Jimmy got a call from Dónal the next day. He was needed in the studio.
‘Sure,’ said Jimmy, checking his watch. ‘What’s up?’
‘Ah, it’s a bit of a … well, not a problem exactly … but will you come in?’
‘What? Man, what’s going on?’
‘Just come in and we can have a chat about it. That all right?’
‘I’ll be there in half an hour.’
Jimmy caught a taxi into town and pulled up outside Sin Bin. He trotted up the stairs and opened the door to the studio. Sparky was there as always, headphones on and pushing sliders around on his mixing desk. Dónal was there too, drinking coffee and taking notes on something.
‘Lads,’ said Jimmy, taking off his coat.
‘Howya Jimmy,’ said Dónal. ‘Thanks for coming in.’
‘No problem. How’s Sparky?’
‘Grand Jimmy. Just getting a bit done on the Leet album.’
‘Right. So what’s the story Dónal?’
‘Yeah, eh listen Jimmy, let’s sit down out there.’
‘Grand.’
Once they were sitting opposite each other on the couch, Dónal put his hands together in front of his chest.
‘Right. The thing is, Jimmy, the album is going great guns.’
‘I know. It’s great.’
‘Yeah. Except there’s a lot of people out there who are wondering if it’s going to be the first and last one from The Grove.’
Jimmy shrugged.
‘Everyone knows what happened to Aesop.’
‘Yeah, I know. But things move on, y’know?’
‘What things?’
‘Everything. Senturion and their US partner have been at me all week. Seems they misread your potential. That’s what they said. Fuckin’ eejits. Anyway, the fans are screaming for you and Senturion are screaming now as well.’
‘For what?’
‘A tour.’
‘A tour? How are we meant to tour? There’s no band, Dónal.’
‘I know that. And that’s kind of the point. Look, in one way, The Grove is Jimmy Collins, right?’
‘No. It’s not, Dónal. It’s Aesop as well.’
‘But I’m just saying that you’re the songwriter, the front man … all that.’
‘Yeah. So what?’
‘So, if … and I’m just saying if here … you had another drummer and another bass player, then it wouldn’t be too bad, would it?’
‘It also wouldn’t be The Grove, Dónal, would it? It’d be me and some pair of cunts.’
‘Well … right. But that’s not how some people see it.’
‘Fuck some people. How do you see it?’
‘I’m just telling you what’s going on, Jimmy. That’s my job. I’m with you no matter what. Whatever you want to do, that’s what we do.’
‘Well that’s good. Because I’m doing fuck all without Aesop and Aesop can do fuck all at the moment.’
‘Okay, okay. That’s fine Jimmy. But this thing will get cold on us, right? That’s what will happen. We’ll have to start again.’
‘Then we start again.’
‘Right. So … and you’re going to do nothing until Aesop’s better?’
‘I’m not doing gigs. We’ll just write new material and wait for him.’
‘Okay. But …’
‘Dónal, do you know what Aesop’s doing right now? While we’re sitting here shooting the breeze, I mean. He’s doing what he’s been doing for weeks. Staring at his bad hand and wondering if it’ll ever hold a drumstick properly and smack a drum ever again. He’s doing exercises eight hours a day or more, and he’s getting there, but the physio reckons he could be a year away from a gig. At least. And that’s assuming he keeps getting better, something no one’s giving any fucking guarantees about, by the way.’
‘I know that Jimmy. I know …’
‘And you want me to tell him I can’t wait? That we’re firing him and carrying on? The only thing in his fucking life, the thing that gives him a reason to wake up in the morning and not throw in the fucking towel as he’s sweating buckets lifting weights and squeezing rubber fucking balls, and you want me to take it away from him? Me bollix, Dónal.’
Dónal held up his hands.
‘Jesus, Jimmy, I’m your manager and I’m just telling you what’s going on around you, okay? But we’re going to play this your way no matter what happens.’
‘Glad to hear it Dónal.’
‘Okay. So … would you consider a solo tour?’
‘What?’
‘Just you. Acoustic. A few small venues. Just to keep your face in the news while he’s getting better?’
Jimmy sighed and thought about it for a bit.
‘Acoustic?’
‘Yeah. Just you on the stage. What do you think?’
‘Ah … Jaysis. Look … I’ll have to think about it, Dónal.’
‘That’s all I’m saying, Jimmy. It’s just business. But The Grove can wait. Forget I even said that.’
