Campbell blinked as McGinty slammed his fist into his palm.
“Gerry only goes and smacks Bull O’Kane, the scariest fucker I ever met, right in the mouth.”
“Jesus,” Campbell said. He’d never heard of anyone crossing Bull O’Kane and getting away with it. With genuine curiosity, he asked, “What did the Bull do?”
“Fucking decked him.” McGinty grinned. “Bull’s got hands like sides of beef. He belted Gerry and he went down like a sack of spuds. Now, I’ve never seen anyone raise a hand to Bull O’Kane before or since. So, I was thinking, Christ, what now? He’ll kill him. I’m thinking we’ll have to bury this kid in the forest.”
McGinty’s smile washed away. “Well, Bull goes and gets one of the air rifles, puts a pellet in the breech, and comes back to Gerry. Gerry just stares up at him, breathing hard. Bull aims the rifle, says, ‘You’ve got some balls, son.’ I says, ‘Jesus, Bull, he’s just a kid, he didn’t mean it.’ Bull says, ‘Just a kid? Takes more than a kid to clout me. You better watch this young fella, he’s got great things ahead of him.”
Campbell realised his mouth was open. “And?” he asked.
“And he shot Gerry in the thigh. Tough wee bastard never made a sound. We drove all the way back to Belfast, him with a pellet in his thigh, and all he did was sweat and bleed till we dropped him at his ma’s house.”
“Christ,” Campbell said. “And now you think he’s done McKenna and Caffola?”
McGinty shrugged and dropped the cigarette butt to the ground. “Like I said, who else?”
“So why hasn’t he been sorted out?”
“Because I’m getting soft in my old age.” McGinty smiled as he slapped Campbell’s shoulder. “That’s all I’m saying. So, I’ve given him a wee job, you know, to see if he’ll do what he’s told. To see if he’s under control.” McGinty leaned in close. “Now, here’s what I need you to do for me . . .”
19
The little girl sized Fegan up as he stood on the other side of the low garden wall.
“What’s your name?” she asked from the doorstep.
“Gerry,” he said.
“I’ve got new shoes.” She extended her foot for his inspection. “Mummy got me them.”
“They’re pretty,” Fegan said.
“Ellen, show Gerry the lights,” Marie said as she closed the door.
Ellen jumped from the step onto the tiny garden’s path. Little red lights danced on her heels. She looked up at Fegan and grinned.
“You’re good at jumping,” Fegan said.
“Yeah, I can jump really high,” she said, lifting her arms above her head to illustrate.
“Show me,” he said.
“Okay,” Ellen said as she squatted down. She launched herself upward with all her strength and landed square on her feet. “That was really high, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Fegan said.
“How high can you jump?”
“Not very high,” he said.
“Show me.”
“No, I’m too tired,” Fegan said.
“But I showed you.” Ellen’s little blue eyes pleaded with him.
“Oh, go on,” Marie said. “Fair’s fair.”
Fegan looked up and down the street. Marie and Ellen joined him on the footpath.
“Don’t worry, nobody’s watching,” Marie said, suppressing a giggle.
Fegan sighed and bent his knees, wondering when he’d last jumped for the sake of jumping. He pushed upward and staggered as he landed, his leather soles slapping on the pavement. Marie and Ellen both applauded as he smoothed his jacket. He still wore his black suit, but the tie was tucked into his pocket.
“I jumped far higher than that,” Ellen said.
Fegan couldn’t argue. “You win.”
She grinned at him and her mother in turn then spun on her heels to walk east along Eglantine Avenue towards the Malone Road. She turned to acknowledge Marie’s instruction not to go too far ahead. Fegan and Marie followed.
“It’s a beautiful evening,” Marie said. Trees lined the avenue and the evening sun made shadow patterns on her skin. “You forget how lovely Belfast can be. All it takes is a little sunshine.”
Eglantine Avenue’s old houses glowed red. Some were better kept than others. Some, like Marie’s, were divided into flats. Others housed students or migrant workers, while others provided office space for dentists or lawyers. The avenue ran between the Lisburn and Malone Roads, and the rumble of traffic at either end seemed muted by the gentle May warmth.
“Ellen looks like you,” Fegan said.
