Chapter 34 #2
‘Ah, excellent, brilliant,’ he said, taking the tea towel from his arm and flicking it up onto his shoulder. ‘I don’t know the parents but, God, that’s really tough, really is.’
‘Yes,’ I said, unsettled by Mr Beattie continuing to talk about the McCoys.
‘And tell me,’ he said, taking a seat on the edge of one of the hard upholstered chairs, ‘did they ever get to the bottom of it all?’
I remained standing, looking down at him, and shook my head quickly as if to say, All of what?
‘The one who found him,’ he said, ‘have they not got an explanation from him? I know I’ve got my legal hat on here but I’d imagine they’re entitled to substantial compensation.
I was wondering if they’re happy with their legal support and getting everything they need?
But I’m only talking as an outsider, I don’t have the details. What exactly happened on the day?’
I was feeling myself getting hot. I was annoyed that those rumours about Ronan and that day were piercing my bubble again.
That night was supposed to be a night where I didn’t have to deal with that sort of thing, especially not from adults.
I expected it from people in school, but for a man like Mr Beattie to be just as bad as them lit a fire in me.
‘Their number’s in the phone book if you want to phone up and ask?’ I said.
His eyebrows raised.
‘Well, I don’t think that would be an appropriate thing to do, Brendan, do you?’
‘So why is it appropriate to be asking me?’
His head went to one side and he crossed his right knee over his left.
‘Well, if there’s something that Ronan’s said to you …’
‘He can’t say to me!’ I almost shouted and then took a breath, but still spoke with heat. ‘He can’t because he can’t speak yet, Mr Beattie.’
‘I see,’ he said, uncrossing his legs and sitting forward. ‘Look, I know the upset, I deal with clients who’ve been through much worse than what Ronan has been through …’
‘And how would you know what he’s been through?’
‘Well, I think everyone …’
‘No, I think no one … ! I’m sorry, Mr Beattie, I don’t mean to be speaking to you like this in your own house but you don’t know what you’re talking about so I really wish you’d stop.’
I took a giant breath to cool myself down and we held each other’s gaze like in one of those old Clint Eastwood films that’s always on on a Sunday afternoon.
‘Well,’ he said, standing up, his face burning red and his forehead prickled with sweat.
‘Better get back and check on the curry, I think I can smell it sticking.’ He made a move as if he was going to come and shake my hand but then reached for the tea towel over his shoulder instead and started backing off to the doorway.
‘Lovely to meet you, Brendan, have a great night.’
I nodded. He didn’t nod back.
As soon as he turned and left I felt like smashing one of his expensive vases on the floor.
I had done so much to shield myself from what everyone had been saying about Ronan, I had made myself watertight against those rumours, but I wouldn’t be able to hide forever.
I really hoped Ronan would get his speech back fully soon so that I could put an end to it all, to live without the mystery and share in his truth.
As I stood in front of the fireplace and got my breath back, Jennifer walked into the room and took it away again.
‘Jennifer, you look beautiful.’
She shuffled in her usual self-conscious way when she received a compliment.
‘Thank you – you too,’ she said and frowned. ‘Well, handsome, I mean, you look handsome.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘This is for you.’ I handed her the single red rose. ‘I thought the corsage would be too much.’
She did a sort of giggle that I’d never heard her do before.
Mrs Beattie was standing in the hallway watching us and smiling with her glasses on.
‘Thank you,’ Jennifer said, blushing, seeming like she was trying to say more words but couldn’t until she cleared her throat and put on a voice. ‘Shall we depart?’
‘We shall,’ I said in the same voice.
Outside in the driveway, Dad was waiting with the digital camera.
‘A snap before we embark?’ he said.
‘Oh, photos?’ Jennifer said, looking a bit worried. ‘I really hate my picture being taken.’
‘Don’t worry, me too,’ I said. ‘This is the photos for Ronan and his parents for Sunday, for their eyes only.’
‘Oh, in that case snap away!’ she said to my dad.
So when the McCoys saw the picture of Jennifer and me standing at the front of her house, with Mrs Beattie half hidden in the doorway behind us, it was impossible for them to fully understand everything that the picture conveyed to me and the memory I had; the pain in my eyes from the fire Mr Beattie had stoked up in me, the nervousness in my body as I woodenly put my arm around Jennifer’s waist, the concrete grin on my face to make it seem like I was completely fine and everything was wonderful – which it was, but there was more to it and a picture could never tell it all.