‘I’ll talk to you about it again, right? The fucking last thing I want right now is to get up there without Aesop and start doing all those songs. He nearly fucking died man. He nearly …’
‘I know, Jimmy.’
‘And getting back into it is the only thing that’s keeping him fired up now. If he hears that I’m off gigging without him …’
‘Okay Jimmy. No problem. Really. Look, don’t worry about hiring anyone for The Grove, okay? But maybe you can talk to Aesop about the other thing. Just to see what he thinks. Yeah?’
‘I don’t know man.’
‘Just mention it to him. A couple of sets for the punters and the press. Let them know we’re making progress. He can be in the audience if he likes. Mug it up for the girls and all, y’know? He’d love that.’
‘I’ll talk to him.’
*
Trish’s face was a mixture of disbelief and horror.
‘You can’t go back there, Norman. Jesus. You can’t …’
‘I can’t not go back, Trish. Listen to me, I’m after realising that I’ll never be able to love you properly until I get rid of this thing that eats at me. The only way I can do that is go back and … finish it.’
‘Finish it? Murder people? Become like them?’
‘Stop, Trish. I never said that would happen, did I?’
‘Why are you going then? And what about your Mam? This will kill her!’
‘Mam has always known this would happen. I think we both tried to convince ourselves it wouldn’t, but fuck it Trish this is who I am.’
‘Norman, will you listen to me for Christ sake? Look what happened to you the last time you were there. Look what they did to you. They nearly killed you! And you were a bloody soldier then. You haven’t been … training, or … or … and now you want to go back?’
‘But they didn’t kill me, Trish. They just fucked me up, didn’t they? Christ, you know they did more than anyone after what I just told you.’
‘And … and you have to go now? Today? Jesus, why didn’t we talk about this yesterday or … or … how long have you been planning all this?’
‘I only just decided yesterday that I need to go as soon as possible.’
‘But …’
‘Trish, I’m not going to be gone long. A couple of months probably. I’ll come back then and this thing will be over.’
‘Norman, this thing will be over if you get on that plane. Jesus, this is fucking madness!’
‘Listen to me, Trish. I do love you. You know that, all right?’
‘How is this love?’
‘I’m doing it now, so that it doesn’t fuck everything up later. I’m doing it for us as much as anything.’
‘You’re not doing any bloody thing for me. Afghanistan, Norman? And what’s going on in Afghanistan at the moment. A hippie festival? They’re fighting over there, for God sake.’
‘And I’m a soldier.’
‘You’re not a bloody soldier any more, Norman!’
‘No Trish. I never stopped being one.’
‘Jesus …’
Trish looked at him through her tears and didn’t know him.
‘Why?’ she whispered, shaking her head.
‘I have to. I’m so fucking sorry. But … I have to.’
‘Get yourself … killed?’
‘That’s not going to happen. When I come back, we can … it’ll be finished. I promise.’
She could barely speak now, or see him through her seeping eyes.
‘Norman …’
He shook his head, and moved towards her, to hold her.
‘There’s no other way to make it stop. You’ve no idea what it feels like. This anger. It’s like a fucking ball of rage in my stomach and it’s there all the time. I can’t do it any more.’
She opened her mouth but then she closed it again. Her hands didn’t go around him as he hugged her. They stayed pressed on her belly as the rest of her reeled in hurt and confusion. What if she told him and he went anyway? What would that tell her about him? Something she didn’t want to know.
So she just sat, surrounded by his huge arms, and cried.
‘I need to pack and get to the airport,’ he said then.
*
Jimmy went to visit Aesop later in the afternoon. He opened the door to find him tapping out a Led Zeppelin drum solo on one hand.
‘Howya Aesop.’
‘Oh, hiya Jimmy. What’s the story?’
Jimmy looked again and frowned.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Just doing a bit of “Moby Dick”.’
‘No, I mean, what’s that on your face?’
‘Oh. Sparky was in yesterday. He took a look at me chart and went mad when he saw the drugs I was taking. Sparky’s your only man for drugs, I’m telling you.’
‘But …’
‘He said I didn’t need all the painkillers. I should just put two teabags over me eyes for the headaches. That’s what he uses, he says, when the voices start annoying him. So I’m giving it a go.’
‘Right. Is it working?’
‘I don’t know. I only just started.’
‘Aesop …’
‘Jimmy, I need to get out of here. I’m going mad.’
