Jason presses the number twelve on the elevator and suddenly we are rising high.
‘Oh, that has loads of ice in it, must be like a Slush Puppie. I’ll have one of them; a Mango Margarita,’ Li says. ‘That’ll go down well.’
‘Yer ma goes down well,’ I say, holding my fist out. Li and Jason bump me, Sabrina just eyeballs me and mocks a head shake.
‘Me too. I’ll have one of those as well,’ she says.
‘Fuck it,’ I say, ‘we’ll order four. Jason… you up for one, yeah?’
Silence.
‘Jason?’
‘Huh?’ he says, snapping out of his daydream. He must be feeling the same way I am. Half excited, half shittin’ himself. He’s probably wondering if my dick is gonna be bigger than his.
‘Do you want a Mango Margarita like the rest of us?’
He nods his head, laughs a little. Then he walks out of the lift, leading us down a wide corridor towards the suite. Li makes a phone call to the reception as we stroll along the corridor and orders the four cocktails.
‘Here we are,’ Jason says, swiping his key over the reader by the door.
I allow the three of them to go in ahead of me. I wanna see Sabrina’s face when she notices we’ve only booked one room.
‘Oh wow,’ she says, entering. ‘This really is stunning.’
I watch as she takes in the lounge, follow her as she makes her way to the tiny kitchenette and then towards the flowers before she takes a sniff of them.
Then she walks through the double doors that lead to the large bedroom. She doesn’t react. Doesn’t say anything apart from purring at how amazing the suite is. She isn’t put out at all by the fact that there’s only one bed. My palms begin to moisten. Fuckin’ deadly! This bitch really is up for this.
10
There’s not much of an aesthetic difference between this room and the one they’d spent the previous three and a half hours in.
This one’s slightly larger, and certainly more dimly lit. They don’t have that big bright lamp shining down on them — just a regular bulb that doesn’t offer as much of an unflattering glare. It’s a more hollow room, too — the voices almost echo around it. The walls are still painted a clean white and the carpet is the same bright red that seems to lie behind every door in this building.
The young man dressed in all black paces quietly around the table, stopping at each juror to stretch over them and fill their glass with ice water. The table is more rectangular than the one in the jury room; five seats on each side, one then at each end. Brian, of course, sat in one of these as if he was the head of the family. Number Ten, who sat in the other, offered her chair to Number One – as Head Juror – but he waved away her invite, insisting it didn’t matter where he was seated during lunch.
The young man dressed in all black pauses in the doorway after he’s finished filling each of their glasses, then asks the jurors if they have any questions. Each of them shake their heads.
‘Lunch will be served in the next few minutes,’ the young man dressed in black then tells them before he opens the door and walks out, shutting it tight behind him. The turning of the latch echoes off the walls, almost like the clanging sound of a prison cell being locked. The room falls silent, save for the subtle sound of a few jurors sipping on their water.
‘Okay,’ Number One finally says, ‘the judge said it is dependent on us whether or not we’d like to continue deliberations over lunch. I propose we do, but if the majority feels as if they’d like to take a break for the next hour, I totally understand.’
His fellow jurors all look around the room, most nodding their head in unison.
‘So will we do a vote?’ Brian asks.
Number Five tuts — loudly — but nobody responds to her, they just stare at their Head Juror for instruction.
‘Hands up,’ he says, ‘if you would like to continue deliberations over lunch?’
Eight hands fly up, followed by another hesitant two. Only Number Four and Number Five keep their hands down. They both fancy taking a legitimate break; Number Five because she is lazy, Number Four because he knows that if deliberations are to continue, he will be called on first. After all, the jurors were seeking his opinion on the fact that Jason only booked one hotel room when they were interrupted by the lunch call.
‘Ten:two,’ Number One says, calling out the result. ‘Majority rules. We will continue deliberations. So… we were discussing the hotel, right? Number Four, you were about to give your opinion on why Jason only booked one room. Would you like to begin the discussion?’
