The Butcher Boy

  And in her pocket these words he found

  Oh make my grave large wide and deep

  Put a marble stone at my head and feet

  And in the middle a turtle dove

  That the world may know I died for love.

  It was a good song but I didn’t know what was going on in it. When it was over she says what do you think of that Francie – he went upstairs and the door he broke he found her hanging from a rope! He wasn’t so smart then the butcher boy was he. She starts telling me all about it but I didn’t want to hear any more. Then whiz away she goes out to the scullery singing some other song oh no she says them days are over that’s all in the past. There’s no one will let Annie Brady down again Francie!

  She’d leave the record off for a while then she’d go in and put it on again. Anytime you’d come in, from school or anything, it would be on. And ma singing away out in the scullery.

  After all this her new name should have been Ma Whiz. One minute she’d say I see Mrs Connolly has a lovely new coat then before you had time to answer she said are they turning off the town water or something about the hospital when I was born. Then off she’d go again rolling pastry and stacking butterfly buns on tray after tray.

  The house was full of cakes.

  Full of cakes for Uncle Alo, I said.

  That’s right she says, Alo loves cakes. If that’s one thing your Uncle loves its cake.

  And butterfly buns, I said.

  You’re right, she said, I’ll make some more.

  It got so bad you nearly had to tunnel your way into the house with all the cakes. A few times I knew da was about to say: Stop singing that cursed song! But he didn’t in case whiz she’d be off to the garage again. He just went off to the Tower instead and didn’t come back till after closing time.

  I saw Philip Nugent on his way to music with his crocodile-skin music case. He stopped outside the home bakery and waited there for a minute. Then she came out and I saw her looking towards me. She handed Philip a white cardboard box the kind they used for the cakes. She was handing it to him real slow. Poor old Nugent – she really thought I cared about her and her cake. I had to laugh. Us with enough cakes to feed an army!

  It seemed like years and years ago I had cared about anything to do with Nugent. I didn’t even bother going near them. I just turned on my heel and off I went, still laughing. Mrs Nugent would have a long wait before she ever caught me worrying about the likes of her again.

  Ten men under him, I said to Joe.

  Joe whistled and sent a flat stone skimming down the river.

  Ten, he said, ten whole men. That’s hard to beat Francie.

  There’s going to be some party in our house that night Joe, says I.

  The Alo party says Joe.

  The party to end them all, I said.

  Whee-hoo! cried Joe and a big shower of spiky sunlight arrows coming through the gaps in the trees when you chinked your eyes.

  The nights before Alo came I didn’t sleep a wink thinking about him. We’d be coming down the street and there’d be Nugent. She’d be mad for us to talk to her. Who’s that woman Alo would say to me in his English accent, she keeps looking over. I don’t know, I’d say, I never seen her before in my life. Then we’d walk on until she was a speck standing in Fermanagh Street. Then it started all over again with me and Alo on the Diamond getting ready to set off once more down the street and Mrs Nugent trying to attract our attention. Please Francie, I’ll give you anything she’d say. Sorry I’d say, too late. Then I’d cut her off and say: What was that you were saying Uncle Alo?

  The town was quiet after the bars closed. All you could hear was Grouse Armstrong howling away.

  You know what he’s saying when he does that says Joe.

  No, I says, what.

  How the fuck do I know I don’t know dog language says Joe.

  I COULD hear voices. There was someone outside the hide. It was Buttsy from the mountains. Mrs Nugent was his sister. He was in a bad way poor old Buttsy. He looked like a priest on the cover of Africa magazine with his freckles and the carrot hair falling down over his eyes. Peepil please help me build my hospital. But all Buttsy cared about hospitals now was putting me into one. He kept shouting out: Brady! Then he’d light a fag and I could see his hand was shaking. Devlin kept saying to him: Don’t worry Buttsy we’ll find him he can’t have gone far. He had a pain in his head I could tell from the way he kept rubbing over his eye. Soon says Devlin, we’ll have him and we can do what we like with him. The whole town wants him to get what he deserves. If we get our hands on him before the police I know what we’ll do with him, we’ll drown him Buttsy what about that?, Devlin said. But Buttsy had more sense. He knew they were only wasting their time if they hadn’t found me by now they weren’t going to, them or the police. He just sat there by the river with his elbow on his knee and an inch of ash hanging from the fag. The bastard must have come out this way, Devlin said, poking about in the bushes with a stick. Hey Brady! he called again. It triple-echoed across the mountains. If you’re in them woods Brady you better come out. But it was no use so in the end they just went back towards the town.