‘But you can’t walk properly yet,’ said Jimmy.
‘I’m grand,’ said Aesop. ‘It’s just a bit of a limp.’
‘A limp? You’re like bleedin’ Quasimodo trying to get around.’
‘Piss off. Anyway, don’t I have me wheelchair?’
‘And how are you going to … Aesop, will you ever take the fucking teabags off. This is stupid.’
‘But Jimmy, Sparky says they work wonders.’
‘For fuck sake Aesop, you’re s’posed to make tea with them first.’
‘What?’
‘He didn’t mean … nothing. Look, just take them off, will you? You’re a fuckin’ eejit.’
Aesop took the teabags off his eyes and blinked at Jimmy.
‘Would they not burn you if you’re after making the tea with them?’
‘You wait for them to get cold, don’t you?’
‘Ah, I don’t know, Jimmy. Are you taking the piss?’
‘Jesus … are you? Listen, Aesop, how are you meant to get around your house in a wheelchair?’
‘I can get around grand. I only need the chair for long distances.’
‘The doctor says you’ve to stay another couple of weeks.’
‘The doctor can pull the plum off himself for all I give a shite.’
‘Ungrateful bastard. Aesop, they’ve done a great job looking after you. Dr Phelan said you got a terrible bang on the head.’
‘Did he? Jaysis, he’s a great doctor isn’t he? What gave it away? The fucking big car-shaped dent in me skull, was it?’
‘It’s just another couple of weeks. You need the rest anyway.’
‘All I’ve bleedin’ done is rest! And I’m getting very fucking tired of it.’
‘And who’s going to drag you in and out of here every day for your physio?’
‘You.’
‘Me bollocks.’
‘Why not? Some mate you are. I’m sick!’
‘Look, just stay put for another little while.’
‘But Jimmy …’
‘Christ, I think it was better when you were in a coma, you know that?’
‘C’mere, how’s Norman?’ said Aesop.
‘He’s grand.’
‘How’s the bodyguarding business going for him this weather? Does he need any references?’
‘I think he’s back at the gardening.’
‘Poor flowers. I hope they have insurance.’
Jimmy noticed Aesop flexing his left wrist. He had to use it for everything now and it got sore.
‘How is it?’
‘Ah, it’s all right. Nearly getting used to writing and everything with this hand now. I’m going to end up as … what do you call it?’
‘Ambidextrous?’
‘No. No, I mean … when you can write with both hands.’
‘Ambidextrous.’
‘No, Jimmy. You know the word I want …’
‘Fucking ambidextrous is the word you want, Aesop.’
‘I don’t think so, Jimmy.’
‘Jesus. Do you want a glass of water?’
‘Nah, I’m grand. Unless you’ve a pint in your pocket, do you?’
‘No.’
‘Any chance you could run over to Beaumont House and get me one?’
‘Not unless the doctor says you can have one.’
‘He’s not the boss of me.’
‘Afraid he is, man.’
‘I’d kill for a nice creamy pint.’
‘Won’t be long now. Actually, I had a few nice ones with Shiggy yesterday.’
‘Yeah. He was in this morning. It’s shite to see him go.’
‘Yeah. Well, he stayed as long as he could.’
Jimmy looked at the iPod that Aesop had next to him in the bed.
‘Need any more music?’
‘Nah. I’ve loads of stuff on there. Y’know something, when I was in a coma I kept imagining I heard fucking Bronski Beat in me head. It was driving me mad.’
‘Yeah. That was me.’
‘What?’
‘I told them to play that.’
‘What?! You torturing cunt! And me not able to move …’
‘We were trying to wake you up! I knew that …’
‘Bastard! I thought I was after dying and going to hell and this was me punishment for all the gee. Fuck you anyway, Jimmy. I’ve been nearly afraid to go asleep ever since, in case it starts up again. You’re a gee-bag of the highest order, Collins. I’ll bleedin’ get you for that. You know that gay one they do?’
‘Were they not all gay?’
‘Yeah. Well thanks to you I’m waking up in the mornings tapping away to the fucking bass line on me leg. I have a reputation, so I do.’
‘I won’t tell anyone. Shut up whinging a minute, will you, and tell me how you are anyway.’
‘How I am?’
‘Well … just for instance, like … you’ve barely mentioned Helen’s name since the accident.’
‘Ah, right. Only a matter of time, wasn’t it Jimmy? I was wondering what was keeping you.’
