“Oh, Jesus,” Con gasps. Senan has started laughing too. “And us feckin’ about in that river at the crack of dawn, up to our oxters—”
Bobby is doubled up with giggles, beating his hands on the table. “State of us—”
“And hundreds outa our pockets,” Sonny manages, “and all the time, we coulda just sent out—” He points at Trey and dissolves into helpless wheezes.
“Nothing,” Johnny says, chuckling, patting her arm. “No one’s laughing at you, sweetheart. We’re laughing at ourselves, only.”
Trey still looks unconvinced and prickly. Cal takes a look at Mart. He’s laughing along, but his eyes are sharp and steady, moving between Johnny and Trey.
“ ’Tis ’cause we thought we were awful cute,” P.J. explains to Trey, grinning. “Only we were thick.”
Trey shrugs. “ ’F you don’t want it,” she says, jerking her chin at the bag on the table, “I’ll have it back.”
“And why not,” Johnny says, catching up the bag and pressing it into her hand. “No one’ll grudge you that. You’ve earned it. Amn’t I right?”
“Go on,” Dessie says, still giggling, flapping a hand at her. “Plenty more where that came from.”
“Whatever,” Trey says, pocketing the bag. “Thought you might wanta see it, is all.”
“Ah, sweetheart,” Johnny says remorsefully, catching her arm. Cal is starting to wonder if the guy even remembers her name. “You done great. Daddy’s only delighted with you, and so are all these other nice lads. OK? You go along home now and tell your mammy to put that somewhere safe, and we’ll have it made into a lovely necklace for you to wear.”
Trey shrugs, detaches her arm from his hand, and leaves. Her eyes skid right over Cal.
“Well, God almighty, lads,” Johnny says, running his hands through his hair and gazing after her with a mixture of fondness and bemusement. “Doesn’t that beat Banagher? I didn’t know whether to give her a hug or a skelp. That child’ll be the death of me.”
“She’s got good timing, anyway,” Mart says amiably. “Isn’t that a great talent to have?”
“Where was it she went digging?” Senan asks.
“Fuck’s sake, man,” Johnny says, giving him a disbelieving stare. “Are you serious? I’m handing nothing over for free. And even if I did, ’twouldn’t do ye a blind bitta good: like I told you before, there’s no use in heading out digging with no license. No: we’ll do this right.”
“Foot of the mountain, she said,” Sonny says to Con. “That’ll be our land.”
“Hang on,” Johnny says, turning to Cal, holding up a hand to silence the rest. “Mr. Hooper had a question for me, before my Theresa came in and interrupted him. Mostly I’d apologize for her, only this time I reckon what she had to say was worth hearing, amn’t I right?”
“Jesus fuck,” Sonny says, from the heart, agreeing.
Johnny sits there smiling at Cal, waiting.
“Nope,” Cal says. “Nothing.”
“Ah, there was. Something awful serious, going by the face on you. You put the heart crossways in me there, man; I was afraid maybe I’d run over your dog and never noticed.”
“Not that I know of,” Cal says. “Can’t’ve been that serious; it’s gone right outa my head. It’ll come back, though. I’ll be sure and let you know when it does.”
“You do that,” Johnny says, giving him an approving nod. “Meanwhile, lads, I think we all deserve another shot of the good stuff, amn’t I right? This one’s on me. We’ll have a toast to that mad young one of mine.”
“Count me out,” Cal says. “I’m gonna head home.”
“Ah, now,” Johnny says reproachfully. “You can’t stay for just the two; that’s not the way we do things around here. Sit where you are a while longer and then I’ll see you safe home, if you’re worried about overdoing it. I reckon we could do with a chat anyway.”
“Nah,” Cal says. He drains his pint and stands up. “I’ll see you round.” As he leaves, he hears Johnny say something that gets a big old laugh.
—
The moon is almost full. It turns the mountain road white and treacherously narrow, a trickle of safety wavering upwards between the thick dark scribbles of heathery bog and the formless looming of trees. A fidgety breeze roams among the high branches, but it takes none of the heat out of the air. Cal keeps climbing, sweating through his shirt, till the road splits and he strikes off down the fork that leads to the Reddy place. It leaves him a little closer to the Reddys’ than he’d like, but he doesn’t need someone irrelevant passing by at the wrong time. He finds a boulder in the shadow of a low, gnarled tree, with a clear view of the path below him, and sits down to wait.
He’s thinking of Trey, standing in the entrance of the alcove with her eyes on Johnny and her jaw set, close enough to touch and unreachable. He wonders where she is now, and what she’s thinking, and what happened to her mouth. It aches right through him that he failed her: he didn’t find a way to make her able to come to him with this.