  When they were gone I came out and stuck my face into the river. Hey fish I said are you there? Yoo-hoo!

  Come out you bastards!

  THE cakes were stacked in towers on the chairs. There were some on top of the wardrobe and the washing machine. There were ones with icing and without, all decorated with hundreds and thousands and marzipan and different kinds of designs. I had a hard job keeping all the flies away. I went at them with the rolled-up Irish Press. Back, dogs! I said. I had to make sure they didn’t manage to land on the icing at all because if they did you couldn’t hit them in case you’d break up the cake altogether. Would you like another slice of cake Francis? said ma from the scullery. I didn’t. I had already had eight. I went off up the town and anybody I met I told them about Alo. Then I came back down again: Any sign of him yet? Whiz away off again. It was the best time in the town for a long while. The breadman skipped into the shop with a tray of fresh loaves wrapped in holly paper. Children tossed pebbles and watched them ping off the fountain’s big white crocus of ice. Please give a little it could help a lot the radio said. When I got home ma was wearing white gloves of flour and rolling more pastry just in case we run out she said. Then the car pulled up outside and in they came, Mary from the sweetshop and everybody popping corks and dusting snow off collars. I couldn’t take my eyes off Alo. Sure enough he had the red hankie in his breast pocket and the trousers of his blue pinstripe suit had a crease would cut your hand. His steelgrey hair was neatly combed in two neat wings behind his ears. He stood proudly by the fireplace and I thought to myself Nugent? Hah! Nugent has nobody like him. I felt like cheering. Welcome to the cake house said ma, that’s what you call this place, wiping her hands on her apron. Call it what you like, home I call it smiled Alo and gave her a big hug. Da was late but the party started anyway. Here’s to Christmas and all in this room, he beamed and raised his whiskey glass.

  Now you said it Alo, they said, to the man himself, Alo Brady.

  Ah yes, says Alo, yes indeed and swirled the whiskey in his glass.

  Where does the time go, where does it go at all?

  Twenty years in Camden Town this Winter, would you believe it?

  You’ll never come back now Alo.

  Come back? What’d take him back, am I right Alo? He has it far too good over there.

  Ten men under him, called ma from the scullery.

  God bless all here said Alo and long may they prosper.

  I still couldn’t stop looking at him, the gold tiepin and his polished nails, the English voice. Nugent’s was only half-English. The more you thought it the harder it was to believe that Nugent had ever been anything worth talking about. Ah yes, he went on, I’ll never forget it. Euston Station, London town!

  A big spot Alo, you were a long way from the town then!

  Nothing only my coat and ca
se, what have I let myself in for I said.

  The streets of Piccadilly, Alo!

  Now you said it. Spent the night in the YMCA. Don’t talk to me!

  All corners of the earth, he says!

  Now you said it!

  Well would you credit that!

  Boys oh boys.

  Twenty years to the day, he says!

  Well you’re here now so here’s to your health and all in this room!

  Cheers they said and I heard the front door click closed and then da was there they hardly noticed him at all. His eyes were small like ball bearings he just moved along the edges getting drink and saying nothing. Then they said there you are Benny and started back into the old days.

  Oh if only Pete was here now.

  One of the best characters in the town poor Pete.

  Music? There wasn’t a song he didn’t know.

  Don’t sit under the apple tree with anyone else hut me!

  That was his!

