Roddy Doyle - The Snapper

— Yeah.

— Unless your Spanish sailor looked a bit like him, did he?

— Just a little bit.

— Ah well, said Jimmy Sr after a small while. — Your poor mammy. I’d better go down an’ see if your man’s still spinnin’ the discs in the sink. — Good girl, Sharon.

— See yeh in a minute. I’ll just put me stuff back.

— Good girl.

He was gone, but he came back immediately.

— Eh, sorry; Sharon?

— Yeah?

— Don’t tell Jimmy yeh saw me cryin’ there, sure yeh won’t?

— Don’t worry.

— Good girl.

He grinned.

— He looks up to me, yeh know.

* * *

— Ah, said Jimmy Sr to the twins. — There yis are. An’ there’s Larry with yis.

He bent down and patted the dog’s head.

— He’s growin’, he said. — He’ll soon be makin’ his communion. Yis must be thirsty after your camogie, are yis?

— Yeah, said Linda and Tracy.

— Yes! said Veronica.

— Yes, said Linda.

— There, said Jimmy Sr.

It was a pound.

— Get yourselves some 7 Ups. Or the one tha’ Tina Turner drinks. Pepsi.

— What about me?

— A Toblerone?

— And a Flake.

Jimmy Sr’s hand went back into his pocket.

— Can we have a Flake instead of the 7 Up? said Tracy.

— No! — Oh, alrigh’.

The twins legged it.

Jimmy Sr smiled over at Veronica.

— Are yeh well, Veronica?

— I’m alright, said Veronica.

— Good, said Jimmy Sr. — Good.

* * *

It was a few weeks later.

Jimmy Sr dropped the book onto the couch. He was the only one in the front room.

— Wha’ in the name o’ Jaysis was tha’? he said out loud to himself although he knew what it was.

Veronica had just screamed. What Jimmy Sr really wanted to know was, why? He struggled out of the couch. It hadn’t sounded like a scream of pain or shock. It’d been more of a roar.

— No peace in this fuckin’ house, he sort of muttered as he went down to the kitchen.

Tracy and Linda were in there with Veronica.

— What’s goin’ on here? said Jimmy Sr.

He saw the way Veronica was glaring at the twins and the twins were trying to glare back, keeping the table between themselves and their mother. They looked at Jimmy Sr quickly, then back at Veronica in case she did something while they were looking at Jimmy Sr.

— What’s wrong? said Jimmy Sr.

Veronica picked up the dress from her lap and clutched it in front of her, nearly hard enough to tear it.

— Are you after upsettin’ your mammy? said Jimmy Sr.

— No, said Linda.

— No, said Tracy.

Jimmy Sr was going to shout at them.

— We on’y told her somethin’, said Linda. — Tracy said it.

— You did as well! said Tracy.

— Shut up! Jimmy Sr roared.

They jumped. They didn’t know where to move. If they got away from their daddy that would mean getting closer to their mammy and she had the scissors on the table in front of her.

Veronica spoke.

— All those — fuckin’ sequins, she said, softly. — Oh my sweet Jesus.

Jimmy Sr could have murdered Linda and Tracy. They saw this, so they both answered promptly when he asked them what they’d said to their mother.

— Tracy said—

— Linda said I was—

— Shut up!

Tracy started crying.

Jimmy Sr pointed at Linda.

— Tell me.

— Tracy said—

Jimmy Sr’s pointed finger seemed to get closer to her although he didn’t move. She started again.

— We on’y told her we weren’t doin’ the dancin’ annymore.

— Oh good fuck, said Jimmy Sr, not loudly.

He looked at Veronica. She was staring at a little pile of sequins in front of her.

— Yis ungrateful little brassers, he said.

— It’s stupid, said Linda. — I’m sick of it. It’s stupid.

Veronica came back to life.

— They’re not giving it up, she said.

— That’s righ’.

— Ah Mammy—

— No! said Veronica.

— But it’s stupid.

— You heard your mammy, didn’t yeh? said Jimmy Sr. — DIDN’T YEH?

— Yeah.

— An’ wha’ did she say?

–

— ANSWER ME.

— We have to keep doin’ it.

— That’s righ’, said Jimmy Sr. — An’, what’s more, yis’ll enjoy it. An’ if I hear anny whingin’ out o’ yis yis’ll need an operation to get my foot ou’ of your arses. — Now, say you’re sorry.

— Sorry.

— Not to me.

— Sorry.

— Now go inside an’ practise, said Jimmy Sr.

They got past Jimmy Sr without touching him. He heard Tracy when they’d got out of the kitchen.

— I don’t care, I’m not doin’ it.

Jimmy Sr rushed out and grabbed her and, without intending to, lifted her.

— Wha’ did you say?

— Aah! — Nothin’!

— Are yeh sure?

She was rubbing her arm and deciding whether to cry or not.

— Yeah, she said.

— Good, said Jimmy Sr. — Now get in there an’ cha cha cha.

Darren was coming in the back door when Jimmy Sr got back to the kitchen.

— Again? said Jimmy Sr.

— Yeah, said Darren.

He’d crashed again. One side of his face was grazed, the darkest, reddest scrape along his cheekbone.

— Look.

Darren showed them where his jersey was ripped.

— Look it.

He showed them the big, wide scrape down his leg. He was delighted.

Jimmy Sr remembered having a gash like that, only bigger, when he was a young fella. He was going to tell Darren about it but he decided not to, not with Veronica there.

— Wha’ happened yeh? he said instead. Sharon came in from work. — Hiyis.

— There’s Sharon. Do us a favour, love. Talk to the twins, will yeh. — They’re talkin’ abou’ wantin’ to give up the oul’ dancin’, yeh know?

He nodded at Veronica. Sharon looked at her.

— Okay, she said.

— Good girl. They’re in with the telly. Practisin’.

Sharon saw Darren.

— God, wha’ happened yeh?

— I came off me bike.

He smiled.

— Sharon’ll sort them ou’, Jimmy Sr told Veronica. — Are we havin’ the dinner?

Veronica put the dress on the table. She stood up and looked around her, as if she’d just woken up with a fright.

— It’ll have to be from the chipper, she said.

— Grand, said Jimmy Sr. — Darren can go an’ show off his war wounds, wha’.

Darren laughed.

— How’d it happen? Jimmy Sr asked him.

— I was blemmin’ down Tonlegee Road.

— Jaysis! Was it a race?

— Yeah, but I didn’t give up. I got on again an’ I finished it.

— Good man, said Jimmy Sr. — Course yeh did. Did yeh win?

— No. I was last but Mister Cantwell says I showed the righ’ spirit.

— He’s dead righ’.

He turned to Veronica.

— Just like his da, wha’.

He turned back to Darren.

— Did yeh know I met your mammy when I fell off me bike?

— Did yeh?

— He was drunk, said Veronica.

— It was love, said Jimmy Sr. — Love knocked me off me bike.

Darren spoke.

— Mister Cantwell says we’re not to bother with young ones cos they’ll only distract us.

Jimmy Sr laughed.

— Fair play to Mister Cantwell. He’s dead righ’.

— Cantwell. He’s your man from across from the shops, isn’t he?

— Yeah.

— He does the church collection.

— Yeah.

— Isn’t he great? said Veronica.

Jimmy Sr grinned at her.

— An’ he’s your manager, is he?

— Yeah.

— Good. What’re yis called?

— The Barrytown Cyclin’ Club.

— Go ’way! That’s very clever.