Roddy Doyle - The Snapper

The laughing died down and became fits of the giggles. They all blew their noses and wiped their eyes.

— Jesus though, Sharon, said Jackie, but she was grinning.

Sharon reddened again.

— I know, she said. — It’s terrible really.

Some questions had to be asked.

First an easy one.

— How long are yeh gone, Sharon? Yvonne asked her.

— Fourteen weeks.

They converted that into months.

— Jesus! Tha’ long? said Mary.

They looked at Sharon.

— You don’t look it, said Yvonne.

— I do, said Sharon.

— I won’t argue with you, said Yvonne. — You’re the expert.

They screamed.

— I’m only messin’, said Yvonne.

Sharon wiped her eyes.

— I know tha’.

— You look the same, said Mary.

— I’ll start gettin’ bigger in a few weeks.

— Well, said Jackie, — you can start hangin’ round with someone else when tha’ happens. No fellas’ll come near us if one of us is pregnant.

They laughed.

— Sharon, said Yvonne. — Who’re yeh havin’ it for?

Your fat da, thought Sharon.

— I can’t tell, she said. — Sorry.

She looked at her drink. She could feel herself going red again.

— Ah, Sharon!

She grinned and shook her head.

— Meany, said Jackie.

Sharon grinned.

— Give us a hint.

— No.

— Just a little one.

Nothing.

— Do we know him?

— No, said Sharon.

— Ah Sharon, go on. Tell us.

— No.

— We won’t tell annyone,

— Leave Sharon alone, said Jackie. — It’s none o’ your fuckin’ business. Is he married, Sharon?

— Oh Jesus! said Mary.

— No, said Sharon.

She laughed.

— You’re scarleh. He must be.

— He’s not. I swear. He’s not—

— Are yeh gettin’ married? Mary asked.

— No. I mean — I mean I don’t want to marry him.

— Are yeh sure we don’t know him?

— Yeah.

— Is he in here?

— Jesus, said Jackie. — If we don’t know him he isn’t here. An’ anyway, would you do it with annyone here?

— I was only fuckin’ askin’, said Yvonne.

She looked around. The lounge was fairly full.

— You’re righ’ though, she said. — It was a stupid question. Sorry for insultin’ yeh, Sharon.

— That’s okay.

— Serious though, Sharon, said Mary. — Do we really not know him?

— No. I swear to God.

— I believe yeh, thousands wouldn’t, said Yvonne.

— Where did yeh meet him?

— Ah look, said Sharon. — I don’t want to talk about it annymore; righ’?

— Let’s get pissed, will we? said Jackie.

— Ah yeah, said Sharon.

— Hey! Jackie roared at the lounge boy. — Get your body over here.

They laughed.

The lounge boy was sixteen and looked younger.

— Three vodkas an’ two Cokes an’ a gin an’ tonic, said Jackie. — Got tha’?

— Yeah, said the lounge boy.

— An’ a package o’ crisps, said Yvonne.

— Ah yeah, said Sharon. — Two packs.

— Do yeh have anny nuts? Mary asked him.

— Jesus, Mary, yeh dirty bitch yeh!

They screamed.

— I didn’t mean it tha’ way, said Mary.

The very red lounge boy backed off and headed for the bar.

Yvonne shouted after him.

— Come back soon, chicken.

— Leave him alone or he’ll never come back, said Jackie.

— Who’s goin’ to sub me till Thursday? said Yvonne.

— Me, said Sharon. — I will. A tenner?

— Lovely.

— He’ll be nice when he’s older, won’t he? said Mary.

— Who? The lounge boy?

Jackie looked over at him.

— He’s a bit miserable lookin’.

— He’s a nice little arse on him all the same, said Yvonne.

— Pity there’s a dickie bow under it, said Jackie.

They stopped looking at the lounge boy.

— Annyway, Sharon, said Jackie. — What’s it like? Are yeh pukin’ up in the mornin’s?

— No, said Sharon. — Well, yeah. Only a couple o’ times. It’s not tha’ bad.

— I’d hate tha’.

— Yeah. It’s bad enough havin’ to get up without knowin’ you’re goin’ to be vomitin’ your guts up as well.

— It’s not tha’ bad, said Sharon.

— Are you goin’ to give up work? Mary asked her.

— I don’t know, said Sharon. — I haven’t thought about it really. I might.

— It’s nice for some, said Yvonne. — Havin’ a job to think abou’ givin’ it up.

— Ah, stop whingin’, said Jackie.

— I wasn’t whingin’.

— Would you really like to be doin’ wha’ Sharon does, would yeh? Stackin’ shelves an’ tha’?

— No.

— Then fuck off an’ leave her alone.

— Are you havin’ your periods or somethin’?

— Yeah, I am actually. Wha’ about it?

— You’re stainin’ the carpet.

The row was over. They nearly got sick laughing. The lounge boy was coming back.

— Here’s your bit o’ fluff, Mary, said Sharon.

— Ah stop.

— Howyeh, Gorgeous, said Jackie. — Did yeh make your holy communion yet?

The lounge boy tried to get everything off the tray all at once so he could get the fuck out of that corner.

He said nothing.

— Wha’ size do yeh take? Yvonne asked him.

The lounge boy legged it. He left too much change on the table and a puddle where he’d spilt the Coke. Mary threw a beer-mat on top of it.

— Jesus, Sharon, said Jackie. — I thought you were goin’ to have a miscarriage there you were laughin’ so much.

— I couldn’t help it. — Wha’ size d’yeh take.

They started again.

— I meant his shirt, said Yvonne.

They giggled, and wiped their eyes and noses and poured the Coke and tonic on top of the vodka and gin.

— Are yeh eatin’ annythin’ weirdy? Mary asked Sharon.

— No, said Sharon.

— Debbie ate coal, Jackie told them.

— Jesus!

— I wouldn’t eat fuckin’ coal, said Sharon.

— How d’you eat coal? Mary asked.

— I don’t know! said Jackie. — The dust, I suppose.

— My cousin, Miriam. Yeh know her, with the roundy glasses? She ate sardines an’ Mars Bars all squashed together.

— Yeuhh! Jesus!

— Jesus!

— That’s disgustin’.

— Was she pregnant? said Jackie.

— Of course she — Fuck off, you.

They all attacked their drinks.

— He won’t come back, said Jackie. — We’ll have to go up ourselves.

— Come here, Sharon, said Yvonne. — Was it Dessie Delaney?

— No!

— I was on’y askin’.

— Well, don’t, said Sharon. — I’m not tellin’, so fuck off.

— Was it Billy Delaney then?

Sharon grinned, and they laughed.

Sharon put her bag under her arm.

— Are yeh comin’, Jackie?

— The tylet?

— Yeah.

— Okay.

Jackie got her bag from under the table. They stood up. Sharon looked down at Yvonne and Mary.

— Me uterus is pressin’ into me bladder, she told them.

— Oh Jesus!

They roared.

* * *

— Annyway, said Bimbo. — I gave him his fiver an’ I said, Now shag off an’ leave me alone.

— A fiver! said Paddy. — I know wha’ I’d’ve given the cunt.

— I owed him it but.

— So wha’? said Paddy. — Tha’ doesn’t mean he can come up to yeh outside o’ mass when you’re with your mot an’ your kids an’ ask yeh for it.

— The kids weren’t with us. Just Maggie an’ her mother.

— Jimmy!

— Wha’? said Jimmy Sr from the bar.

— Stick on another one, said Paddy. — Bertie’s here.

Bertie saluted those looking his way and then sat down at the table with Paddy and Bimbo.