Roddy Doyle - The Snapper

— I’m pissed, d’yeh know tha’, said Sharon.

She patted the lodger.

— He’s playin’ fuckin’ tennis in there.

— He’s prob’ly eatin’ your chips, said Jackie.

— Yeuuh; stop.

Jackie remembered what she’d wanted to ask Sharon earlier but she’d been a bit afraid to. Now, with a few vodkas inside her, she was still afraid but it was easier.

— Come here, Sharon, she said. — Why didn’t yeh tell me earlier? Yeh know; abou’ your sailor.

— Aah. I don’t know—

Sharon couldn’t tell her the truth: because I only made it up a few days ago and you ARE the first person I told. Or the realler truth: because we’re not that close; or weren’t anyway.

— I just — I was too embarrassed. Sorry; I should’ve.

— No, it’s okay. I was only—

— Here, I’ll tell yeh the next time, righ’.

They screamed again, but quieter because people were in bed.

* * *

Jimmy Sr came in with a bloody nose. The blood was dry and there wasn’t much of it but it was there to be seen. He put a brown paper bag with grease marks down on the table.

Veronica took off her glasses and scooped up the loose sequins and poured them into a tobacco tin. She put the lid on the tin. Then she saw Jimmy Sr and his nose.

— Where in the name of God did you get that?

— Hang on till I have a look at it, said Jimmy Sr.

He pointed at the bag.

— I got yeh a burger as well.

— You didn’t go into the chipper with that nose!

— No; I got them from the van.

— You can eat them yourself then. Who hit you?

Jimmy Sr had the curtain pulled back and he was trying to get a good look at himself in the kitchen window. He was leaning over the sink.

— It doesn’t look too bad. From here annyway.

— Who hit you?

Veronica was eating the chips but she wasn’t going to go near the burger.

— Ah, I’ll live, said Jimmy Sr.

— More’s the pity, said Veronica. — Who hit you? I want to thank him.

— You would too. Are yeh not eatin’ tha’ burger?

The inspection was over. There was no real damage done. He hadn’t even got any of it on his shirt or his jacket. He’d wash his nose before he went to bed. He took a good bite out of the burger in case Veronica said, Yes, she was eating it.

— I’ll tell yeh one thing though, said Jimmy Sr. — I gave back better than I got.

— Aren’t you great?

— Tha’ soccer shower, said Jimmy Sr. — Yeh know the bunch o’ wankers tha’ hang — used to hang around with Georgie Burgess. They were laughin’, yeh know. The whole gang o’ them. They’ve been at it since — yeh know. The bollixes.

— How d’you know they were laughing at you, for God’s sake?

Jimmy Sr ignored the question. Bimbo had asked it already and he hadn’t answered it then either.

— I got Larry O’Rourke when he was up at the bar an’ I told him if, righ’, if they were laughin’ at me I’d fuckin’ kill them. Every—

Jimmy Sr liberated the rest of the burger.

— Every—’scuse me, Veronica — every jaysis one o’ them. He said they wouldn’t bother their bollixes — pardon, Veronica — bother laughin’ at me, an’ I said they’d better not. For their own sakes.

— You’re—

— An’—sorry — I gave him a bit of a dig — nothin’ much now — when he was tryin’ to get past me. Bimbo an’ Bertie got in between us. Just as well.

He wiped his fingers with the bag.

— I’d’ve destroyed him.

Veronica didn’t know what to say. And he was too old to be slapped.

Jimmy Sr continued.

— I’m not goin’ up there annymore. I don’t care. I only have to walk in an’ they’re—

He saw Veronica looking at him.

— I can’t enjoy me pint under those conditions.

Veronica was still looking at him.

— It’s fuckin’ desperate, so it is.

— God almighty, said Veronica.

Jimmy Sr sat down. He tried to explain again.

— If it was annyone else. I don’t care abou’ the age, annyone. But Georgie Burgess! Jesus.

— Oh, shut up. I’m sick of it. Why won’t you believe her?

— Oh, I do believe her. Only — I don’t know. I—

They heard the door. Sharon was coming in.

— Wash your nose, said Veronica.

— There’s no point.

— You want her to see it, don’t you?

— That’s offside, said Jimmy Sr.

It was true though.

He got up too late to be at the sink by the time Sharon came in.

— Hiyis.

— Look, Sharon, said Veronica. — Your father’s been defending your honour. Isn’t he great?

— What happened yeh, Daddy?

— Nothin’, Sharon, nothin’. Don’t listen to your mother. She’s been at the sherry bottle again, ha ha.

Jimmy Sr was at the sink again. He studied the J-cloth, threw it back and rooted in his pockets for a paper hankie. He turned on the cold tap.

— Were you in a fight? Sharon asked him.

— No, no. Not really.

— He was defending your honour, I told you, said Veronica.

— Shut up, Mammy, will yeh.

— Don’t—

— Shut up!

Veronica did. Sharon looked like she was going to kill Jimmy Sr and that was alright with Veronica.

Sharon was angry. Something unfair was going on.

— Wha’ did yeh do? she asked Jimmy Sr.

— Ah—

— Yeah?

— They were sayin’ things about yeh, Sharon, said Jimmy Sr.

His nose was clean now.

— You didn’t hear them, said Veronica.

— I know wha’ I heard, said Jimmy Sr. — I’m not goin’ to stand by an’ let annyone — annyone, I don’t care who, jeer Sharon.

— You’re a fuckin’ eejit, Daddy, said Sharon. — Why couldn’t yeh just ignore them?

— I’m not like tha’, said Jimmy Sr.

He was nearly crying.

— I’m not goin’ to let them jeer yeh.

He was liking himself now.

— Why not, for fuck sake?

Veronica tut-tutted.

Jimmy Sr thumped the table.

— Because you’re my daughter an’—well, fuck it, you’re my daughter an’ as long as yeh live in this house I’m not goin’ to let bollixes like them say things about yeh.

— Maybe I should leave then.

That hit like a thump.

— Ah no, Sharon.

— Maybe I will if you’re goin’ to get into fights all the time.

— No, Sharon, Jimmy Sr assured her. — It was just the once.

Something had gone wrong.

— I’m not goin’ there again.

That wasn’t the right thing to say, he realized. He changed it.

— I’m not goin’ to listen to them annymore. — They’re only a shower o’ shites. They’re not worth it.

He felt like a right fuckin’ eejit now. He couldn’t look at Veronica.

— Well—, said Sharon. — Look; I know you mean well—

— I know tha’, Sharon.

— I can fight my own fights, on my own.

— I know tha’.

— No better girl, said Veronica.

— Anyway, said Sharon. — They’ve nothin’ to jeer me about. Now tha’ they know I’m not havin’ the baby for Mister Burgess.

— You’re right o’ course.

Sharon went to bed.

All Jimmy Sr had wanted was value for his nosebleed. But something had gone wrong. A bit of gratitude was all he’d expected. He’d felt noble there for a while before Sharon started talking about leaving, even though he’d been lying. But she’d attacked him instead.

There was more to it than that though.

— She put you back in your box, didn’t she? said Veronica.

Veronica went to bed.

Jimmy Sr stayed there, sitting in the kitchen. He was busy admitting something: he was ashamed of Sharon. That was the problem. He was sorry for her troubles; he loved her, he was positive he did, but he was ashamed of her. Burgess! Even if there WAS a Spanish sailor — Burgess!—