  To go so early, who’d have thought it?

  The Good Lord, he does his harvesting and he forgets no one!

  Bing! Could he sing Bing! Dear Hearts and Gentle People!

  No better man to sing it!

  Please God he’s happy where he is now!

  Alo’s eyes were brightly lit what about a song he says and off we went to the sitting room. He angled his elbow on the piano and when they sang White Christmas you could hear him above everybody else as he put his whole heart into it. You could see the veins in his forehead as he strained for the high notes. When the song was over they lapsed into silence and their eyes glazed over.

  Mary, they said, you never played better.

  Oh now, says Mary, I haven’t played in years.

  Since Alo went away, they laughed.

  Go easy on the girl or she’ll play none!

  Alo sang Tyrone Among the Bushes. Sweat spread a dark stain on his back. He raised his glass and took a bow.

  You never lost it Alo, they cried, Tyrone Among the Bushes you’ll not top that!

  Who’s next for shaving!

  Then there were recitations, Dangerous Dan McGrew and Sam McGee mush mush in the Arctic snow.

  By God it’s better than a play!

  Now who, I ask you, needs the West End after that! Am I right Alo?

  Now you’re talking! laughed Alo.

  Ma arrived with a silver teapot and on the plate a castle of butterfly buns with its turrets ready to topple.

  Who’s for a few buns she said or maybe you’d like some cake? I’ll go and get some. I have plenty of slices cut.

  No this is grand we’re well fed here sit down and rest yourself never mind us!

  We’re an awful crowd!

  Alo stood behind Mary with his hands placed on her shoulders and sang When you were sweet sixteen.

  The clapping went on for over a minute and she didn’t know where to look.

  You shouldn’t she said.

  Alo’s face was red as a beetroot and his eyes were wild. He laughed and then went down on his hunkers, half-crouched and ready to leap an abyss. I could see him checking all the faces in the room and then when he was satisfied that everything was all right he let out a kind of a growl and out of nowhere grips her by the arm. It took her completely by surprise and she nearly fell off her stool.

  And why shouldn’t I me darling?

  He fell into her lap and his legs swung out and up into the air.

  Ma squealed and everybody cheered.

  We may get the priest! they cried.

  Just for a split second I thought Mary was going to throw her arms around Alo and burst into tears. She kept biting her nail and her lip was trembling just like a kid when it falls and everybody’s asking are you all right are you all right?

  But she didn’t burst into any tears. When the laughter had died away, Alo struggled to right himself with one hand and straighten his tie with the other. As he got up his fingers lightly brushed against her cheek and she bent her head. Then someone went to say something but didn’t say it. After that there was silence but Alo didn’t want silence. He rushed over and poured himself a fresh drink. He called for another song.

  What about the Inspector of Drains from the County Leitrim? The man himself – Percy French!

  Mary hunched herself up over the keyboard so that no one would see her hands were shaking. The flies were at the cakes again and there were crumbs all over the floor where Alo’s elbow had knocked a plate. But no one even noticed. There was a spot of butterfly bun cream on the triangle top of his red hankie. It was well past two and everybody was singing different songs. Would you look at the time someone said and a long low whistle glided across the room.

  We’ll never make Mass in the morning.

  Time we were moving so, they said.

  You’ll stay another while, please! said Alo.

  There’ll be more nights, they said, man dear but it was great to see you Alo!

  Let me, said ma, and went to the hall for their coats.

  Well there you are, said da, standing in the doorway and smoothing his hair back from his forehead with the edge of his hand.

  Now we’re right, they said, or right as we’ll ever be!

  Alo shook hands and said goodbye. He didn’t want to let go their hands when they made to go off to the car he was still holding on. They called from the car Please God it won’t be so long the next time!

