Keith O’Connell was not a particularly unhappy man, nor was he a particularly happy one. He was content enough in his one-bedroom flat in Balbriggan with his cat Fiachra and his special insect eating plant from Japan. He never married and didn’t have kids and never desired to have either. He earned a perfectly reasonable wage working for an accountancy firm, which allowed him to pay off his mortgage and provide for his cat Fiachra and his Japanese plant. Keith never bothered to contribute to a pension and avoided what he called ‘ludicrous spending on unnecessary junk’. Keith’s most expensive purchase was his Rolls Royce. It wasn’t that he was a particularly fond of vintage cars, but he liked the idea of his father turning in his grave at the tought of his ‘good for nothing’ son owning his dream car. Keith lived modestly and spent his money on travelling the world, which according to him, was the only thing anybody should set out to do. He’dbeen to all seven continents (yes, including Antartica) and spent every Christmas in the Bahamas.
Keith had always been a planner and knew what he wanted to do even before the questions started rolling in about what he wanted to do with his life. Not many twelve year olds responded with ‘accountant’ when asked what they wanted to be when they grow up. However, Keith had never really been much of a child and never had much of an imagination. He’d done the research and found accountancy to be by far the most realistic and stable career. Plus, he had always been good at maths. Keith liked things that had solid reliable answers rather than the wishy-washy bullshit kids did in school these days.
62 might sound a little young for some people, but for Keith it was the perfect age to die. He’d made all the arrangements necessary. He’d left half of his money to Fiachra and the other half would be spent on what Keith called ‘the end’.He’d spoken to Fiachra who was happy enough to spend the rest of his days with their neighbour Jean. Jean had always been a satisfactory neighbour. She never called over unnecessarily and was always happy to water the Japanese plant and feed Fiachra when Keith was on his travels.
Setting ‘the end’ up was relatively easy. He found the number for people who ‘deal with these specific requests’ online. People may question why he didn’t just throw himself off a cliff or overdose on painkillers but he hated the thought of someone finding his mangled body or Fiachra clawing at the bathroom door looking for his evening meal while he lay cold and still on the tiled floor. No, this had to be clean and organised. He had given his place of work plenty of notice for his departure. Now he just had to do it.
The End-Part One
Two men stood opposite each other atop a rather precarious looking cliff face. The sun was setting and illuminated the stony beach just about visible below the steep cliff. If it wasn’t for the circumstances, one might say that this scene was quite picturesque. One of the men was tall and thin and wore an expensive looking suit. These were the only visible features of said man as he wore a cloth bag atop his head. The other man was short, fat and balding but most notably he held a small pistol in his right hand and was pointing it towards the man with a bag on his head. The fat man’s hand was trembling as he held the weapon. What was left of his hair flopped to one side of his large round head. In contrast, the man with the bag on his head looked calm behind the cloth bag, he smiled like someone who is control and comfortable.
This was never the career the fat balding man envisaged. Ironically, he despised violence and his mother always said he had a ‘gentle soul’. In this particular case, the mother was not swayed by bias. Gary O’Shea was not a very intelligentman. He was never academically inclined but always enjoyed caring for people and did so for his mother up until her death two years ago. Unfortunately for Gary, Mary never made a penny in her long life and Keith was forced to mix with the wrong people to keep his head above the water.
This was Garys first ‘big job’ and one that he was rather apprehensive about. His fat hands hovered nervously around the trigger of the gun. Of course, the gang leader Padraig, did not give this particular job to Gary out of respect or a trust in his abilities. Rather, he was a last resort, something Gary had become accustomed to throughout the course of his life. The gang which Gary was part of had to flee to Spain as it was revealed that one of the gangs’ members was an undercover guard and had put their entire organisation in danger. Gary was the last man standing. His almost anonymity would mean that it was highly unlikely for him to be targeted by the Gardai as he they had no idea who he was. Gary hated violence and winced at the mere thought of blood. This, along with his general lack of discernible skills made him wholly unfit to be the leader of a criminal gang, and Gary knew that. He was now drenched in sweat and his hands were slippery against the cold hard weapon in his hands. In Padraig’s words ‘even someone as useless and stupid as Gary bloody O’Shea couldn’t fuck up the shooting of a man who wanted to die’. As the time passed, it began to look like Padraig could be very wrong.
Gary had shot a gun once in his life and it didn’t end particularly well. Not that he missed his target completely. 10 years ago, Gary was watching television at a warehouse behind the shopping centre the gang used as a hideout when he heard a noise from the side entrance. An intruder or maybe a member of a rival gang? He hastility grabbed a gun that was hidden away beneath the floorboards and cautiously edged towards the source of the noise. Nobody ever used the side entrance, so he knew it wasn’t one of the gang. He made tentative steps towards the door, his hands shaking as he held the gun in his now sweaty palms. He edged towards the door which led to the room where the side entrance was. A hooded figure stood with his back to Gary and was getting something out of his bag. What if it was a gun? Thought Gary-his fat face now streaming with sweat. This could be his big moment. How pleased would Padraig be if he stopped what was probably a burglar or a member of their rival gang? The figure, obviously hearing Gary’s heavy breathing, began to turn. Gary, who had never so much as hurt a fly, pressed down hard on the trigger in a fit of courage. The power of the gun firing was enough to send Gary backwards, tripping over the leg of a chair in the process. The noise made his ears ring and he lay sprawled on the floor for nearly half a minute He had no idea whether or not he had hit the intruder.Eventually, he mustered the strength and courage to stand up. On the ground, blood pouring from a gaping wound in his shoulder, was one of his fellow gang members. That was the last time Gary was allowed to handle a gun, till now.
