The Doll's House

‘I ain’t going up no poxy hill with him.’


‘Stevie, watch your language.’ His ma had given him the evils. Stevie’s ma could give the evils better than Marlon Brando in The Godfather, and Stevie knew this guy was getting the whole nine yards when it came to his ma wanting to make a good impression. Mr Save the World had lasted longer than most. He wasn’t even put off when Stevie asked him how he thought the Pope did a piss with all those bleedin’ clothes on. But he lost interest in the end. His type always did, just like the bloody Hamiltons.

Stevie’s ma never went to Mass, and she didn’t send him to a religious school either. He’d figured out a long time back that she and the clergy had crossed swords more than once, and his ma wasn’t in the mind of forgiving them. But she still made him go, and it was at Mass that he met the people who didn’t live in crappy houses. He would see a girl he liked and follow her home. Every one of the good ones lived in big fancy houses to go with their silky hair and pretty faces.

Back then he didn’t have the charisma he has now. That was something he’d had to develop. If any of them smelt a hint of crappiness off him, they’d bloody leg it. The accent was the hardest to shift, but the telly was great for that, movies especially. Some people used to think he was from the States. He took to calling streets ‘blocks’ and presses ‘cupboards’. But it was better than school learning. School learning was all right as far as it went, but real life required something a whole lot different. It was all about judging your mark. If he had a rich punter in the garage, he would lean on the Dublin accent, helping the eejit think they were more intelligent. Being thought stupid had its advantages, once you knew things were the other way around.

Girls, they were different. They liked the Sandymount accent, or every now and again, he would pretend to be American, but never to an American: that would have been plain stupid. Seeing Clodagh Hamilton had brought back the old days, like the grime he’d felt under his skin when he was younger. The kind no showering ever washed off. Clodagh and Dominic Hamilton might as well have lived on a different planet, with their big house and nice clothes. Neither of them knew anything about shit. Born into Cosy Land, and a bit like Stevie not knowing he lived a life of crap, they didn’t know they lived a life of luxury either.

Following Clodagh last night had brought back some of the old resentment. Stevie was smart. As a kid, he’d known more about the world than Dominic, Clodagh and even Martin McKay rolled into one. When you started off with nothing, you learned to fight for what you wanted. It was the only battleground that put you one step ahead of the likes of them.

That idiot Jenkins turning up dead meant something, but Stevie had no intention of meddling with the bigger fish first. Better to rattle Ruby McKay’s cage. You can get so much more out of the mouths of babes.





Mervin Road


When the phone rang at lunchtime on Sunday, Kate thought it would be Declan, but she was wrong. Charlie had asked to go to Shane’s again, and she hadn’t the heart to say no. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when she heard Miriam’s voice.

‘Hi, Kate.’

Kate could hear both boys playing in the background. ‘Is everything okay, Miriam?’

‘Oh, yes. Perfect. The boys are in great form. They want to stay together for another while. I’m hearing “sleepover” but I’ll see how they go. You know what they’re like when they get overtired. You don’t mind, do you, Kate? If you drop Charlie’s stuff over later, I can take them both to school in the morning.’

‘Miriam, you’re very kind, but I’d prefer if Charlie didn’t stay overnight.’ Kate knew Miriam wouldn’t be happy. Her refusal indicated a lack of trust. But she wasn’t going to share information about Charlie’s bedwetting, fearing Miriam would say something out of turn in front of Shane, and Charlie would end up the butt end of it. ‘He’s overtired already and his dad will be phoning him tonight.’

‘Well, if you’re sure. It’s no bother.’

‘No, honestly, you’re too kind. Let me know when I’m to pick him up, and phone me if World War Three breaks out beforehand.’ Kate let out a short laugh, hoping to lighten things.

‘No problem. You can pick him up at five, and don’t worry, I’ll call you if they get too hot to handle.’ It was her turn to laugh.

‘Great. You have my mobile?’

‘Sure, sure. Got to go. They’re roaring for food.’

‘Good luck.’ Again Kate laughed.

‘Let’s hope I don’t need it.’ And with that Miriam hung up.