  Mary tried to look away but a magnet pulled her eyes back until they met Alo’s. He reached out to touch her on the shoulder then retracted it again like a shoplifter losing his nerve at the last minute. He didn’t know what to do then so he just stood there. He was standing almost on his tiptoes. If it had been earlier they all might have whistled or hummed to get rid of the silence. Now all they did was jingle coins and fasten overcoat buttons, they couldn’t think of anything else to do. Mary’s lips parted to speak. I knew what she was going to say. She was going to say it was lovely to see you but that was exactly what Alo said and the sentences collided in mid-air. Mary tried to start again. So did Alo. Then Alo went pale and leaned forward. He kissed her softly on the hair and when she looked again he was gone. He was back inside with the whiskey bottle. Da muttered something under his breath I don’t know what and the ball bearing eyes were cold steel in his head. The chickenhouse fan was droning away, the hens as happy as Larry inside their warm woodchip world of burbling beaks and swooshing seed. It was like they were saying: Well we’re all right. You won’t find us worrying! We’re too busy burbling and waiting for our dinner!

  Mary was already in the car I don’t know whether she was crying or what all I could see was these blurred faces leaning over to her in the back seat.

  Things get to her, said da, her time of life its not easy for a woman, you’d think he’d have more wit a man of his age.

  He said it under his breath but I knew he was talking about Alo. Ma said nothing, pretended she didn’t hear it but she must have because he was looking right at her when he said it.

  The engine chugged into life. The car took the corner by the ash pit out onto the main road, and everything settled back into silent white.

  Da just stood there like he was in some kind of a trance. He kept flicking his thumb against his forefinger. I wanted to say to him stop it, quit doing that. That was the best night ever, I said.

  Its time you were in your bed, he said.

  Inside Alo had opened another bottle of whiskey . He hesitated staring at the silver curls of the torn label in the palm of his hand. Da said I could sleep on the sofa so I lay there with my eyes closed but there was too much going on to sleep, it was like a firework display of all the things they had been saying. Shadows ate up the room. One last song, said Alo, and a nightcap to wind it up, what do you say Benny?

  No more singing. There’s been plenty of singing.

  Ah now Benny, laughed Alo, don’t be like that. A wee bit of singing never hurt anyone, am I right Mrs?

  He started into The Old Bog Road,
he said that was the one the priest had taught them in the home all those years ago. I knew as soon as he had said the word home that he regretted it. When you said it even when you weren’t talking about orphanages, da went pale sometimes he even got up and left the room. Alo tried to cover it up by saying Will you ever forget the time we robbed the presbytery orchard?

  He laughed, Then he laughed again. But it was all wrong. It was like the moment before a cracked glass shatters. When da didn’t answer, he just kept on asking all sorts of questions.

  He told more stories then more singing. He was singing at the top of his voice. It was the silence around da that made me ice all over. Then ma wept. He paid no heed to that either, just sat there behind a glass wall of silence. Alo had his back to the fireplace like he had when he came in first. He kept waiting for da to speak. He wanted him to speak more than anything in the world. But da would only speak when he was ready. Then I saw him look at Alo. I knew the look. He wouldn’t take his eyes off him now until he had finished with him. I saw him do it to ma. They could pierce you them eyes good as any blade. Then he said it. Who do you think you’re fooling Alo? Are you going to go on making a laughing stock of yourself or are you going to catch yourself on? Do you think any of them believe that shite-talk you’ve been going on with all night?

  For the love of God Benny leave the man alone, cried ma.

  Coming home here crowing about Camden Town, do you want to have us the laughing stock of the place?

  Look at him with his wee red handkerchief. Did the wife iron it for you?

  Not again ma cried not again please Benny!

  I warned him! I told him I wanted to hear no more of it! But no, we had to have it, then on top of that carrying on with her like a schoolboy halfwit. The whole town knows that too, made a cod of himself with her. Never even had the guts to ask her out straight till it was too late. Oh Camden Town’s a great place Alo, we all know that. Camden Town’s the place he met the only woman he ever laid a finger on. Took her to the altar because he was afraid to ask anyone else. Twenty years his senior for the love of God. Half-blind and hates him from the day she married him!