As he stood there-gun in hand pointed vaguely at the bagged man’s head area-he remembered the bloody scene all those years ago and felt suddenly quite sick. The bagged man was starting to lose his patience as the two men entered their 10th minute of standing opposite each other. He had spent a considerable amount of money for this ‘procedure’ as he called it, and he wasn’t about to have it go to waste. Garys chubby fingers hovered nervously above the trigger-the weight of another man’s death in his hands. The bagged man was about to speak up as his frustration was beginning to grow but a noise in the distance stopped him in his tracks. Sirens. He had picked a very rural area for the procedure to take place and they were well out of earshot of any houses. He tried to reassure himself but an unmistakable tinge of panic was present in his voice when he said ‘can you please get on with it’ to a visibly shaking Gary. If Keiths usually calm and collected demeaner was waning, Gary was in full panic mode. ‘Oh God oh god, fuck fuck fuck’. The sirens were growing louder and nearer and Gary was frozen in fear-his hands still gripped the small gun tightly but he knew that he would not be killing anybody tonight. He considered for a moment. He could not afford to go to jail and could even less afford to deal with Padraig if he did end of behind bars. Gary remembered all too well what happened to poor Barney Brooks when he screwed up a job. Gary was never particularly good at making decisions under pressure and this cold, January evening would be no different. In a rush of blood and panic, Gary screamed at Keith to get into the tiny ford focus that was parked on the road behind them, shaking the gun in his direction with slightly more menace than before. Keith was bewildered and unsure what exactly Gary was threatening considering he had paid to be shot.
‘Just pull the fucking trigger already’ screamed Keith.
‘It’s too late. Get in the car-we’ll have to do this somewhere else.’ Gary responded.
Keith sighed. He was beginning to think that this man wasn’t very good at his job but saw little option but to follow his orders in this instance. He felt a chubby hand grip his wrist and gently pull him towards the car. Gary instructed him to duck as he helped him climb into the back of the car-the cloth bag still atop his head. He heard the door close, and he felt around for a seatbelt-he had a feeling this could be quite a rough ride. Gary got into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. The car roared into action and they were off as Gary saw flashing lights in the distance.
They drove for almost two hours with no destination in mind. They were well into the countryside-maybe Roscommon or Westmeath. Keith had to admit the bag was rather uncomfortable at this stage.
‘The boss has a place around here-sort of a hideout. We could go there for the next couple of days. At least until the coppers lose their scent, you know?What do you think?’ said Gary.
‘What do I think?Aren’t you supposed to be the criminal mastermind?’ Keith replied.
‘Well I wouldn’t say mastermind. I do ok on The Chase but other than that……’.
Keith pondered for a moment before answering ‘Whatever, I need to get this bag off my face so if that’s the way to do it’.
Gary pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched the address: The Crescent, Ballybowen, Co. Westmeath.
‘It says its only a 15-minute drive from here. ‘
Keith’s patience was wearing thin but he sighed and uttered a barely audible ‘fine’.
Gary started up the car again and they drove on the GPS guiding them towards their destination. They were taken down narrow laneways and roads that had grass growing through the middle.
“In 100 metres, your destination will be on the right’ the female GPS announced.
‘Thank fuck’ Keith muttered underneath his breath.
The gates to the house were wide open and they made their way up a winding and stony driveway. Gary parked up and Keith could hear Gary’s car door open and close. This was shortly followed by the sound of his door openeing and Garys heavy breathing. He felt a chubby hand grab his harm gently and guide him out of the car. Keith felt disorientated.
‘I think I can probably take this off now’ said Gary.
Keith took a large gulp of fresh air as he felt the bag come off his head.
The house was clearly old and in need of repair. Gary rooted around in his pockets and eventually pulled out a small key and opened the door. There was a musty smell inside and Keith could tell that no one at set foot in the house for a very long time.
‘Its a bit rough around the edges but it will do’ said Gary.
The house opened directly into the living room. The couches were dirty and moth eaten. There were some old magazines on a wooden coffee table. An old satellite TV was in the corner of the room. Keith also noticed a large dining table just behind the couch. It was covered in carboard boxes. Keith walked through the living room into the kitchen which was small and cluttered with more boxes. There was strong smell of unwashed carpets and the walls were damp and mouldy.
‘Not exactly the four seasons is it?’ remarked Keith.
