Chapter 2
The black-robed Franciscan closes his breviary, takes
the child from his mother, holds the louse-shaped boat of his body over the
font.
- Daniel, Michael, Joseph, Brendan,
Dermot, Barnaby, Ezekiel, Ulysses, Zephaniah, Ephraim, McArthur ……… I baptize you in the name of …………..…
Jim - I want my boy to be …
- the Father …
Fiona - ………...... the greatest thing
since sliced bread, President of Ireland, doctor in America, house, job, car,
wife, kids ……….…….
- …….… Son,
- and a bloody great mortgage!!!
- Amen!
Daniel McArthur slips out in the
little window of time, between the flight from the family in
She stands at the window of their terraced cottage in
Cove looking out at the dull grey sea.
- Love, love me do! You know I love
you!!!
The music from the bakelite fades
from her ears.
The old church yard on the hill where Julia lies
buried in the cold wet earth, the wild wet wind blowing in from the ocean in
the pitch black night. The wild white heads of the bog cotton fluttering and
dancing in the breeze.
Sheep foraging in the grass,
clambering over the dry-stone walls, nuzzling between rocks, exposing the dry
crumbling mortar, hawthorns growing between the cracks, graveyard dotted with
trees, beech, birch, rowan, oak. No headstone records:
In loving memory of Matthew and
Julia McCormack.
May they find Eternal Rest in their
Father’s Heavenly Mansions.
The rambling red-brick farmhouse, ivy on the walls.
Candle-lit room where she lies in fever contracted in the damp foul weather,
damp in the bricks and bones. Throwing back the bed clothes, labouring the breath.
- The heat, Matt, please!! I can’t
stand it! Please, Matt, do something!!
Jammed into the room with the
others, she watches Matthew hold her mother’s hand. Fever rattling in her
throat, she throws up on her chest, throws off the bedclothes, struggles out of
bed. He fights her back, she lies exhausted, stretched out on the bed, jerks
upright, leans over, throws up into the bucket by the bedside.
Hears her screams echo round the house in the early
hours.
-
Jesus, Mary and Holy Saint Joseph, send for the doctor!
She’s in fever now, brief moments of
clarity. Sees the shadows of the clouds move across the wall.
-
It’s time for
you to move on, Julia, time! Time to move on! Tempis Eegit.
She heaves herself onto her
elbows.
- The priest, she gasps.
They light the lamp by her bedside,
throwing a soft golden sheen over the room. The priest emerges from the foul
black night, raises the crucifix over her.
- May the Lord in his mercy and love
help you with the grace of his spirit.
They bow their heads, words
enfolding them in grace. He looks down at her small crumpled body. Her eyes look
back at him from her brown sunken face - fiery, alive, wide-open.
- Bless me father, for I have sinned
……………
He leans over, hears her confession,
holds the cross to her lips. She kisses it, falls back on the pillow. He holds
the spoon to her mouth. It remains clear. He turns, nods to them, shakes his
head.
- Yeay, though I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for the Lord is with
me.
- No, Fiona says, Noooo!
She is snapped back to the present,
standing in front of the sink, looking out through the net curtains at the
harsh gunboat grey of the dark unforgiving sea.
They sit in the front room of their cottage, listening
to the crash of waves on the harbour wall.
Of course, it’s not easy for her,
crying over spilt milk in their small flat in Cove. Jim hard at work on the
island, re-planting native wild-flower species.
- Why did we come here for?! I
should have stayed with my sister in
- Ah, now, Missus McArthur, you’ll
be alright, what’s wrong with you?! A great big bouncing boy like that!!
She scowls at the nurse beside her watching
her hold the child, shift him from one enormous breast to the other.
Ruby Dawn McKenzie? What sort of
name is that?
- It’s a good job your mother-in-law
asked me to come.
Look at what I do for you, Jim! Get
you a great big nurse, with the great big bobbies for Danny to feed on. I’m not
having my grandson starve ‘cos that tart can’t feed him! You’ll have to come
back to me now!
Who nourishes you? Who feeds you?!!!
I do! I do! My son, my only son!!! You’ll have to look after me now!! Can’t
leave me alone here with him!!! All he ever does is watch TV!! Can’t leave me
alone here with him!!
Big bright eyes! Looking out at the
world, milk-contented, absorbing everything, big black bouncing baby on his
back, will o’ the wisp, baldy, oogle-googling, saucer-eyes, looking up at the
big, slurping on the twin bright moons of Ruby’s greatness, grateful for her
brown-eyed dugs, the huge-mooned crescents of her tits, her purple-lorded flesh
statements, multifarious as the stars of heaven hung with rosy-cheeked
fingertips of flesh-fruit.