I turned to look at Ronan – he looked calm, he looked fine.
‘And yeah, so, that’s us outside Jennifer’s house,’ I said to him.
His eyes moved from the screen to me. His mouth gave the tiniest of smiles, I’m sure it did, it was only for a second, but I definitely saw it. Maybe I did the same, maybe he saw it too. I turned back to the screen to move on to the next photo.
I didn’t find it as difficult to look at as the previous one, although all pictures of me are difficult to look at; how my ears stick out, my spotty face, how my hair never seems to sit right.
I’m always so self-conscious in the moment before a camera flash, but I was experiencing a whole new level of self-consciousness having to look at pictures of me on a screen in the company of others.
Except it was the McCoys, so, as my fear began to drop I was starting to experience a kind of joy in sharing with them, in letting Ronan experience the night through my eyes.
Seeing him begin to engage was worth suffering any level of embarrassment.
The next photo was one Jennifer had taken of me in the back seat of the BMW.
‘Come on,’ she had said, ‘strike a pose, don’t look so awkward – for Ronan’s eyes only, remember?’
In the photo I was scrunched into the corner of the back seat, doing a very stilted smile with my thumbs sticking up at chest height, looking directly down the lens.
‘Your turn,’ I said after Jennifer had taken the photo.
She hesitated a little, just as awkward about getting her picture taken as she said she was, but Ronan was our incentive and so she composed herself and fixed her hair.
‘Ready,’ she said.
The camera flashed.
The photo of Jennifer on the TV screen was so brightly lit that she appeared to be luminescent against the black leather seat.
The dusky light outside the window with the blur of trees as we sped along was the backdrop to her face, and in the reflection in the glass, like the disembodied head of a ghost, was my face over Jennifer’s left shoulder.
‘Oh, what a picture, Brendan,’ said Mrs McCoy. ‘I love this one. Look at you all doe-eyed in the reflection.’
I looked closer. There was something about my expression that was different, something in my eyes, and because it was a reflection I couldn’t see the spots on my face, my skin looked smooth and my hair was so dark you could hardly make it out.
It was the first picture of myself that I half liked, and when I scanned across to look at Jennifer, I could see why I looked so enchanted.
The ghost of me in the glass with the real Jennifer looked a lot better than the real me standing beside her outside her house.
Ronan did a loud sigh.
‘I think Ronan’s had enough of the romance,’ laughed Mrs McCoy.
‘Roger that,’ I said, turning to see Ronan, feeling his energy spur me on.
As I scrolled to the next photo, I was thinking about what had happened between it and the previous one.
Dad had pulled up outside the entrance to the hotel where the formal was being held.
There were pockets of people standing around to see the arrivals.
A limousine was parked to one side, Kevin Sherry was standing there with Leanne on his arm, with his football mates hanging out the windows of the limo; a few of them were standing up and poking their heads through the open sunroof.
‘Looks like King Kevin and Queen Leanne arrived in plenty of time for everyone to see them in their limo,’ said Jennifer, ‘although I bet they weren’t expecting to have competition in this hot deal!’
It was the first time Jennifer had mentioned the car.
I thought she hadn’t noticed; I immediately felt elevated that she had.
She was right, though, the group in the limo were looking in our direction in a way that reminded me of meerkats; Kevin let go of Leanne’s arm and stepped forward to peer over.
When Jennifer and me stepped out, it felt like a hush swept over everyone, or maybe it was me trying to block everything out.
I didn’t know if anyone other than Jennifer’s friends knew we were going to the formal together but seeing the looks on everyone’s faces, as they saw the two of us emerge, made me feel proud that I was there and that Jennifer was with me.
The moment was broken by my dad.
‘Right, both of you up front there on the red carpet and I’ll get a snap of you with the BM in the background.’
I heard a few giggles coming from Kevin’s direction and someone said:
‘It’s his da,’ and a burst of laughter.
‘Dad, it’s OK,’ I said, ‘there’s a photographer inside taking official pictures so we’ll get one in there.’
‘But the BM won’t be in the background,’ he said.
I could hear Kevin saying something and his friends laughing even louder.
‘We already have a few with the BM in the background,’ I said.
Kevin made his way into my vision and started mocking the movements of my dad trying to work the digital camera.