Gary didn’t reply but sat down on the couch with a sigh. He put his head in his hands and stayed there for what must have been at least 15 minutes as Ketih paced around the room. When he emerged Keith noticed Garys eyes were bloodshot and wet. Despite the situation, Keith couldn’t help but have a tinge of sympathy for the rather pathetic looking man.
‘ We should make a plan…………this is fixable…….we wait until it’s pitch dark ……and then. You can kill me out the back…….’
Keith paused for moment and then a horrible realiztion dawned on him. If his body was found at this place in these circumstances he would no doubt be implicated in some sort of criminal activity….albeit posthumously. He could not have that.
‘Shit..No. That won’t work….we’ll have to go somewhere else’
Gary mumbled ‘We’re gonna have to leave it a few days. The roads will be crawling with coppers’
‘Fuke sake’ uttered Keith and sat down on an old withered looking armchair. This could be ok-he thought-a few days wouldn’t be so bad. Besides-if he got arrested his plan would be even further delayed. If they were going to be here for a few days they’d need some food. He was just about to ask Gary if there was any food in the kitchen when he heard a noise from upstairs. It sounded like the somebody getting out of a bed.
“Get your gun ready’ he said to Gary.
“Relax, that would be the grandmother’ Gary responded casually.
‘Grandmother????’
‘Yeah, its her house’
‘What?!!I thought it was a gang hideout’
‘Sorry-I thought that sounded cooler’
The stairs creaked as Garys grandmother came down the stairs slowly.
‘Great’ said Keith with more than a hint of sarcasm ‘Are you even a even a real criminal?’
Gary stood up, affronted by this accusation. ‘Hey, what the hell is that meant to mean?Of course I am. Thats actually a pretty sensitive issue believe it or not. I’m just as real as any of those mobsters on the telly like Al Capone or the guy from the Godfater .. Gary seemed to forget that he was offended for a moment before looking up to the sky and smiling and saying.’ or…the legendary Tony Soprano’
Keith was too stunned to speak. He had clearly been conned by an idiot with a toy gun.
‘For fuck sake. Wheres the nearest bus stop to here? I’m going home’
‘You can’t!’ Gary said with urgency and pulled the gun out from his pocket and pointed it at Keith.
‘Oh come on, do you really think I’m thick enough to think thats a real gun?’
The footsteps grew louder as Garys Grandmother got to the bottom of the stairs.
Keith took the gun from Garys hand easily, pointed it to the ground.
‘Haha, it even feels fake’ said Keith before pointing the gun at the ceiling and pulling the trigger. Ketih had expected the gentle pop of a childrens toy gun. Instead, there was an almighty blast. Keith dropped the gun in shock and fell back onto the couch. A gaping hole was now in the ceiling.
Gary picked up the gun. ‘You can’t leave now. Your fingerprints are on the gun.’
“Ah, they finally gave you a gun back-is the fellas shoulder ok?Oh Isn’t that lovely.’ said an old woman from the entrance of the living room.
‘Hi Granny’ said Gary.
Keiths Grandmother was a tiny woman, barley 5ft tall with thin grey hair and bright green eyes. She was wearing a pink dressing gown, floral pyjamas and a pair of purple slippers.
Gary and his grandmother hugged and Gary gave her a peck on the cheek. The woman was either oblivious to the hole in her ceiling or simply didn’t care. She turned to Keith who sat awkwardly on the couch, his ears still ringing from the gunshot.
‘And are you the boyfreind?’ Before Keith could respond she turned to Gary ‘Sure, didn’t I always know you were gay ever since you wore that fluffy scarf of your Mams around the house and did your little twirls. You used to listen to that song Dancing Queen all day long’.
‘No, Granny……..this is my …ah colleague in the force……Johnny…..’
‘Ah, thats a shame but you’ll meet someone soon love I promise….the gays have an app you know now..if you wanted to find someone’ She put her hand on his shoulder.
‘Thats fine Gran, thanks’
Garys granny then turned to Keith.
‘Jesus, I’ve been very rude-I’m Mary..Mary O’Dea’. She held her arms out for a hug and Keith hesitantly got up off the couch, bent down and gave Mary a hug.
‘Now, a cup of tea and a few sandwiches is whats youse need.’ As she passed Gary she said ‘God, do they not feed you on the force, you’re looking very slim………..better fatten you up while you’re here’ . Gary, who was plump to say the least went red in the face. Mary retreated to the kitchen where they could hear a kettle being filled and cupboards being opened and closed.
Gary looked guiltily at Keith.
‘On the force???’ Keith asked with anger in his voice.
Gary scratched the back of his neck and winced.
‘Well, i didn’t want her to think I was a criminal ……so I may have told her I was a high ranking police detective’.
Keith wanted to punch Gary but instead he just laughed. It was more of cruel, mocking laugh than a proper laugh. He sat back down on the couch.
“This is just fucking great. What next?’
Gary wringed his hands nervously.
‘I’m sorry ok…..I didn’t want her to be ashamed of me……’ he said as tears began to fill in his big lamp like eyes.
