opened the big book in front of her and huffed, ‘There is no function.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You said function… from the newspaper.’
‘Aye, Mr Bacon’s the editor. I saw his car out front.’
Looks askance: ‘No. Nothing at all.’ Then the killer, eyes up and down, ‘And who might you be?’
I was on the verge of walking, but somewhere in my mind the delusion of myself and Debs, happily connected, settled, me working back at the paper and my shit together, flashed before my eyes. I said, ‘Dury… Gus Dury.’
A flicker behind those contemptuous beads. ‘Ah, I see. It’s you.’
‘I’m sorry?’
A smirk. ‘Through the restaurant, first door on the left.’
‘Thank you.’
There were some diners who looked up when I passed their tables, but mostly they kept to themselves. The older lot seemed to be the clientele the place was going for. Felt like wading through waves of grey.
At the door, I decided against knocking, walked in.
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
First to spot me was my mother, looking more frail than I’d seen her in years. I almost had to do a double- take. She shuffled over and held me by my arm. ‘Hello, Angus.’
‘Mam, what the hell is this?’
Everyone was there: Hod, Mac, Debs, Rasher, my sister Catherine and my brother Michael; even some people I hadn’t seen for years, old friends of the family I could hardly put names to.
‘Mam, is everything okay? I was worried. I meant to visit you.. ’
She hushed me, motioned to a chair that had been laid out in the middle of the room, a row of others emanating back from it. I was told to sit in the hot seat. The others followed. To a one they looked stern.
I sat.
Felt my pulse quicken.
Rasher was the first to speak. Everyone sat watching, except for Mac, who told Rasher to stand.
‘Gus,’ Rasher said, ‘do you know why you’re here?’
I shook my head, said, ‘Well, unless Michael Aspel’s about to appear with a big red book, I have to confess, I’m scoobied.’
Rasher went on, ‘Gus, your friends and family have staged this little event as a wake-up call to try and-’
Mac interrupted, ‘Gus, this is an intervention!’
‘A what?’ Had I heard right?
Rasher waved Mac down. ‘Yes, well, that’s one way of putting it.. We’re here to make you aware of our concern for you, Gus.’
Hang on — was I hearing this? Mr Bacon, concerned about me? I wasn’t buying it.
‘Whoa! Back up. Can you cut to the chase here? I’m not overly familiar with this concern you’re talking about.’
Mac rose. ‘Gus, this is an alcoholic’s intervention… We’re here to shock you into taking some steps.’
Now I got the picture. Alcoholic’s intervention. I’d heard nothing like it. The image I had stored in my head of Rasher presenting me with a contract, his fat hand poised, pen gripped over it as he asked me to sign, suddenly vanished. There would be no job offer, no new life. It was all dreams.
I looked to Debs. She stared at the floor. I knew she’d been dragged along for this, I felt nothing but sympathy for her. How could anyone ask her to do this, after what I’d put her through? I felt massive rage — I wanted to fire it at someone.
I stood up quickly, the chair went flying at my back.
I heard my mother gasp. ‘Angus, please hear the man out.’
‘No, Mam, this is stupid.’
‘Now, Gus, I appreciate it must be a shock,’ said Rasher.
‘Shock! I’ll give you shock, you deceitful bastard.’
Hod rose. ‘Gus, c’mon, man, give it a chance.’
Mac followed him, put his oar in. ‘People have come a long way here, Gus. You have to give them their say.’
I pointed a finger at him, but words failed me. I turned for the door.
As I stormed through the restaurant I heard Debs’s voice call me, ‘Gus, Gus, wait up.’
I didn’t stop.
Grey heads bobbed up all over the place this time.
In the car park Debs finally caught me, grabbed my jacket and spun me round. ‘I told them it was a daft idea.’
‘Oh, they listened to you.’
She turned down the corners of her mouth. ‘I’m sorry.’
It seemed strange hearing her say that; normally that was my line. I turned away, kept walking.
‘Gus, where are you going?’
‘Away from here.’
She followed. ‘Then I’m coming too.’
I turned, said, ‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’
‘I don’t care.’
‘I could stop you.’
‘You could try.’ She smiled at me, stuck out her tongue.
We laughed together.
‘And what use would that be?’
We walked around for about an hour, settled down on an embankment like two teenagers, a bottle of Cherry Coke between us.
‘I didn’t think they still made this,’ I said.
‘They brought it back. Wispas too.’
‘Wispas were away?’
‘Och yeah, for years, Gus.’
Where had I been? I’d wanted to talk to Debs for so long, about so many things, but none of it seemed to matter now. I was happier than I could ever remember being, just talking about utter nonsense.
‘Look, a star,’ said Debs.
‘I think it’s a satellite.’
‘You sure?’
‘No.’ Christ, was I sure about anything? ‘It doesn’t look like a star, though.’
She passed over the bottle. ‘Do you remember when we used to do this down at the chute?’
I laughed, wheezed. ‘Oh yeah. How could I forget that Merrydown? It was foul.’
‘Think kids today still hang about parks and drink Merrydown?’
‘I don’t think they make it any more.’
‘Maybe they’ll bring it back.’
We laughed again, huge laughs. I fell back and lay on the grass. Debs joined me.
‘It’s getting dark,’ she said.
‘Late in the day, Debs.’
She raised herself on an elbow. ‘You always manage to make an unrelated statement seem related to what we’re talking about.’
‘No I don’t.’
‘And you always deny it.’ She tweaked my nose.
‘Yeah, you’re right. I’m a wise-ass… but it takes one to know one.’ As I stared at Debs I knew no one would ever know me as well as she did. She just understood me, inside out. No matter who I was with, nobody could match Debs for insight. It was just her, and her alone, who got me.
‘Look, now that’s a star,’ I said.
