Close

Spider pushed the boy away from him and held him at arm's length as he drank in his presence. He didn't seem the worse for wear, he could look after himself he knew.

'You good?'

Pat nodded. 'Yeah, you?'

Pat was suddenly a man and Spider watched as his son embraced him. He saw that Lance, as always, was on the sidelines watching everything but never joining in until he was asked to. Patrick Junior had to drag him over to them all and Spider hugged him, as was expected, but the feeling was different. Lance was stiff and unyielding and he knew that, unlike his brother, Lance wasn't bothered about seeing any of them. Spider sensed that Patrick knew that but ignored it.

Still, each to their own.

'The Windies thrashing us as usual?'

Spider and Mac grinned. 'What do you think? You white boys might have invented the game but you can't fucking play it!'

Everyone laughed happily.

'It's good to see you, boys.'

'And you Spider, and you.'

Even Pat's voice was different; deeper, and he seemed to speak slower with more emphasis on his words. He was also heavier in his body; he looked like he had been working out but that was usual for someone straight out of nick, there was fuck all else to concentrate on. But it suited Pat; he was a big lad and his huge shoulders and forearms made for an intimidating picture. He had the Irish colouring: the dark shadow that needed shaving twice a day and the thick black hair and glittering eyes that were a deep blue and made women want him.

As they all sat down, Mac slipped a small package into Pat's hand. 'Grade A grass, just what the doctor ordered.'

'Ta. You look good mate, you fucking handsome bastard.'

As the two young men hugged again, Spider was reminded of the years that had passed and was glad that his son and Pat's son had forged such a strong bond of friendship.

'You look like twins, do you know that?' Mac observed.

Lance and Patrick shrugged with indifference.

'We've been told that all our lives,' said Pat. 'Now, what do you want to drink?'

Spider was already out of his chair.

'No way. I'll get them in. You all right for money, Pat?' Pat nodded and, pointing at Mac, he said quietly, 'He's already weighed me out, Spider, don't worry.'

Pat saw the look of shock on Spider's face at his words and laughed once more.

'I see. So you are sound for the moment then?'

'Yeah, rocking, mate. Thirsty though.'

As Spider walked to the bar, Mac smiled. 'You got the gig then I take it?'

Pat nodded. 'Bought it first thing. Now we're going to go round and introduce ourselves to the regular punters and make sure they know that it's in their interest to pay promptly. I should have your dosh for you in a few weeks. I have some other things lined up, as well you know.'

Mac grinned and shook his shaggy head. 'You ain't got a fucking Scooby Doo, have you?'

Lance was watching him closely. 'Ain't got a clue about what?'

Mac looked at Lance, he was like a watered-down version of his brother; he had the same features but they looked different on him, he looked half mad most of the time. His eyes had no sparkle, nothing to say what he was feeling.

Pat took his pint from the tray that Spider had just brought over to the table and, taking a deep drink, he sighed in satisfaction. He turned to his brother and said quietly, 'What he means, Lance, is that the money was a gift but it was a lot of dough and I would feel better if I paid it back, you know.'

Pat looked at Spider then and the big man shook his head. 'You don't owe us anything.'

Lance watched his brother's easy smile and wished he had his relaxed way with people. If it had been left to him, he would have taken the money. Snatched their hands off, in fact. They did owe him, they owed them all, but he didn't say that, of course.

'How was it in there?'

Patrick smiled, showing even white teeth. He was like a young Georgie Best and he even had the same innocent look about him, a look that belied the real nature underneath. 'All right, met a few decent blokes and even more fucking tossers. But it was OK.'

'Did you get what I sent in?'

'Yeah. Thanks, Spider, much appreciated and all. I was banged up with young Terry Mason, nice fella. Hard fucker for all his scrawniness; he's like a fucking terrier. He took a geezer's nose off in the dinner queue. Great big fucking scouser he was and Terry had a tear-up with him. Believe it or not it was over the last plate of tapioca.'

They were all laughing now at his matter-of-fact voice and his understatement of the facts.

'There was fucking skin and blood flying everywhere. I jumped in when the scouser's mates decided he was getting mullered. It was the first night after sentencing and me and Terry had arrived there together, just in time for dinner. We won the day and shared the fucking tapioca between us. We were battered to fuck but we didn't give a toss. We were starving after sitting in that fucking van all day. Anyway, after that we sort of teamed up; you know how it is.'

Pat stopped smiling suddenly and, looking into Spider's eyes, he said seriously, 'I need some guns, sawn-offs, can you sort that for me?'

Spider nodded slowly. This was a different boy all right and he was sorry for that; even as he understood how and why the change had come about.

'Where's Kathy?'

Eileen sighed. She took her coat off and hung it on the banister and said with her usual, exaggerated sarcasm, 'It's Friday, Mum. She's still in the library. You know she changes her books today and you know how long she takes so I left her there.'

'You're a lairy little mare, do you know that?'

Lil was laughing; Eileen was a case and no mistake. She was as different to her twin sister as a bird was to a fish. Outgoing and friendly, she was the life and soul of any gathering. Her whole life was one big drama and she loved it; gravitating from laughter to tears in minutes or from anger to heartfelt apologies within seconds. There was never a dull moment when she was about.

'Lance will pick her up anyway, he normally does.'

She walked into the front room and, throwing herself down on to the sofa, she yawned loudly. 'I hate that school. It's like being banged up all day in a sauna.'

She was speaking to no one in particular and no one bothered to answer her. She went to the local convent but at weekends she worked in a bookies nearby. She had worked there since her fourteenth birthday and could easily run the place. Lenny had at least done that much for the girls. Kathy worked there with her but she wasn't really any good at it. She had never been good with strangers. Eileen watched out for her and that was how it should be.

Kathy spent most of her work-day in the back of the shop watching TV and counting out the winnings. She then placed the money in an envelope, wrote the lucky punter's name on it and placed it in the safe till it was collected.

At school she worked well and was a model pupil. Her twin looked out for her there as well, but even the teachers had remarked on her nervousness and her quietness. If it had not been for Eileen, Kathy would have been a complete loner. Eileen attracted people and had a network of friends and as Kathy was like an extension of her twin sister, it looked like she was the same. But she wasn't.

'How does she seem to you, Eileen?'

'Who, Kathy? The same as always. You'll never guess what she did today, she went out on her own and got some lunch!'

Lil didn't laugh with her daughter, she found it sad more than anything. That a beautiful young girl like her Kathy could be so nervous of the world worried her.

'Is it me, Eileen, or does she seem even quieter than usual?'

Eileen didn't know what to say so she sighed; one of the loud, heavy, what can I say, kind of sighs she was so good at.

'Give it a rest, Mum, you know what she's like. She ain't going to wake up one morning and be a disco-dancing party girl just because you want her to. Not everyone has to go clubbing and drinking to have a good time. She's just a quiet person, she prefers her books and her music, and that is all right, Mum.'