Keith once again couldn’t help but feel a touch of pity on the site of the blubbering mess stood in front of him.
‘At least tell me theres a plan B’ asked Keith more in hope then in expectation. Just as he finished asking the question Garys phone rang, and he picked it up to look at who was calling.
‘Its him-its Pádraig.,……..I can’t answer…..hes going to be so angry…….Fuck……fuck…fuck’
After a minute of ringing the phone went silent. Shortly after a bing indicated a text message. Gary looked at the message and let out a yelp before showing his phone to Keith.
The text message read: I know you failed. I’m coming.’
Chapter 2
Mary, Gary and Keith sat in the living room drinking tea. Mary had a big smile on her face as she looked from one man to the other.
‘So what’s the case you’re working on at the moment?’
‘Thats confidential Granny’ replied Gary.
‘Ah, you can tell me-I’m your Grandmother” Mary responded, slightly offended. ‘Where are your uniforms anyway?’
Gary hesitated for a moment and before he could answer Keith cut in ‘We’re undercover, we’ve infiltrated a drug gang’
Mary looks mightily impressed. “Oh jaysus, its like the movies……my grandson….i could cry….’ she said putting an arm around Gary and giving him a kiss on the cheek……….Jesus I forgot the biscuits’ and Mary scampered back to the kitchen.
Keith and Gary sat in silence for a moment before Gary said with more hope than expectation ‘He’s in Spain………if he comes back here, he’ll get arrested’.
‘……..yeah….i’m sure……….btw I paid 3 grand for this I still want my end of the deal’ replied Keith.
‘…….I’m sorry but I just can’t do it…..Why do you want to die anyway?
Keith was saved from answering by the arrival of Mary with a large plate of biscuits.
‘Eat up love’ she said to Gary.
Gary helped himself to a custard cream and dunked it in this cup of tea.
“Do you like bourbons Keith?’ asked Mary.
‘Ah, ……not really……..don’t have much of a sweet tooth to be honest’’
“Ah, thats a shame, I’m sorry for ya….will we see if theres anything on the telly?’
Mary picked up the tv remote which was sitting on the coffee table and pointed it at the television. It was one of the old box tvs with the basic tv channels- namely RTE1 and RTE2. The TV flickered on and it was the news. A reporter was standing beside a country road where there had been a serious road traffic accident. They cut back to the studio where a woman wearing a green cardigan and blond hair was sitting behind a desk.
‘Thank you for that report Tony..Before we leave you, we have some breaking news to bring you from Spain. The renowed criminal Padraig Myers has had his arrest warrant revoked in exchange for information provided to An Garda Siochana’
‘OH bollox,’ said Gary and dropped the china mug onto the carpet spraying hot tea everywhere.
‘Nevermind that, I’ll clean it up later,…..hes got lovely hair hasn’t he?’. Mary was looking longingly at the television.
It was perfectly true. The man on the television had slick, shoulder-length jet back hair. He was tall and muscular. He wore sunglasses and was waving and smiling at the camera as if he was some sort of celebrity.
Gary gulped and looked at Keith who himself looked nervous. The anchor finished the news by saying that ‘Mr. Myers pans to return to Ireland this evening and says hes couldn’t wait to see his wife and children. Thats it for Mondays news-good evening’.
‘More tea anyone?’ asked Mary jovially
‘No, I’m grand, thanks Mary’, said Keith.
‘What about you love’ she asked turning to Gary.
‘No’ Gary said absently still staring a the TV which was now showing an advert for car insurance. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was open. His face, which was usually rosy, red, was now as white as snow.
‘We’re fucked’ he said.
The rest of their evening was spent in silence apart from several offers of tea from Mary or observations of people on the magazine she was reading from (which incidently looked like it was at least 20 years old).
‘Jesus-isn’t Pamela Anderson beautiful?” Mary said as she flicked through the magazine.
She turned the magazine towards Keith and Gary ‘What do youse think?I know youse are gay and all that but still..?’
‘Nanny…..not now’.
‘Something on your mind love?’ she asked. She sat down right next to him and put her arm around her shoulder. Before Gary could answer there was a knock on the door.
Mary jumped up to answer it with surprising speed for woman of her age. Gary tried to get up. himself but struggled to get out of the chair. ‘Nanny, no, let me’ he said but it was too late. Mary was at the door and had it opened before Gary eventually got himself out of the chair. Keith sat frozen in fear. Surely Padraig couldn’t already be here?
It wasn’t Padraig at the door but a Garda. He was young man with neat brown hair, distinctively high cheekbones and crystal clear blue eyes. He was early thirties and tall.
‘Hello there Mrs. O’Shea-how are you?’
‘Ah, its yourself Cian-ah I can’t complain really…will you come in for a cup of tea?’..
‘No thanks..I can’t stay…I noticed there was a car parked outside so I just wanted to make sure everything was ok. We’ve had a few burglaries in the area the past few weeks’.
