Roddy Doyle - The Van

He took two small pieces of parsley from the bag Maggie’d given him, aimed and dropped one onto the soup in each bowl.

— Nice touch, tha’, he said.

Bimbo got into his jacket.

— How’s the back, Darren? he asked.

Darren rubbed down Bimbo’s back, getting rid of the creases.

Bimbo put the tea-towel over his arm.

The jacket Maggie’d got Bimbo was the stupidest thing Jimmy Sr’d ever seen. He felt humiliated just looking at Bimbo in it. It was white, with goldy buttons, and the sleeves were too long. But it didn’t bother Bimbo; he thought he was Lord fuckin’ Muck in it — the man in charge.

— Away we go so, said Bimbo.

He checked his watch again.

— Yeah, he said. — They were told to have the table set for half-seven.

He picked up the bowls, using the cuffs to mind his fingers.

— Ring the bell for me, Darren.

— Okay.

— Good lad. Bring the candles as well, will yeh.

— Ah fuck—

— Go on, Darren, said Jimmy Sr. — You’re alrigh’; they’re vegetarian candles.

— Humour, said Darren.

Bimbo climbed carefully out of the van.

— Get back quick with the main order, Jimmy Sr said after them.

— Will do.

The chips were a definite so Jimmy Sr lowered the basket into the fryer. Larry and Mona wouldn’t be long getting rid of the soup. Mind you, they mightn’t know what it was. They put water on their cornflakes in that house; so everyone said, anyway.

Bimbo and Darren were back.

— How’d it go?

— It was embarrassin’, said Darren.

— How was it? Jimmy Sr asked him.

— He started singin’.

— He’s always singin’.

Bimbo took over.

— The minute he saw the candles he started singing to Mona. Tha’ one, I Can’t Help Fallin’ In Love With You.

— Wha? — WISE MEN SAY — ONLY FOO-ILS RUSH IN — Tha’ one?

— Yeah.

— Jaysis. He’s gettin’ worse. Did they like the soup?

— Stop it, said Bimbo. — Their spoons were clackin’ off the bowls. He was singin’ an’ drinkin’ at the same time.

— They didn’t think much o’ the parsley though, Darren told his da.

— Now there’s a surprise, said Jimmy Sr.

— He said if he’d wanted weeds in his dinner he‘d’ve gone ou’ the back an’ got some of his own.

— Tha’ sort o’ thing is wasted on shite-bags like them, said Jimmy Sr.

Back to business.

— What’s the main course?

— Smoked cod for Larry an’ the same for Mona, said Bimbo. — An’ they both want a few pineapple fritters as well.

— And onion rings, Darren reminded him.

— Oh, that’s righ’. Mona said she’d go a couple of onion rings as well.

— Jaysis, said Jimmy Sr. — They’ll keep her up all night if Larry doesn’t.

He dropped the orders into the fryer, except the pineapples; they only took a few seconds or they’d turn to mush.

— Do they want wine? said Jimmy Sr when he’d everything else in order.

— Yeah, said Darren.

— Black or blue?

— Blue.

Jimmy Sr ducked in under the hot plate and got out a bottle of Blue Nun.

— Do the business with tha’, he said to Darren, and he held the bottle out to him.

— I’d better get back for their sweets, said Darren.

Jimmy Sr turned to Bimbo.

— There, he said. — Suck the cork ou’ o’ tha’.

Bimbo got working on the bottle with the corkscrew and Jimmy Sr put the two plates on the hatch counter and made a hill of chips on each of them.

— There’ll be no complaints abou’ the quantity annyway, wha’, said Jimmy Sr. — Give someone more than they think they’re entitled to and yeh have a friend for life.

— Cos they know we give value for money, said Bimbo.

— Cos they think we’re fuckin’ saps, said Jimmy Sr.

— The cork’s after breakin’ on me, said Bimbo.

— Shove it into the bottle.

