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Back Trespasses Save as PDF
Chapters (44)
  1. COVER
  2. HALF-TITLE PAGE
  3. BY THE SAME AUTHOR
  4. DEDICATION PAGE
  5. TITLE PAGE
  6. 2015
  7. THE IRISH FOR NO
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. DÚIL
  15. 7
  16. 8
  17. 9
  18. 10
  19. 11
  20. 12
  21. CHIAROSCURO
  22. 13
  23. 14
  24. 15
  25. 16
  26. 17
  27. 18
  28. IN CALVARY’S FLOW
  29. 19
  30. 20
  31. 21
  32. 22
  33. 23
  34. 24
  35. WHEN I MOVE TO THE SKY
  36. 25
  37. 26
  38. 27
  39. 28
  40. 29
  41. 30
  42. 2015
  43. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  44. A NOTE ON THE AUTHOR

I saw Tommy the other day, said Cushla. Walking up the road to here.

Betty’s smile faded. He turned up out of the blue with a bag of washing, she said. Sat all weekend in the house with a bake on him, smoking fegs. Between him and Seamie we’re choking. He’s still here. Up in that bloody room.

Cushla finished her tea and put the mug in the sink. Well, Davy McGeown, whoever has you next year will be a very lucky teacher, she said.

I wish I could be in your class again next year, miss, he said, running at her and throwing his arms round her knees.

I wish I could be your teacher again, she said and, to her dismay, burst out crying. She tried to stop, but the tears were coursing down her face. Davy drew back and was looking up at her. Betty put her hand on Cushla’s arm. Are you all right? she said. You really didn’t look well when you came in.

Sorry, she said. I don’t know where that came out of. Maybe I can call up some time? To say hello?

Any time. Isn’t that right, Davy?

Cushla turned to leave. Tommy had come downstairs and was standing in the hallway.

I’ll lock the door after her, he said.

His mother rolled her eyes and left them alone.

Tommy was wearing a dark blue T-shirt with a white collar. His face and arms were ruddy from working outside. Cushla avoided looking at his shoulders, aware that they had become strong. You were crying? he said.

I got a bit emotional about your wee brother. How are things with you, Tommy? No work today?

I’ve a couple of days off, he said. He swallowed. Maybe we can meet up. Since you’re not our kid’s teacher any more.

The door to the sitting room was closed. His face was close to hers. Surely he wasn’t asking her out. Or was he? There was a confidence in him that was almost oppressive.

Maybe, she said, wanting to leave.

OK. I have your number.

She tripped down the path, feeling unsteady in herself, and did not look back at the house until she was in the driver’s seat. He was still on the doorstep.

26

26

Does anybody else know? said Eamonn, dropping his mug in the sink, splashing Cushla with suds.

No.

Bullshit. I know when you’re lying.

I was teaching him and four of his friends Irish.

You’re joking.

I’m not.

Where?

In one of their houses. On the Malone Road.

Fuck me. Is that it? Just them?

Yes!