“Ah, sure don’t I know myself. Mr. And Mrs. Rahman having their jewels stolen and them only being here in Ireland a matter of weeks-absolute shambles so it is. Oh……and the car would be my grandsons..him and his boyfriend ‘’
Ciaran did not look overly convinced.
‘Ah, I see…………….are you sure everything is ok Mrs……maybe you can give me a signal if its not’
Mary laughed.
“Ah would you give over Cian I’m grand…sure you can come in and meet them if your so worried’
Cian glanced over his shoulder at the mouldy walls and grimaced.
‘No, I should be going….but call us if theres anything at all-you have my personal mobile’
Cian returned to his car and drove off. Mary closed the door behind him and returned to the living room where Keith and Gary were sitting in an awkward silence.
‘Hes a handsome young man that fella…think he might be gay yeno.’
Chapter 3
For the next few days the three of them spent most of their time sitting around the TV drinking tea and eating biscuits. Mary clearly enjoyed having other people around and when she wasn’t sitting around the TV herself she was in the kichen making dinner and talking away (mostly to herself). Keith and Gary were both tense although they did their best not to show it. They hoped that they were far enough into the countryside and away from prying eyes that Padraigwouldn’t be able to track them down. They had no real plan for what to do if he did. On the 3rd morning Keith woke up later than usual-around 9am. As musty and old fashioned as the house was Mary made the beds very comfortable. He went down the stairs expecting another day of watching TV, eating biscuits and waiting. When he got downstairs he was suprised to see Gary sitting at the dinner table drawing a picture. He glanced over his shoulder.
‘Oh my god’..
It was the most beautiful drawing he had ever seen. It was cottage-somewhere in the countryside with flowers all around it. There was a gate at the front and paved walkway up to the door. There was mountains in the background as well as fields of sheep and cows. There were intricate details throughout. It almost looked like a black and white photograph.
‘Thats amazing Gary’
Gary shrugged sheepishly and continued to draw adding details to the sheep.
‘I never knew you were an artist.’
‘I’m not” Gary replied.
Keith sat down at the table and watched Gary draw. After a while he spoke-checking first to see where Mary was. He could see that she was outside in the garden hanging cloths on a washing line.
‘Why do you do what you do….I mean all the criminal stuff……..?’
‘I don’t know…..I just do…’ Gary replied reddening slightly-a little taken aback by the question.
‘i mean…….you’re not a bad guy Gary and…..you’re talented’ said Keith gesturing towards the picture Gary was drawing
Gary went red in the face but there was a definite hint of a smile. Gary wasn’t used to getting compliments from anyone that wasn’t his grandmother.
Gary paused before answering.
‘I….don’t know. My Da worked in ,…..yeno…..dodgy stuff so I guess I sort of felt I had to follow in his footsteps. Besides…..my parents would have laughed at me if I told them i wanted to become an artist or the likes of that…..’
He laughed before continuing
‘Gary O’Shea…………the new Vincent Van Gogh……get your head out of the clouds you good for nothing toerag my Da would say’
There was anger in his voice as he said these words. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek and he wiped it away with the back of his hand trying to gather himself. Afterall men like Gary weren’t meant to cry.
Keith paused to think for a moment. He was slightly uncomfortable and taken aback by this show of emotion from Gary.
‘My father was never the most emotional or sentimental man. Us accountants rarely are to be honest. Anyway, about 45 years ago I had a tough day at school. Couple of lads made fun of me because I collected model figures. I used to dress them up and paint them. I believe the word ‘fag’ was used. I I came in the door in tears and intent on throwing away my collection of model figures. He seen me and took me aside having seen how upset I was. I was expecting a lecture on the important of staying strong and disciplined. Anyway..I told him what happened and what I planned to do, He looked at me dead in the eye and he said ‘You will never be true to yourself unless you are doing what you love and you should never be afraid to be true to yourself. I still wonder to this day whether he was was just talking about the model figures…….or the whole gay thing. Sometimes I like to think that this was his way of saying he was ok with it.’
‘So you are actually gay?” Gary asked.
Keith smiled. ‘Yes. Gary, I am. Credit to your Granny-she could tell right away ‘
Gary looked awkward and shifted in his chair. ‘yeah, about that…I know Granny thinks we’re a couple but…..i’m actually straight. I’ve no problem with gay thing at all though. In fact I’d prefer if you kept me being straight to yourself. It would break her heart if she found out’
Keith stifled a laugh. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t out you as being straight’.
‘Thank christ’ said Gary. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
‘Yep” Keith replied.
“Why do you want to die?’
Keith paused for a moment. He hadn’t expected such an invasive question from Gary. In truth, there was nothing to hide.
‘I don’t know really. I guess I’m just finished. I’ve done everything i want to do. I’ve seen the world and I thats really all I ever wanted to do…..I mean not the whole world literally but you know what I mean’
Gary looked confused.
‘What do you mean you’re finished?That doesn’t make any sense. Theres much for to life then just travelling the world’
‘Not to me’ Keith replied staring down at the tiled floor.
