Chapter 33
There were two reasons I didn’t sleep very well the night before the formal.
The first was to do with Dad.
He’d decided we should do a double driving lesson on Friday evening because I was missing Saturday and Sunday’s lessons by going to the formal and visiting Ronan.
We spent the first hour of the lesson doing the usual rounds of St Matthew’s car park, but when I refused to go onto the main road for the first time, he started to get frustrated with me.
‘You need to get onto the roads, Brendan, we’ve been round and round this car park for months and there’s nothing more we can do, you need to get onto the roads!’
I eventually gave in and ended up being the cause of a long tailback because of how slow I was.
‘Shift into third, Brendan, and get the speed up a bit, look at the traffic behind us.’
‘It was you who wanted me out on the roads, Dad, this is what you get; I don’t want to go faster, I don’t feel confident enough.’
Then the cars started beeping when I stalled at a junction.
‘Come on, get her started up again there. Come on, quick.’
‘Swap.’
‘What?’
‘Swap. You drive. I’m done.’
When I got out I saw the angry faces of the people in the cars behind. Dad was making apologetic expressions as if to say, What can you do?
‘Right, we’ll head back to the car park and get the full two hours done,’ he said when we got back inside.
‘Can we not head home?’
‘No.’
We spent a further half hour doing parking manoeuvres at St Matthew’s before Dad finally called an end to it.
‘What’s wrong? Is your head not in the game because of this formal coming up with this lady friend of yours?’
‘She’s not my lady friend.’
‘What is she, then?’
‘I don’t know but she’s not that.’
‘Oh right.’
‘Yeah, oh right.’
‘Well, whatever she is, I hope you’re in a better mood for her tomorrow than you are tonight.’
‘I’ll be in a better mood when I can get this car cleaned and presentable for tomorrow night.’
‘And will you be turning this car into a magic self-driving one as well? Or who’s your driver going to be?’
My dependence on him driving us to the formal was something I couldn’t battle against so I remained silent.
‘Didn’t think so,’ he said.
I was boiling when I got home. No one could infuriate me quite like my dad. I punched and punched my mattress; it didn’t do much good.
The other reason I couldn’t sleep was actually a jumble of reasons rolled into one big ball that made me realise I was caring much more about the formal than I wanted to.
There were too many things I had to do: I’d have to work double speed at Feeney’s on Saturday morning, I’d have to eat on the go, I’d have to clean Dad’s car as fast as possible and try to get ready in whatever time I had left before picking Jennifer up at her house; I’d probably have to meet her parents!
I tried to wash away the worry on Saturday morning in Feeney’s yard alongside washing the BMW; it wasn’t working very well, but at least I managed to get the car finished along with the hearse just before midday.
I rang the doorbell and Mr Feeney answered.
‘I know I keep tellin’ you this, Brendan,’ he said, ‘but just come on in, you don’t need to be ringin’ the doorbell every time.’
‘I know, Mr Feeney,’ I said, knowing I probably never would. ‘That’s the hearse and the BM done, here’s the keys.’
He took both sets off me and then handed the BMW set back.
‘Hang on to those ones.’
I gave him a look.
‘Your da is goin’ to need them the’night to drive you and your “date” to the formal.’
‘What?’
‘That’s your transportation for this evening, it’s all arranged.’
‘Ah, Mr Feeney, that’s too much. I can’t let you do that – that’s your car and I don’t want to be troubling you, honestly, I’m heading back to sort my da’s car now.’
‘What are you talkin’ about?’ he said. ‘Sure the BM’s only goin’ to be sittin’ in the driveway till Monday.’
‘So it didn’t need cleaning today?’
‘It did. For you,’ he said, pointing his finger at my chest. ‘And maybe a wee bit for your da too. I’ve seen the way he eyes up that motor, he’s bustin’ for a spin in it.’
‘Have you seen my da’s driving, Mr Feeney?’
‘Ah your da’s a great driver, sure you know that; you’ve got the best drivin’ instructor in the town, Brendan.’
I had a flashback of my disastrous lesson the night before. Sometimes I wished I did have a proper driving instructor, maybe I would have had the confidence to drive on the roads if I did.
‘Ah, Mr Feeney, thanks very much, this is just brilliant! Will I phone my da and let him know?’
‘Him and me spoke yesterday mornin’ and arranged it all. He told me he’d say nothin’ to you till I did, so he’ll be here any second to pick it up and drive you home.’
I shook my head. My dad and Mr Feeney had plotted amongst themselves. All I could do was laugh.
As if on cue, the tyres of Dad’s Honda crunched on the gravel of the driveway and parked up in the yard.
‘Right there, Gerry,’ Dad said, getting out of the car looking pleased with himself.
‘Right there, Cathal, your Royal Highness Brendan is all set and informed and approved for carriage this evening to the ball in yon fine BMW,’ Mr Feeney said in what I think he thought was a posher version of his own Northern Irish accent.
‘Well, I suppose that makes me his footman,’ Dad said, bowing.
I was rubbing the back of my neck and squinting.
‘Thank you, Mr Feeney; thanks, Dad. You two are thick as thieves planning this.’
They slapped each other on the back.
‘I was winding him up last night,’ Dad said.
The anger I’d had towards him now made me feel guilty.
‘Enjoy yourself the’night, Brendan,’ said Mr Feeney. ‘Don’t do anythin’ I wouldn’t do.’
It was a rare thing for me to sit in the passenger seat of Mr Feeney’s BMW. It felt strange to be driven in it instead of polishing the windscreen or rubbing balm into the leather seats.
‘Brendan,’ Dad said as we drove smoothly along the roads to our house, ‘do you know the way you wanted me to drop you and Jennifer off at the bottom of the car park tonight so that you could walk up to the entrance from there?’
‘Yeah,’ I said, remembering the strict instructions I’d given him to avoid people seeing Jennifer and me arriving in the Honda.
‘Well, would you like me to drop you off right at the front door instead?’
‘You mean, with everyone watching?’ I said, grinning.
‘Aye,’ he said, grinning too, ‘with all your schoolmates watching.’
‘Yes, Dad,’ I said, ‘I think I’d definitely like that very much.’