When the press discovered why we’d done what we’d done, the story just grew and grew, and within two days the Fearless Five were nearly as big as the Irish team. (Well, in one small suburb of Dublin anyway.) Reporters were knocking on our doors and photographers were sent to take our photos. In the end they took photos of our whole families and we all wore our Sunday best and everyone wanted to know how poor Vanessa Tulsi was and strangers all over the country said that they were praying for her. We got cards sent to us – most were really nice but a few mentioned we were going to hell. People we didn’t even know smiled and waved at us and gave us the thumbs up. I figured at the time that the DPP must have taken public opinion, because they closed the case very quickly and we were free!fn1
Sheila Brown decided we weren’t so bad after all when she realised that being associated with the Fearless Five was a positive thing for Walker. That was good news. It meant that Walker could hang around with us for one last summer, even if he’d forget about us when he went to his posh school.
On the day that the Irish team met the Pope my mam insisted on bringing me with her to visit Johnny J’s mam in the hospital.
‘But Johnny J’s not talking to me, Mam.’
‘Of course he is. Don’t be an eejit.’ My mam wasn’t as proud of my plan as my dad or Uncle Ted. ‘Robbery is robbery, assault is assault and battery is battery,’ she’d said after the photographer had finished taking our family photo for the paper. ‘Don’t think that you’re some hero. Good intentions or bad intentions, it doesn’t matter – a criminal is a criminal.’
I really didn’t want to go to see Johnny J’s mam. The idea scared me, but Mam gave me no choice so I went, and I’m really glad I did.
Uncle Ted was waiting in the hospital corridor.
‘How is she, Uncle Ted?’
‘Having a good day,’ he said, and my mam instantly cheered up. Johnny J was in the room with his mother.
‘Vanessa would love to see you, Jeremy,’ Uncle Ted said.
‘Why?’ I said.
‘Don’t be rude,’ my mam said.
‘She wants to thank you.’
‘Ah no, it’s OK. I’ll wait here.’ I was terrified. The last time I’d seen her she looked so sick. This time she would look paler, sicker, her veins might even be fatter, bigger. I just couldn’t bear it. I didn’t want to see her.
‘Ah no. Tell her I said she’s welcome.’ But Mam pushed me through into the room and suddenly there I was, standing in front of Mrs Tulsi and Johnny J. Mrs Tulsi was sitting propped up on a lot of pillows. She had a needle in her hand with a tube coming out of it and it was hooked up to a plastic bag of liquid hanging above her head. That made my stomach turn so I looked away. Johnny J was sitting in the chair beside her. He cast his eyes to the floor as soon as I walked in, but she smiled at me, a big warm smile, like she used to before she was sick. When she was smiling, she really didn’t look that bad at all.
‘There he is,’ she said.
‘Hiya, Mrs Tulsi.’
‘Hiya, Jeremy.’ She patted the bed. ‘Why don’t you sit here?’
I wanted to run but I didn’t. I just perched on the smallest corner of the bed. It was really uncomfortable.
‘I have a lot to thank you for,’ she said.
‘Robbing is bad,’ I said. I don’t know why I said it. I was nervous and I could hear my mam in my head, saying, ‘Don’t forget you’re not a hero – a criminal is what a criminal does.’
‘Robbing is bad,’ she agreed, ‘but bringing my son home to me is good.’
Johnny J looked up and his eyes blazed. He was still angry.
‘It was brave to risk losing your best friend to do the right thing, and even if it felt wrong, it was the right thing. I think that you are the best friend my son will ever have.’
I wanted to cry. Stop crying! Please stop crying! Johnny J looked away.
‘Now make up, the both of you,’ she said, ‘and stop all this messing.’
‘Yes, Mrs Tulsi,’ I said.
She looked at Johnny J. ‘Well?’
‘OK, Mam,’ he said.
She took a fiver out from under her pillow. ‘Go buy yourselves some ice creams, and send your mammy in to me, won’t you, Jeremy.’
‘Yes, Mrs Tulsi.’
Johnny J bought us choc ices in the hospital shop and we walked outside onto the grass and sat under a tree. We didn’t talk about Johnny J’s mam or the press attention we received, even though that was really cool. We didn’t talk about the fight and he didn’t look so angry any more. We just talked.
‘Did you hear Father Maloney is making us do penance?’ I said.
‘What kind of penance?’ Johnny J said.
‘We have to do jobs for him or something,’ I said.
‘What?’
‘Yeah, Mam and Sheila Brown organised it for all of us. Mam said it will teach us that good people do good things. Sheila Brown says it will look good for the papers.’
‘All of us.’
‘Yeah.’
‘I might not be here. Auntie Alison is determined to take me to England.’
‘That’s not happening,’ I said.
He shook his head from side to side and he battled to suck back a bulging tear. I looked away.
‘This is your home,’ I said, looking up into the big blue sky. ‘It’s where you belong, with Sumo, Walker, me and …’
‘… Charlie?’ he said, and I nodded.
‘And Charlie,’ I said, and he smiled.
‘Anyway, what kind of jobs?’ he asked.
‘I dunno – cleaning the church, helping auld ones and the choir.’
‘Oh no.’
‘I know.’
‘This is going to be really terrible,’ he said.
‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘Are you joining Rich’s band?’
‘Would you mind if I did?’
‘No, I’d like it,’ I said, and I was telling the truth. I saw how happy Johnny J was on the stage. I wanted him to be happy.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. I was thinking of managing it,’ I said.
‘No way?’ He sounded happy about that.
‘I think I’d be a good manager,’ I said.
‘You’d be deadly,’ he said.
‘Cool.’
‘Maybe things won’t be so bad after all,’ he said, but then his eyes darkened and I knew he was thinking about his mam.
‘Ireland made it into the quarter-finals of the World Cup, so anything can happen. Right?’
‘That’s true,’ he said. ‘Father Maloney described it as a miracle when he was visiting my mam.’
‘There you go,’ I said, and he smiled. Miracles happen. ‘No matter what, everything is going to be OK.’
We were facing one last summer together before everything would possibly change. I promised myself to relax and not to worry so much. Of course there were still things to worry about, mainly the Auntie Alison problem. Uncle Ted had a battle on his hands.
Father Maloney was making us do acts of penance. Slightly worrying. Rich was being really nice to me. Definitely worrying. We were known as the Fearless Five now, and everywhere we went people knew us. That could cause problems. How can we have fun if everyone is watching? I’d just promised my very best friend that, no matter what, everything was going to be OK. I needed a new plan.
A day later Ireland lost to Italy in the quarter-finals and the dream of Ireland winning the World Cup died, but the country still celebrated. The boys in green came home to a heroes’ welcome, and it didn’t matter that they lost, it only mattered that they’d tried. When my mam told me that I had to spend a whole day scraping wax from the floor of the Holy Mary Mother of Sorrows Church, I told her that maybe it didn’t matter that my friends and I did something bad, it only mattered that we’d tried to do something good. She thought about it for less than a second. ‘No! It matters. Now get scraping.’
And so our time as wanted criminals came to an end, but we still had a whole summer ahead to laugh, cry, win, lose and love. You see, even if we couldn’t save Johnny J’s mam, maybe we could still save Johnny J and Uncle Ted from Auntie Alison and England. Our summer was just getting started. We had a band to break out, a family to save and a really annoying priest to shake off, and I had a new plan. But that’s a whole other story …