‘What about love?……’ He paused to think for a moment but there was an energy and passion through which he was talking that Keith was taken aback by. ‘…..what age are you anyway….60?’
‘62’ replied Keith.
‘For fuck sake Keith you’ve got another 20 years at least. Look, I’m not the most successful, the most intelligent or good looking……..i’m not the most anything really… bad luck is always around the corner for me…….but you know what?Ifucking love living. I love waking up in the morning and having a cup of tea with my sister. I love the sounds of the birds signing when i take the dog for a walk…..I also love the dog, Mollie. I love drawing…..I love food….as you can see’ gesturing towards his considerable stomach before continuing ‘I know i won’t have a long life…..herditrary heart condition….but I’m going to love every moment of it while I’m still here and I think its kind of stupid you don’t do the same Keith’.
Keith had no idea how to respond to this. This was a man who had pointed a gun at his head (albeit under instruction) less than 24 hours ago. Now he was giving him a motivational speech. He hadn’t even expected such words from Gary. Before he could issue a response there was a loud knock on the door. Keith and Gary looked at each other nervously. Mary was still outside hanging out washing
‘You get that, I’ll get the gun from upstairs’
Keith would have been uneasy about answering the door at a stranger’s house at the best of times. The fact that the man at the other side of the door would likely be holding a gun and intent on killing both him and Gary certainly exacerbated matters. He first went to the window in the sitting room to check who the person knocking was. He was expecting to see a well built gruff looking man with tattoos. Instead, he saw a smiling young blonde woman wearing a t-shirt with ‘Blazers curtains and blinds’ written on it. It was just a saleswoman. He breathed a sigh of relief before going into the hall and opening the old wooden door. Before he could utter a word, the young woman reached out a hand enthusiastically and spoke.
‘Hello sir, and how are you today?’
‘I’m…….ok’
‘Well that’s just wonderful to hear-I’m Catherine Murphy from Blazers curtains and blinds. We’ve got a wonderful offer at the moment’
She had an exaggerated smile on her face and Keith sensed she that persona was somewhat false. He was about to answer her when Mary appeared over his shoulder.
‘Oh yes, we’ve been needing curtains for ages, come on in love’
Keith felt helpless. Catherine stepped in still beaming.
‘The ones in the sitting room are looking horrendous’
She gestured for Catherine to come with her and went into the living room. Catherine’s smile faded slightly as she looked around at the dusty old home.
‘Sorry i know its in need of a bit of clean…’ she said waving her hand around the living room. She grabbed the curtain with her hand and held it up to Catherine-these were installed back in 58 I believe’
Catherine grimaced at the curtains before a bright but rather false smile returned to her face.
“Well, don’t worry a bit, I’ve got a heap of options hear in the binder’.
Keith felt it was safe enough to leave the two women to hash it out over the curtains and went into the kitchen where he found Gary with a gun in his hand and once again sweating profusely.
‘Well?’ asked Gary.
‘It’s just a curtain lady, we’re grand for the moment’
Gary let out a sigh of relief, lent down and put his hands on his knees.
‘Thank fuck for that’
They were both about to sit down at the little kitchen table when they heard Marys voice from the sitting room.
‘Keith, Gary, Catherine thinks we might benefit from a mans perspective on the colour of the curtains’ called out Mary from the sitting room.
Gary sighed but said ‘no harm I guess’ and walked into sitting room closely followed by Keith who thought it would be best to be as close as possible to the man with the gun. As they entered the living room they could hear Mary whisper (quite loudly) to Catherine that Keith and Gary were gay and so would understand curtains and what colour and texture they should be.
‘Well’ said Gary “what are the choices?’
At these words Catherine reached for her binder but instead of pulling out samples of diffferent curtain types and colours she pulled out a large pistol and pointed at the two men.
“Your choices are you put your hands up or you fucking die……….and you can hand over that gun-do you thinking I’m fucking blind……and you…you old hag get over there with those numpties before I blow your brains out’’
Mary tutted as if somebody had just placed a cup of tea down on a coffee table without using a coaster.
‘I should have known you knew nothing about curtains……recommending lilac for this room..’
She shook her head as she joined Gary and Keith.
‘Throw the gun over to me and no funny business’
Gary did as he was told.
They were now weaponless and no way of contacting anyone for help. Just as they were beginning to think that things couldn’t possibly get any worse they heard a voice from behind them.
‘Hello gents-I see you’ve met my wife. Shes got a fine shot with that thing I’ll tell ya. Knows nothing about curtains mind. ’
The man smirked and winked at Catherine. It was a smirk that Gary recognised all too well. It was Padraig. He was tall man of about 40 with jet black shoulder length hair. He was carrying a large rifled with both his hands.
‘And who is this fine young woman we have here?’ said Podrig looking at Mary
‘You leave her out of this’ Gary said angrily.
‘Mary O’Shea, lovely to meet you’
Padraig smirked
‘Such a lovely lady, its a pity her brains are going to be coating the not so lovely carpet in a few minutes’.
