‘Better to have no parents than a father who’s been in the fucking jail.’ Catherine’s voice cut through the laughter of the boys, and Patrick turned a dangerous look in her direction.
‘You shut your mouth ya wee shite.’ He took a step towards her and I moved smartly between them.
‘And you watch yours, Kelly.’
Patrick Kelly’s pale green eyes met mine. He had ginger hair and a face the colour of porridge. It was spattered with freckles. He was an ugly boy. I could see the calculation in his gaze. He was a big lad, but so was I. ‘What’s it to you?’
‘I’m a bit sensitive to bad language.’
There was some laughter, and the eldest Kelly boy didn’t like that. He glared at his brothers. ‘Shut the fuck up.’ Then he turned back to me. ‘So they let kids at The Dean get tattoos if they want, do they?’ he said. And when I didn’t reply, he grinned. ‘Why do I get the feeling that Daftie’ll be in deep shit if they ever find out?’
‘Why would they ever find out?’
‘Someone might tell them.’ Patrick Kelly smiled disingenuously.
‘Like who?’
His smile vanished and he leaned his face into mine. ‘Like me.’
I stood my ground, flinching only from the stink of decaying teeth that he breathed in my face. ‘Only cowards tell tales.’
‘Are you calling me a fucking coward?’
‘I’m not calling you anything. Cowards reveal themselves by their own actions.’
The anger and humiliation of someone showing themselves to be smarter than him combined to make him brave. He stabbed my chest with his finger. ‘We’ll see who’s a fucking coward.’ He nodded his head towards the road bridge that soared overhead, connecting the city to the western suburbs. Thomas Telford’s second-last, I would learn much later in life. ‘There’s a ledge runs along the outside of the bridge, just below the parapet. It’s about nine inches wide. Up there tonight. Midnight. You and me. We’ll see who can walk it.’
I glanced up at the bridge. Even from here I could see the snow crusted along the length of the ledge. ‘No way.’
‘Scared, are you?’
‘He’s a fucking coward,’ said one of the younger brothers.
‘I’m not stupid,’ I said.
‘Shame about your brother, then, eh? Guess they might even kick him out. Put him in a hostel. A load of shit like that on his arm. Guess you wouldn’t be too happy about being separated.’
It was a real possibility. I felt the net of inevitability closing around me. ‘And if I do it?’
‘Elvis’ll be our secret. Unless, of course, you chicken out halfway. In which case I’ll tell.’
‘And you’re going to do this walk, too?’
‘Sure I am.’
‘And what do
‘The pleasure of calling me a coward if I chicken out.’
‘And if you don’t?’
‘I get the pleasure of proving you wrong.’
‘Don’t do it.’ Catherine’s voice came from behind me, low and laden with warning.
‘Shut up, slag!’
I felt Kelly’s spittle in my face and glanced towards Peter. I wasn’t sure if he understood the gravity of his situation, or the trouble he’d got me into by showing off like this. ‘I’ll come with you,’ he said earnestly.
‘See? Even Daftie’s got more balls than you.’ Kelly was gloating now. He knew he had me cornered.
I shrugged. Trying to be dead casual. ‘Okay. But let’s make it a little more interesting. I’ll go first. We’ll time it. And whoever is slower has to do it again.’
And for the first time I saw Patrick Kelly’s confidence waver. It was his turn to be trapped. ‘No problem.’
What stupid boys we were! As Catherine was quick enough to point out to me when I pulled Peter away across the playground to give him a piece of my mind.
‘You’re insane,’ she said. ‘It’s about a hundred foot fucking high, that bridge. If you fall you’re dead. Nothing surer.’
‘I won’t fall.’
‘Well, I hope you don’t. Cos if you do, I won’t have the chance to say I told you so.’ She paused. ‘How are you going to get out of The Dean?’
I had never told anyone about my night-time jaunts to the village and the cemetery, and was a little reluctant now to reveal my secret. ‘Oh, there’s a way,’ I said casually.
‘Well, you’d better fucking tell me. Cos I’m coming, too.’
‘And me,’ Peter piped in.
I stopped and glared from one to the other. ‘No, you’re not. Either of you.’
‘And who’s going to fucking stop us?’ Catherine said.
‘Aye, who’s going to fucking stop us?’ Peter puffed up his chest defiantly. It was almost shocking to hear him swear like that. Catherine was a bad influence. But I knew I was beaten.
I said to Catherine, ‘Why would you want to come anyway?’
‘Well, if you’re going to do the walk against the clock, someone’s got to keep the time.’ She paused and sighed. ‘Besides, if you do fall, someone needs to be there to make sure Peter gets safely back to The Dean.’
I couldn’t have slept at lights out, even if I had wanted to. Three hours to go and I was feeling sick. What on earth had possessed me to get sucked into this stupid dare? Even more annoying, Peter had fallen asleep almost immediately, with an absolute confidence that I would wake him when it was time to go. I toyed with the idea of sneaking out without him, but knew that the uncertain nature of his response if waking to find me gone would only make it dangerous for both of us.
And so I lay beneath the blankets, unable for some reason, to get warm, and shivered from the cold and my own fear. Of course, word had spread like wildfire amongst the kids at school and everyone at The Dean that there was a dare between the Kellys and the McBrides. No one seemed to know why, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before Peter’s tattoo became public knowledge, and then only a matter of time before the powers that be got wind of it, too.
The future seemed a scary thing, then, obscured as it was by the darkness of unpredictability. I had the sense of my life, and Peter’s, slipping out of our hands. And while we’d had no control over our incarceration in The Dean, the place had provided, in that last year, a degree of comfort, if only in the brutal certainty of its routine.
Time passed both slowly and quickly. Every time I checked my watch it seemed only five minutes later. And then suddenly it was fifteen minutes to midnight. I wondered if, at the last, I had somehow dozed off without realising it. But now my heart was hammering away, beating right up into my throat, nearly choking me. It was time to go.
I slipped out from between the sheets, fully dressed, and pulled on my shoes. They had thick rubber soles that I hoped would give me some grip. I tied my laces with trembling fingers and jiggled Peter by the shoulder. To my irritation it took him some time to wake up. When finally he had shaken himself free of sleep and some undeservedly happy dream, the memory of what we were to be about that night returned to him, and his eyes shone with anticipation. ‘Time to go?’ he whispered loudly.
I put my finger to my lips and glared at him.
It wasn’t until we reached the door of the dormitory that I realized just how many others were awake, too. Voices whispered in the dark.
‘Good luck, Johnny.’
‘Show the fucker what the Dean boys are made of.’
I felt like saying, ‘You fucking show him!’
Catherine was waiting for us at the foot of the cellar stairs. She had a torch with her, and shone it in our faces as we came down. It almost blinded me.
‘For God’s sake put that away!’ I raised my hand to shade my eyes. And then, when the light went out, plunging us into darkness again, almost fell. ‘Jesus!’
‘You’re late!’ she whispered. ‘It’s scary as hell down here. Something keeps making strange clunking noises.