The plates were full now, too full. Jimmy Sr took some of the chips off and pushed the fish further in, under the chips.

— There, he said. — Can yeh manage?

— No problem, said Bimbo. — I’ll have to come back for the wine.

— I’ll bring it as far as the door for yeh, said Jimmy Sr.

— Good man; thanks.

Jimmy Sr knew that Bimbo thought he meant O’Rourke’s front door but he was only going to go to the van door, for the laugh.

Bimbo wasn’t impressed when he got back.

— Very funny, he said.

— Ah, cop on, said Jimmy Sr.

They said nothing for a bit. Then—

— They’re havin’ a row inside, Bimbo told Jimmy Sr.

— Fuckin’ great, said Jimmy Sr. — What abou’?

— Couldn’t tell yeh, said Bimbo. — I just gave them their dinners an’ got ou’.

— Ah, you’re fuckin’ useless.

He handed the Blue Nun to Bimbo.

— Go back an’ find ou’ wha’ they’re rowin’ abou’.

— Who d‘yeh think you’re orderin’ around—?

Darren was back with the jelly and ice-cream.

— Hey, Darren; go in an’ see what Larry an’ Mona are rowin’ abou’.

— Go in yourself.

— Jesus, said Jimmy Sr. — What a staff; such a pair o’ fuckin’ wasters I’m lumbered with.

He turned to Bimbo and he was glaring at Jimmy Sr; he didn’t have time to change his face. It surprised Jimmy Sr.

Eh — are they in the front room or the kitchen or wha’?

— The kitchen, said Bimbo, back to normal.

— Fuck. We could’ve crept up under the window — Larry O’Rourke came charging out of the house, trying to get into his jacket. He didn’t slam the door.

— How was the cod, Larry? Jimmy Sr asked him.

— Fuck the fuckin’ cod, said Larry.

He headed down the road, in a Hikers direction.

— Your jelly an’ ice-cream, Larry!

— Fuck the jelly an’ the fuckin’ ice-cream, they heard.

He turned back to them.

— She can fuckin’ eat them! Her mouth’s fuckin’ big enough!

— Will yeh look who’s talkin‘! Bimbo said to Jimmy Sr and Darren. — Who’s goin’ to pay for the dinners?

— Eh — I suppose—

Bimbo looked down the road, then at the house.

— It was Mona phoned Maggie.

— Righ’, said Jimmy Sr.

He went up the path, and into the house, with the wine.

Bimbo and Darren waited for him.

Jimmy Sr came back out.

— She wants her jelly.

Darren handed him a bowl.

— Better give her the both o’ them, said Jimmy Sr. — She’s payin’ for them.

— Is she? said Bimbo.

— Fuckin’ sure she is.

He went back into the house. Darren and Bimbo got the gas canister back into the van and wiped the shelves. Bimbo mixed some more batter for later that night and Darren fished some loose bits of batter out of the oil in the fryer.

— Maybe she’s seducin’ him, said Darren.

— Ah no.

They were shutting the back door when Jimmy Sr came out.

— Wha’ kept yeh?

— I was havin’ a glass o’ wine with Mona.

— Is she alrigh’?

— She’s grand; not a bother on her.

He waved two tenners at them.

— How’s tha‘, he said. — An’ this as well.

He held out a pound coin for Bimbo.

— Your tip, he said. — She says thanks very much. Go on; take it. — D‘yis know wha’ the row was abou’? said Jimmy Sr when they were all in the van, heading home.

— Wha’?

— His pigeons shitein’ on her washin’, said Jimmy Sr.

— Ah, is that all?

— She’s not a bad-lookin’ bird, Mona, said Jimmy Sr. — If she tidied herself up a bit. Sure she’s not?

Bimbo and Darren didn’t say anything. Jimmy Sr wished he’d kept his stupid mouth shut. Darren was blushing beside him; he could nearly feel the heat off him, and he was blushing now himself was well. Bimbo had his mouth in a whistle but there was no noise coming out.