He turned to Gary
‘you know how much trouble you’re causing don’t you?’.
He pulled out his phone and showed him the homepage of RTE News. The main headline read ‘Manhunt on the way after suspected kidknapping of respected Dublin accountant’. Padraig turned his phone to himself and read directly from the article
‘Gardai believe the infamous criminal Padraig McManus may be involved…..i’m just fucking out of trouble and now the feckers are on my back again……all because of you you useful fucking gobshite’.
His eyes were ice blue and fierce. A scowl had taken over his face but his signature smirk soon returned.
‘but alas…….these are temporary problems……..Catherine why don’t you do the honours………just the accountant fella and the old wan mind….i’m gonna keep Gary for myself..’
Catherine smiled contentedly
‘Certainly sir, with pleasure’.
She raised her gun and pointed it at Mary’s head.
‘Don’t you fucking dare you bitch’ screamed Gary.
‘Hush now Gary’ said Podraig ‘Your time will come soon enough…. but first you’re gonna have to wait..’
Podraig cut of mid-sentence as something outside of the window caught his eye.
‘Who the fuck is that?’ he said pointing.
There was suddenly a sense of panic in his voice. Keith turned his head and briefly saw neatly cut blond hair and a clean-shaven young face. He recognised him as the young Gardai who had called to the door earlier. Padraig stuffed his gun inside his jacket and instructed Catherine to do the same.
‘I don’t think hes seen us yet….you stay here and watch these and I’ll deal with him’.
Padraig left to open the door just as the Garda arrived at it. Inside the sitting room Mary had put up her hand. Catherine, slightly confused said
‘What?’.
Mary responded ‘Missus, I need to use the ladies room’.
‘You’re gonna have to wait’ Catherine said.
‘You don’t want a mess do you?I’m an old lady afterall’. Catherine grimaced slightly but said ‘fine but hurry up and no funny business-I don’t want to hear a peep’’. Mary hurried out of the living room into the kitchen towards the bathroom. Outside, Ketih could hear Padraig engaging the young Garda in conversation.
‘ You know Garda, its great to see the police force finally taking the health and safety of the older population seriously’ Padraig said with the same cocky voice he had used before.
‘Thank you sir….can I check what your relationship is to Ms. O’Shea?’
‘My great aunt Garda but really she was always more like a grandmother to me and I a grandson to her’
‘Her actual grandson……Gary I belive his name is here too I believe…Mary mentiioned that was his car there.’ he said pointing at the red Ford Fiesta.
‘Yes…..our Gary…a hopeless case if you don’t mind me being frank…only ever turns up when he needs something….never really been there for her’
The Garda got his notebook from his pocket ‘and what, might I ask was he looking for this time?’
Padraig chuckled ‘Why money of course….Padraig could never hold down a job and to make matters worse hes been a gambling addict for years…..its a wond..’ For the second time in a matter of minutes Padraig was cut off mid sentencethis time by a loud bang of metal and a thud.
‘What was that?’ the Garda asked.
‘Oh, probably nothing…let me check’ Padraig did a poor job of hiding the panic in his voice.
‘I’ll join you’ the Garda siad.
‘No need Garda, I’m sure its just..’ but is was too late. The Garda and followed him into the sitting room.
‘Fucking hell’ Padraig said as he entered the room.
Catherine was lying face down on the floor completely motionless , her gun still in a now limp hand. Over her stood Mary holding a frying pan above her head. Keith and Gary stood awestruck at the scene before them.
‘What on earth is going on’ demanded the Garda looking from person to person wondering who to suspect of foul play.
Ketih looked at Padraig who paused for a moment as if contemplating whether to conjure up a story for the Garda or…..just a more direct, violent route. He lifted his gun, evidently choosing the latter option but the momentary indecision proved costly as Gary pounced for his gun knocking Padraig to the ground in the process. The two struggled on the ground for a time and before Keith or the Garda could intervene Gary threw the gun aside and lifted his clenched right fist and struck Padraig with such ferocity that the impact of the punch rendered him completely still upon impact. His arms flayed to the side and his face went from red hot with anger to pale white. Gary knelt over him, Padraig’s shirt still gripped in his left hand and his right still clenched and shaking.
The young Garda was clearly used to chasing down overdue parking tickets and the odd unarmed burglary. His eyes betrayed his lack of experience and age. Nevertheless, he managed to gather himself. He turned to look down at Gary.
‘Before I demand an explanation I should probably thank you for saving my life.’
He reached his hand out to Gary who took it, stood up and shook the Garda’s hand.
‘The names Cian by the way’ the Garda said.
‘Gary’ Gary responded.
‘So, what exactly happened here Gary?’
At this moment Keith decided to speak up.
‘I can explain all of this Gar..’ Keith was cut off abruply by Gary.
‘No…..you should know the truth’
Gary looked from Ruairi to Keith and eventually to his grandmother.
‘I’m sorry Granny…..really I am’. He then begun to tell the entire story and almost the entire story was true. Gary left out the part about Keith paying the gang to have himself killed and instead invented a story that Keith ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time at an armed robbery.