Number Four rubs one of his eyes, buying himself another couple of seconds to think through his opinion. It didn’t help that he had the two-minute walk through a maze of corridors to consider his answer before he found himself in this position, because his mind kept changing. His answer to this question didn’t match with his verdict overall. He was now beginning to feel that the men should be acquitted, that they didn’t rape Sabrina Doyle. But he couldn’t justify the booking of only one hotel room based on this verdict.
‘I eh… I think Jason ordered one hotel room because they all felt as if group sex was what was gonna happen,’ he says really slowly, as if he didn’t want to say it at all. When the room stays silent and all eyes remain fixed on him, he feels pressured into elaborating. ‘I eh… just don’t see any other reason for it. One bed? They must have known what was going to happen at this stage. But…’ he says, sitting more upright, ‘maybe Sabrina knew at this stage, too. Maybe they discussed group sex, all four of them, at the airport.’
‘That’s total speculation,’ Number Five says. ‘Nobody, not Jason or Li or Zach or Sabrina mentioned group sex was discussed at the airport. So you’ve just made that up.’
‘I’m just—’ Number Four was about to answer but his words were being drowned out by arguments reverberating around the whole table. Almost everybody was talking, nobody listening.
‘Hold on!’ Number One says loudly, slamming the palm of his hand onto the table, causing the cutlery to zing with vibration. ‘Can we all just settle down?’ The room falls into line immediately. ‘It’s a good point Number Five has raised. Nobody has testified that group sex was ever mentioned at the airport, yet only one bedroom was booked. I mean… this seems really iffy.’
Another ripple of murmurings arise, but Number One holds his hand up to stop it and then stretches his index finger out, pointing it at Number Ten. ‘Sorry guys, one at a time. Number Ten — you speak up.’
‘I just wonder if at this particular time in the night Jason was just booking the room for him and Sabrina to spend the night in, that the other two just went along for the cocktails but were supposed to leave when the party died down or whatever. I find it hard to believe that he just booked one bed for all four of them to sleep in. I don’t think the room was booked for all of them to spend the night there. They failed to get to Newcastle, so they decided to continue the party in the Merchant Suite… maybe the idea was that Zach and Li would get a taxi home or whatever at some point in the night. And y’know… one thing led to another and…’
‘And what?’ Number Five asks.
‘And all three men had sex with S
abrina.’
‘Yeah but with her consent or not?’ Number Twelve poses.
‘Well that’s the big question isn’t it?’ Number Ten says. ‘Sabrina insists she said “no”, the boys insist that word never came out of her mouth.’
This whole trial boils down to whether or not the jurors believed Sabrina tried to stop the men from having intercourse with her. The defence team tried to argue that everybody consented to group sex; probably agreed upon because of the amount of alcohol that had been consumed by all involved. Gerd Bracken said that Jason, Zach and Li had drunk five or six pints of Heineken each, had three shots of Baby Guinness and then sipped on a cocktail when they got to the Merchant Hotel. He held both his hands up in the court, right in front of the jury and said, ‘Yes, my clients are willing to admit they were intoxicated to some extent that evening, they are honest, hard-working men. They want to tell you the truth… and yes, they consumed a lot of alcohol during the night in question. Unlike Sabrina Doyle,’ he said, turning to face the claimant. ‘She says she wasn’t really intoxicated because she mostly drank non-alcoholic wine throughout the evening. But it is a fact that Jason bought Sabrina four glasses of red wine — alcoholic red wine — two Baby Guinness shots and a Mango Margarita cocktail. Sabrina Doyle wasn’t as sober during the night in question as she would try to lead you to believe,’ he continued. ‘She consumed, that we know of — there could have been more — twelve units of alcohol. The men also consumed twelve units of alcohol. Each of them were relatively as intoxicated as each other. Sabrina Doyle was not as sober as she would like to lead you to believe.’
Bracken was telling the truth. Given that wine contains more alcohol than lager, even though Sabrina had fewer drinks, she consumed just as much alcohol. Though he did sensationalise Sabrina’s testimony. She didn’t argue that she was sober during her time on the stand, she just insisted that she drank a mixture of non-alcoholic wine and alcoholic wine. She testified she “may have been drunk, but didn’t necessarily feel drunk,” during the night in question.
She Said, Three Said Page 19
