Roddy Doyle - The Snapper

He was glad it was over. He preferred being nice. It was easier.

Sharon had been great there, the way she’d taken the blame. Fair play to her. She was a great young one; the way she’d just sat there and said her bit, and none of the fuckin’ water works that you usually got. Any husband of Sharon’s would have his work cut out for him.

Tomorrow he’d tell her not to leave.

* * *

He told her when she came down for her breakfast. Veronica was there too but she was determined not to have anything to do with it. She was sick of the two of them.

— No, Daddy, said Sharon. — Thanks, but I’ve made me mind up.

— But there’s no need, Sharon.

— No; you’ve been great. So have you, Mammy.

— I know.

— Hang on, Veronica; this is serious. You can’t go, Sharon. I won’t let yeh.

— Try fuckin’ stoppin’ me.

— Now there’s no need for tha’ now. We want yeh to stay here with us an’ have it—

He nodded and pointed.

— the baby there, with us. Don’t we?

Veronica didn’t look up from Tracy’s ballroom dress.

— Yes, she said.

Sharon stopped spreading the Flora on her brownbread.

— I’m goin’.

Jimmy Sr believed her.

— When?

— After dinner.

— Wha’!? Today?

— Yeah.

— Ah, for fuck sake, Sharon—

Jimmy Jr walked in. He wasn’t looking the best. He headed for the fridge.

— Why aren’t you in work? said Jimmy Sr.

— Wha’?

Jimmy Jr’s head came out of the fridge.

— It’s alrigh’. I’ll phone in. I’ll work me day off. Is there anny Coke?

— No.

— Or annythin’ with bubbles in it?

— Go down to the shops, said Veronica.

— I’d never make it.

He sat down carefully and stared at the table.

Sharon was cursing him. Now she’d have to start again.

— It’s the best thing to do, she said.

— What’s tha’? said Jimmy Sr. — No. Fuck it, Sharon; this is your home.

His voice didn’t sound right. It was shivery. He coughed.

— You should stay — stay with your family.

Sharon smiled.

— Now maybe. But, look it.

She patted her belly.

— It’s goin’ to be gettin’ bigger an’ yeh won’t be able to get out of its way an’ stop lookin’ at it. It’ll keep remindin’ you of Mister Burgess. No, it will; even though he’s not — So, yeh see, it’s best for us all if I go.

She stood up. She smiled. She patted his shoulder.

— I’ll go upstairs an’ pack.

Jimmy Sr was afraid to say anything. He didn’t know what it would sound like. He’d never felt like this before.

Sharon was planking going up the stairs. She hoped she hadn’t been too convincing. He mightn’t bother trying to stop her. She didn’t even have a suitcase or anything. She’d just pile her stuff on the bed.

Jimmy Sr didn’t know what to do. It was terrible. Sharon was leaving because of him. That wasn’t what he’d wanted at all.

It was wrong.

Jimmy Jr’s face distracted him.

— Jaysis, he said.

Jimmy Jr was still staring at the table. Veronica looked up from the dress.

— Get up, quick!

Jimmy Jr stood up and fell across to the sink. He dropped his head and vomited — HYUHH — uh — fuck — HYY-

— YUUH! — onto the breakfast plates and cups.

That was it, Jimmy Sr decided. There was no way Sharon could go. She was the only civilized human being in the whole fuckin’ house.

Veronica had her face in her hands. She shook her head slowly.

Jimmy Sr stood up.

— Veronica, he said. — She’s not goin’.

Veronica looked up at him. She still had her hands to her face but she nodded.

— An’ come here, you, he bawled across to Jimmy Jr. — Wash up them dishes, righ’.

Jimmy Jr groaned.

Sharon heard the stairs creaking. She threw a bundle of knickers onto the bed.

Jimmy Sr knocked, and came in.

— Are you alone?

— Yeah.

— Where’re the twins?

— Camogie, I think.

— They do everything don’t they?

— Yeah.

— Fair play to them. Don’t go, Sharon.

— I have to.

She stopped messing with the clothes.

— Yeh don’t have to—

Jimmy Sr looked across, out the window. His eyes were shiny. He kept blinking. He gulped, but the lump kept rising.

— I’m cryin’, Sharon, sorry. I didn’t mean to.

He pulled the sleeve of his jumper over his fist and wiped his eyes with it.

— Sorry, Sharon.

He looked at her. She looked as if she didn’t know how she should look, what expression she should have on.

— Em — I don’t know wha’ to fuckin’ say. — That’s the first time I cried since your granny died. Hang on; no. I didn’t cry then. I haven’t cried since I was a kid.

— You cried last Christmas.

— Sober, Sharon. Drunk doesn’t count. We all do stupid things when we’re drunk.

— I know.

— Fuck, sorry; I didn’t mean it like tha’!

He looked scared.

— I know tha’, said Sharon.

— Sorry. — Annyway, look — I’ve been a righ’ bollix,

Sharon. I’ve made you feel bad an’ that’s why you’re leavin’. Just cos I was feelin’ hard done by. It’s my fault. Don’t go, Sharon. Please.

Sharon was afraid to say no. She didn’t want to start him crying again.

— But I’ll only keep remindin’ yeh—

— Sorry, Sharon. For interruptin’ yeh. — This isn’t easy for me. I wanted to make you feel bad cos I was feelin’ sorry for myself. I can’t look at yeh, sayin’ this. It’s very fuckin’ embarrassin’.

He tried to grin but he couldn’t.

— I behaved like a bollix, I realize tha’ now. — I didn’t think you’d leave. Don’t leave. We need you here. Your mammy — Your mammy’s not always the best. Because of — Yeh know tha’ yourself. I’m a fuckin’ waster. Jimmy’s worse. D’yeh know what he’s at now?

— Wha’?

— He’s down there gettin’ sick into the sink. On top o’ the plates an’ stuff.

— Oh my God.

— Poor Veronica. — The fuckin’ dinner might be

— what’s the word — steepin’ in the sink for all I know. Believe me, Sharon, we need you. The twins, they need you.

Sharon was nearly crying now. She was loving this.

— What abou’ the baby?

Jimmy Sr breathed deeply and looked out the window, and looked at Sharon. His eyes were shiny again.

— I feel like a fuckin’ eejit. — I love you, Sharon. An’ it’ll be your baby, so I’ll love it as well.

— Wha’—what if it looks like Mister Burgess?

Jimmy Sr creased his forehead. Then he spoke.

— I don’t mind what it looks like. I don’t give a shite.

— It’s easy to say tha’ now—

— I don’t, Sharon, I swear I don’t. Not now, fuck it. I don’t mind. If the first words it says are On the Bible, Jim, on the Bible, I won’t mind. I’ll still love it.

Sharon was laughing.

— If it looks like Burgess’s arse I’ll love it, Sharon. On the Bible.

They were both laughing. They’d both won. Both sets of eyes were watery. Sharon spoke.

— What if it’s a girl an’ she looks like Mister Burgess?

— Ah well, fuck it; we’ll just have to smother it an’ leave it on his step.

— Ah Daddy!

— I’m only messin’. I suppose I’ll still have to love her. Even if she does have a head on her like Georgie Bur—

He couldn’t finish. He had an almighty fit of the giggles.

— She’ll be lovely, said Sharon.

— She’d fuckin’ better be. We’re a good lookin’ family. ’Cept for Jimmy, wha’. An’, come here, an’ anyway; it won’t look like Burgess cos he isn’t the da. — Isn’t tha’ righ’?