- What am I doing here? It’s not
supposed to be like this!
Throw your script away, Fiona, it’s
life on life’s terms!!
- Now, look here, Missus Mac, don’t
fret, Ruby says, you’ve got me here to look after you! You just tell your old
pal Ruby all about it!!!
- You shut your mouth, you tart! I’m
not telling you a fucking thing, you slapper! Forget it!!
- There’s no need to talk like that,
missus, I’m only trying to help!
Ruby red-cheeked, mock-offended,
bristolling.
- Keep your beak out, you bitch! I
know all about you! Don’t breathe a word to that fat ould bitch up in
Danny oogle-googles. Forces the
breast into his mouth. A fat white smear of milk runs down his cheek.
- Gogopgogoohoogghpohgoyemi!
- Chcchchchhhahhahhehheyahhahahahhhghcgioihih!
Burp!
Gomorrokotcha!
Love your big fat juicy bouncies,
force my face right into your huge big monstrosso-tissitties, hummano-mundo-gonerous,
titter-withers of Wicktoria!! Milk-curdling fat brown lactating milk-titties,
heaven-bright, firm-busting ornaments! Give them to me!! Let me lie right under
the twin spheres of your huge big milk-bursting heavens, right over my face,
can’t get enough of your huge fat Wittgen titter-witters, huge big fat white
milk big fat lactating milk-titties, give them to me!! I want to be them, let
me be them, always!!!
Fiona glares at the nurse.
- Enough, you tart!! Trying to steal
my son away from me! I won’t have it, do you hear me?! Won’t have it!!
Drags the screaming child away from
the breast.
- Arauk!!!!! Offff aruak!
- Give me your milk, Mammy, your
milk, Mammy, your Myyuummmmmy ocean!!!
- Enough, Danny, enough! Stop it!! So
sore! You’re hurting me!! So sore, so
painful, no-one to talk to all day, nobody told me it’d be like this.
Ro-ro roshie boat,
Gently down the sssssshteream,
Merrily merrily merrily mrerrily,
Life is shust a shteream.
- Your milk white booties! Pour them
all over me! My head between your huge big Adolf Fiddlers, fill yer
buttes!!
- Enough, Danny, enough, I say!
Oooooeeeerr missus!
- How dare you lead my son astray!
You Trollop! Tart! Left-footer! Backslider!! Pushing your tits in my son’s
face! How dare you!!
Slaps her face.
Bish – bosh, no more dosh!
- Bitch! Tart!
Want to be with my sister in
- Did what?!!!
He shouts into the receiver.
- Sold the house from under us with
the big fat garden out the back for Danny to play in! The bitch!
He slams down the phone, turns to
Fiona.
- I can’t believe it! She’s sold it!
The house we were going to move in to when we returned to
You’ll have to come back to me now,
Jim, can’t stay down there forever. Where are you going to live now, Jim? What
are you going to do now? You can’t stay down there forever! All alone in that
pokey old flat! With no friends!
What do you think you’re doing,
ey?!! All your friends are up here! What do you mean by it, eh?! Eyah what do
ymea n btmtgoeotvbethdanny?! O, you do launch ’em, Jim, ey?! You do launch
’em!!!
You poor misguided boy! Your life’s
here with us, Jimbo! What do you think you’re doing? Moving there without my
permission? Who do you think you are? You don’t know anyone down there! How far
do you think you’re going to get if you don’t know anyone, eh? It’s all about contacts, Jim, contacts, it’s
not what you know it’s who you know. You scratch my back I’ll scratch yours, I
scratch your back, you scratch mine! Yeah what do you think it’s all about,
eh?! Of course you know that, Jim, of course you do, you silly boy!
Bitch, what am I going to do
now?
Josephine Francine Leopoldina McCarthy sails into
their cramped flat, one bright morning, lowering herself into the one good
chair in the room.
- So what are you going to do now?
She says, idly picking the stuffing from a gash in the chair arm.
Jim looks to Fiona for support.
- We haven’t discussed it yet.
- Haven’t discussed it? What’s to
discuss? You pack up your stuff, forget about us, and hightail it back to
- You seemed to favour it at the
time, Jim says.
She lowers her head, stares at him
over her glasses.
Don’t fuck with me, sonny boy.
- The baby’s born, you return to
- And where are we going to live if
we do move back?!