‘None of my business, man. I was just wondering how you’re getting on.’
‘None of your business my arse, Jimmy! You’ve only been fizzing at the bunghole waiting for me to spill me guts about that, look at you.’
‘I haven’t!’
‘Yeah, right. Well anyway, what do you want to know?’
‘Are you all right? I mean, I know you really liked her …’
‘Yeah. I did.’
‘And?’
‘And I got the red card, didn’t I? So I got shitfaced and rode Jessie out of badness.’
‘That wasn’t very nice.’
‘Jimmy, I was hurt, sad and very fucking drunk. When you’re like that, it’s just like Shakespeare said, y’know? Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow …’
‘Shakespeare, yeah …’
‘And anyway, I can’t tell you how nice it was Jimmy, I was that drunk. But if you mean that it was a prick of a thing to do, then yeah. It was. Riding Helen’s mate … stupid.’
‘Well, she didn’t have to …’
‘Ah, what was she s’posed to do, Jimmy? Once I started going for it, like. She’s only human.’
‘So is Helen.’
‘She’s not man. That was the problem. She was … something else. Really.’
‘But you’re okay now?’
‘Yeah. Well, no. I mean, I haven’t had a bounce since Jessie. Can you believe that?’
‘Really? No nurses or anything?’
‘No. And it’s not for the want of a fucking horn either, I can tell you that for nothing.’
‘Lovely. So, why then?’
‘Ah … just … there’s a difference between the sex I’ve been getting since we got famous and whatever I felt with Helen. I haven’t been able to … get it right in me head yet. Not that me head was a hundred percent anyway, with Bronski Beat milling through it, ye bastard. But anyway, yeah, I just felt something with her. And it was nothing to do with riding I don’t think. But it was really good. Until it wasn’t.’
‘Love?’
‘If that’s love, man, keep it the fuck away from me. Love gave me brain damage, didn’t it?’
‘Aesop, running forehead-first into a fucking Volvo gave you brain damage.’
‘Whatever. One thing led to the other.’
‘So this is a whole new sensitive Aesop in our midst?’
‘I don’t know about that, Jimmy. Let’s just say that once I start … eh … dating again, I’ll have an idea what I might be looking for.’
‘I s’pose that’s something.’
‘Yeah. But I haven’t been able to … y’know … just forget about her.’
‘That’s normal. Fuck sake, look who you’re talking to.’
‘Yeah, but you’re a homo, Jimmy. I’m not used to it.’
‘You’ll get used to it.’
‘I don’t want to, man. I want Helen and all the shit that goes with her out of my head so I can just …’
‘Move on?’
‘Yeah! Move on, play on, ride on … get me fuckin’ life back, y’know? I need to get out of here and up on a stage so I can play my bollocks off and score some chick and pretend that none of this ever happened.’
Jesus, thought Jimmy. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to talk to Aesop about what he’d come to talk to him about.
‘What’s wrong?’ said Aesop.
‘What?’
‘What’s with the head on you?’
‘Oh. Nothing. Just …’
‘Just what?’
‘Look man, I was talking to Dónal and he … well first of all he just mentioned that Senturion are mad for us to tour.’
‘Jesus. Aren’t we all?’
‘Yeah. Well, apparently, they want me to get a couple of session musicians and tour the album.’
Aesop just nodded, but he seemed to shrink a little in the bed.
‘Of course I told him to tell them to fuck off.’
Nothing.
‘And then he said I might just do a couple of acoustic gigs. Small ones, y’know? Just around town or whatever. Say hello to the punters.’
‘Right,’ said Aesop. His face was blank. ‘What did you say?’
‘Well, I told him I’d talk to you about that.’
‘Why do you need to talk to me?’
‘Because … well, I don’t want you thinking of me up there doing it without you.’
‘But I can’t do it.’
‘I know. But even an acoustic gig … I’d feel shite knowing that I was only doing it because your arm and leg are fucked.’
Aesop nodded again and looked over at the other side of the room for a minute.
‘Fuck it,’ he said then. ‘Just do it, Jimmy.’
‘What? Ah no …’
‘Jimmy, listen to me. I want nothing more than to do a gig. Nothing. It’s the only thing I see myself doing when I get out of here. The only thing I give a fuck about because I know that once I do it, then all this shit is over. Okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘So … the next best thing would be to see you do one.’