Ruairi let him finish whilst keeping an eye on the unconsious Padraig and Catherine. When Gary had finished he reached for his walkie talkie and said ‘I need some backup at Yellow Iris Cottage’. Cian then knelt down beside the still motionless Padraig and felt for a pulse.
‘I suppose we should check they are still alive’
He moved over to Catherine and did the same.
‘Both alive….for the moment anyway’. Cian turned to Gary ‘I’m sorry but I’m sure you can understand that I’m going to have to turn you in’.
Gary shook his head and responded ‘I know……don’t worry.’
‘Look i should let the chief know about some more of the details and maybe ask them to send some medics for these guys’ said Cian before departing the room.
As soon as Cian left Gary burst into tears and hugged his grandmother. Through sobs he said ‘I’m……..so sorry………..I didn’t want to …….’ but Mary returned the hug with vigour and said ‘You know I’ll love you no matter who you are and what you do love’.
Keith stood awkwardly and in silence. Gary and Mary embraced for some time. Eventually, Gary released the hug and turned to Keith. Keith smiled slighly. ‘Thanks for leaving me out of the……story’. Garys eyes were still streaming with tears. ‘Please don’t kill yourself’ he said. Keith didn’t respondsstraight away but reached his hand out and they shook. ‘You should draw when you’re in prison……you’ve got a talent……and maybe…..give us a call when you’re out……if you think of it…..we could go for a pint or something’. Gary smiled broadly ‘Of course’ and he grabbed Keith and pulled him into a hug as sirens blared in the distance and grew closer.
As the Gardai and medics arrived Gary returned to his Grandmother ‘I’ll be out as soon as I can….I promise’. As two embraced once again Keith could hear a murmur from the floor. Padraig was rubbing his head and moaning with pain. Then, to everyones surprise he got up, looked around the room before stopping at Mary and beamed ‘MAM, its you!Can you please make me a nutella sandwich and cut it into triangles please like usual…ok love you bye..’. Padraig ran towards the door but was caught by a bemused looking Ruairi who had just entered the room in front of a dozen other officers. Two other Gardai helped Cian contain Padraig who was still grinning broadly and said ‘This is a magic houseisn’t it?’. Ruairi turned to the more senior Garda and said ‘We should probably ignore what he says from now on’.
The senior Gardai then entered into the sitting room. ‘Right, put that lunatic into the van….whats the story with the rest of them?’ he asked looking at Cian who hesitated for a moment. ‘Shes with himself’ pointing towards Catherine and then jerking his thumb towards Padraig . He then turned to Keith ‘this is the poor accountant who got kidnapped….someone get him a cup of tea and get him home’. He then turned toward Mary ‘this lovely lady is the owner of the house’ .Mary smiled warmly. ‘Tea and cake for everyone’ she said before heading to the kitchen. Finally, Cian turned to Gary ‘’and this fella………..this fella saved my life’ he paused for a few moments as if in contemplation before continuing. ‘notonly that but had he not been here in his grandmothers house when Padraig arrived with his hostage then both Keith and Mary would be dead and Padraig would have escaped’. Gary stared at Cian in shock. The senior Garda paused for a moment then said ‘why did Padraig bring Keith to some old womans house in the first place?’. ‘Well….well he thougt it was abandoned…I mean look at the place…….its a bit of a kip……..no offence Mary’ he added as Mary entered the room carrying a tray of tea and carrot cake. The Senior Garda paused again and looked around at the sitting room before shrugging his shoulders. ‘Fair enough’ he said with a sigh before turning to look at the stricken Catherine ‘Medics…make sure shes not dead then help Garda Darragh here get her in the van’ he said gesturing towards a freckled young Garda who must be even younger than Cian. The medics crowded around Catherine who was now starting to gain consciousness. The medics along with Garda Cian managed to carry Catherine, who was now cursing under her breath, out the door towards the Garda van. ‘Bye curtain lady’ said Mary who was now helping herslef to carrot cake. ‘Mmmmm very moist if I may say so myself’. As the rest of the Gardai departed, Keith, Gary, Cian and Mary were left alone in the sitting room. Cian was the first to speak ‘think we can call us even now?’ looking at Gary. Gary nodded before grabbing Cianinto a hug. ‘Yeah……thats fine……please let go of me though please’ said Cian. Gary let go and Ruairi smiled at him. ‘Pease leave this life behind you…..thats all I ask’. ‘Of course’ responded Gary. ‘I should be off now….yousestay out of trouble’ said Cian to everyone before departing.
‘So what do we do now?’ asked Gary looking at Keith and Gary. Keith paused for a moment in thought. ‘I could use a pint after all that. Is there a pub near here?’ ‘Laceys is down the road’ Gary responded..they do a nice Guiness’. ‘Oh I’ve love a shery’ piped up Mary. The three of them left the old run down house and walked towards Laceys pub. They were in silent agreement that this would not be their last drink as friends.
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