He glares at her, reminded of the
lost house.
- Don’t you worry about that, my
son, let me worry about that, that’s my business.
- Your mother will sort that out!
Bert chimes in.
Jim looks at Fiona bleakly.
She looks away.
You can’t tell him you’re not happy,
Fiona! Not after all he’s done for you. You’ve made your bed, now lie on
it!
- I’m not happy here either, Jim, I
want to be with my sister.
She blurts.
- Your sister, oh ho!
Josie pounces.
- There you go, Jim, see!! Even your
wife wants to go back! Good girl, Fiona!
You’ve got to come back to us
now.
- It’s about time you talked some
sense, girl.
Fiona glares at her.
- I thought you liked it here.
Jim appeals to his wife, lost for
words.
- Oh, Jim, I do, I don’t …….. I
don’t know! I want to go back, Jim, I want to go back!
He won’t understand unless you tell
him.
I can’t tell him! Not after all I’ve
been through! You, lost, family torn apart! Why should I tell him?! That’s my
business!! I’m frightened, scared, I don’t know what to do! I need time! Time
to think!
- Well, that’s it then, settled
then!
Bert pipes up from the sofa.
- You’re coming back! Now they’ve
got this great race on tv …….……
- What do you mean ‘go back?!’ Jim
says, ignoring him, I thought you liked it here. I thought we agreed. It’s a
good place to bring up kids.
- Well, obviously you hadn’t.
Josie chips in.
- I thought you liked it here?
He turns to his wife in despair.
Support him, for Christ's sake!
- We’ve got plenty of sea air back
home, come on now, Jim, your wife’s right …...…
- Don’t go upsetting your mother
now, Bert warns.
He stands in the middle of the room,
dumbstruck. Gazes out the window at the sea. Hears the sound of the waves
crashing against the harbour wall. The staccato patter of the rain upon the
glass. Then he is out upon the water. In tarpaulins on the trawler deck,
battling against the waves. He tastes the sea salt on his tongue, hears the
shouts of his comrades lost in the tumultuous uproar of the waves.
- Bring the babbie over here, Fiona.
Josie says.
Snaps him back to the room.
He watches his wife take his son
from the cot, carry it across to his mother. The women sit side by side on the
settee, taking it in turns to hold the baby.
Albert turns up the volume on the
telly, takes out his pipe, knocks the contents into the ashtray, refills it,
lights it, settles back into the settee.
-
And what’s your
name, babbie?
Josie bounces the child up and down
upon her knee.
- What’s your name, little babbie?
Beautiful little babbie!
- Google ooogle doogle ooogle
dooooooo!!!!
- What’s your name, babbie? The
beautiful little babbie, Daniel, Michael, Francis, Joseph, ………
- There’ll be no more talk of
- I won’t hear another word about
it! We’ll return to
He turns to the slender doe-eyed woman by his side in
the bed, pulls away the strand of hair that has fallen over her cheek, whispers
into her ear.
- Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t
happy, Fiona? We could have worked something out.
He leans over her, observes the rise
and fall of her breast under the thin veil of her night dress.
She sleeps.
She is out upon the ocean with her
secret dark-haired lover.
He falls back onto his pillow,
stares out into space. His eyes follow the crack in the ceiling above him. He
listens to the sound of his son’s breathing in the cot by the door, keeping
time with the ocean’s breath, rising and falling outside their cottage
walls.
He stands in the street by his car, securing their belongings
to the rack. They pull away from the kerb, the old couple next door wave them
off. Fiona clutches Danny to her breast in the front seat, Jim stares ahead,
oblivious to the viper by his side.
They stop at the
“…. and that was the fabulous
Beatles! And now, ladies and gentlemen, by way of a treat, a catchy tune from
our own shores, ………..………, and, and, ….. , Oh - no! Oh – no! Oh my – God! Ladies
- and – gentlemen, I – can’t …… do – not - believe, ……… the President has been
shot, ladies and gentlemen, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the President of the
United States of America, has been shot dead in Dallas, Texas, ladies and
gentlemen, it’s a terrible disaster, my friends, …………. a calamity, I don’t, can’t ……….……, complete
loss for words ………….. ”
- Oh my God, Jim!
She turns to her husband, wide-eyed.
They listen to the report in silence.
At the United Nations, the General Assembly was called
into session. The Secretary General, said simply that it was his solemn duty to
express for all of them "the most profound sorrow at this tragic event, to
convey our condolences to the family, the Government and to the people of the