‘Aesop …’
Aesop’s bad hand came up and held Jimmy’s arm.
‘Not bad,’ said Jimmy, looking at it.
‘Yeah, well if I could give you a decent slap on the head, I would. Do the fucking gig, Jimmy.’
Jimmy nodded, still looking at Aesop’s hand. It was great to see some strength in it, but he was a long way off his Comeback Special. What would The Grove be by then? Something they just trotted out of The Vault during nostalgia week on MTV?
‘Are you sure?’ he said.
‘Jimmy do the gig. Just one, even. See what it feels like.’
Jimmy nodded and looked down at Aesop’s hand on his arm again, the pencil and pad where he’d been writing his name over and over, the little rubber ball for squeezing on his lap, the half-kilo weight on the bedside table. Aesop was right.
Just then Bronski Beat came on the iPod. The bass intro to ‘Smalltown Boy’. They both looked at each other and laughed. Jimmy spotted Aesop’s hand tapping away on his arm.
‘Look at that!’ he said, pointing.
‘Oh God. See what you’ve done to me, Collins? See what’s after happening to me?’
‘I’m putting this on the website, man.’
‘You said you wouldn’t tell!’
‘Me bollix, Aesop. The world needs to know that the brain damage is permanent.’
‘Bastard!’
Aesop picked up the remote and flicked forward to a Buzzcocks song.
‘Ah, that’s better,’ he said, putting his head back onto the pillow.
‘You’re really cool with me doing a gig, Aesop?’ said Jimmy.
Aesop sighed.
‘Yeah. Fuck it. I’ll be back up there with you one day, Jimmy. Keep the stage warmed up for me.’
‘It won’t freak you out to see me up there in front of the punters?’
‘I’ll get up and give them a wave. Show them how I’m getting on. I’ll be grand.’
*
Norman slung his bag onto his shoulder. Trish had two fistfuls of his coat, but she wasn’t pulling him back. She just wanted to feel him there with her. He walked out the door with her and they stood in the small garden of her house.
‘I’ve to go,’ he said. ‘The plane …’
‘Norman … there’s … I …’
‘Yeah?’
She paused, biting her lip. Then she just shook her head, hair sticking to her soaked face, and let go of his coat.
He walked down the driveway to the waiting taxi.
*
Jimmy walked out of Beaumont Hospital slowly, not even noticing the bustle in the lobby, the crying of a child, the pale sun in the sky. He stood just outside and sat down on a bench to light up a smoke. The pox of it all was that Aesop might never be the drummer he was before the accident. And Shiggy was gone. That Grove was over. He had to think of it like that. Maybe it was time for him to move on, do this gig. He thought of Aesop back in his room, the only thing in his head being the day he played again and always the crushing feeling somewhere else in him that it might never come. That would be the worst thing that could happen to someone like Aesop. He needed that crowd like other people needed air.
Jimmy closed his eyes and imagined a solo gig. He could see the hollering crowd, hear the thundering echoes of his guitar, feel the heat of the lights. It would be brilliant of course. Being back in the middle of all that. But then he imagined himself turning around and seeing nothing but a black curtain behind him and suddenly he didn’t want it any more. He wanted his fucking band back. His mates. He stared at the butt in his fingers, twisting and squeezing it until it was dead and hard.
But it was time to start thinking about the future. He sat and thought about that. His future.
Finally, he took out his phone and called Dónal, telling him to book a gig in McGuigans for six weeks time. Dónal knew not to ask too many questions, and just said he’d sort it out. Jimmy hung up, an almost-forgotten buzz settling into his belly. Okay. He was committed now, but that was okay. This gig would be the best thing he’d ever done. He’d make sure of that. For all of them. Whatever it took to put it together, he had six weeks and Jimmy had always worked better when he had a goal. They wanted a gig? He’d give them a gig they’d never fucking forget.
He dialled another number then. One he should have dialled a long time ago, and would have only for the fucked-up priorities he used to carry around with him. But not any more. Shiggy was right. Life was short.
He heard her voice.
‘Susan?’
Then he had to wait, one finger in his free ear, as a sudden roar shook the air around him and made him look up to the sky. But that was okay. A few more seconds? He’d already waited a lot longer than that to tell her that he needed her more than anything else in his life. That he loved her.
He could wait now for the climbing plane overhead to disappear into the clouds, bringing whoever was in it to wherever they had to go.