Cornally’s pub was packed to the rafters with what my dad described as every dog, duck and devil he’d ever met. To prove his point there were even a few dogs sleeping under tables. Sumo, Charlie and Walker sat together on the floor, eating free chips and staring up at the screen, lost in a game of football. Johnny J was engaged in some last-minute rehearsing behind the pub with Rich and the lads. I asked him if he was all right. He said he was and that it was good to have something to take his mind off everything.
I sat with my parents and Rachel. My mam was just delighted to have all her family together. I don’t remember the first half of the Ireland v Netherlands match. I know Ireland was 1–0 down at half-time, but I was too busy thinking about everything that could still go wrong. Every time the door opened I worried it would be the guards coming in to drag us away, but as the time passed my fears eased.
Then it happened, just after seventy minutes of play. GOAL! GOAL! GOAL!fn1 We were 1–1. Every dog, duck and devil jumped up and down and shouted, screamed, barked, cried and cheered. IRELAND, IRELAND, IRELAND! Johnny J, Rich and the lads started singing ‘Jackie’s Army’ and everyone joined in. The match ended 1–1 and we were through to the knockouts. The Irish crowd in Cornally’s pub, Dublin, watched the Irish crowd on a field in Palermo, Italy, singing and crying and the players jumping and high-fiving, and we all did the same.
Walker screamed that he’d seen his dad crying on the TV and then we all spotted him and he was bawling like a baby. ‘He’ll never live that down,’ Walker said, and in that moment I forgot about Mrs Tulsi’s illness, Auntie Alison’s arrival, the robberies, the spectre of the guards arriving at our doorsteps, the prospect of prison, how disappointed and upset my parents would be if they knew what I had done. I forgot about everything and just celebrated with everyone else in the pub, and honestly it was probably one of the best moments of my life.
When the madness died down, some of the women with small babies and younger children left and I joined my friends at a table. Rich and the lads started setting up for the gig, but Johnny J came over to us instead.
‘This is a sign,’ Walker said. ‘Everything’s going to work out.’
‘Deffo,’ Charlie said.
‘Between Ireland drawing 1–1 with the Netherlands and seeing that hummingbird – one hundred per cent,’ I said.
Johnny J clapped his hands together. ‘My mam is going to America. We’ve saved her. Thank you all. I mean it. Best friends ever,’ he said, and he raised his glass of fizzy orange and we raised ours.
‘Best friends ever,’ we all shouted, and it was brilliant.
Everyone shushed when the post-match interview came on, but Rich wanted to get the gig going.
‘Right, right, come on, Johnny J,’ he said, coming over.
Johnny J smiled at me and gave me the thumbs up. I smiled, even though I was dreading the gig. Fingers & the Fudge were better with Johnny J, but they were still terrible.
Rich ushered Johnny J to the side of the small stage. (It looked more like a large box.) Buzz clapped him on the back. Fingers handed him his guitar.
‘It’s all set up,’ he said, and Johnny J nodded. Cap pretended to be busy tapping and testing the microphone. He was clearly still annoyed that Johnny J was playing with them. When Rich turned on the actual speaker, Cap’s voice came over loud and clear. ‘Testing, one, two, three, testing.’
It was just then two policemen walked into the pub in full uniform. They looked serious, as though they were on a mission. This was it! This was the moment we’d be hauled off to jail. My fists clenched so hard I burst a few blisters. Sumo didn’t notice them, but beside me Charlie and Walker’s eyes were on sticks. Johnny J nearly dropped his guitar. The policemen looked around the pub, nodding at a few people. Then someone from the back started singing and the Garda joined in and Mr Cornally handed them both pints. We all sighed with relief. Phew. We were fine. Everything would be fine. Except it wouldn’t.