Late afternoon came on a damp day in late November. The patrons of a pub were arriving in from work to de-stress with a drink and escape the cold, misty drizzle. Those already inside the pub either had no work or were too old. All of them were men.
Two of them sat at the bar conversing amiably as they enjoyed their beers. Both were in their forties and plainly dressed in builder’s gear with dabs of paint and other stains on their clothes.
“What’s up at the weekend then?” asked Dan.
“Dunno yet,” answered Pearse. “Depends what she wants to do.”
“Always the way isn’t it?” chuckled Dan.
“Defo mate. She’ll drag me to the shops probably,” said Pearse.
“Ouch! Working all week and then having to go through that,” remarked Dan in amusement.
“I’m telling you Dan, the best advise my father ever gave me, God rest him, was this; ‘Never go shopping wi’ women son. Never!’ Utter waste of time!”
“Now if that’s not sound advice I don’t know what is!”
“Takes them five hours to go through twenty shops to buy one pairs of jeans! Life’s too short to be spent doing that!”
“Especially on a Saturday,” said Dan.
“Especially on a Saturday,” agreed Pearse.
“Ah well I suppose it makes them happy.”
“Aye, its does,” said Pearse with a sigh.
The door opened and a stocky, dishevelled, middle-aged man in a broad, cream coloured coat entered the pub. His head was wet from the rain and his plump face red from the cold outside.
“Look who it is,” whispered Dan jerking his eyes to the door.
Pearse turned and swore.
“Seamus, for God’s sake.”
The newcomer hobbled over to them and acknowledged the builder’s with a curt nod.
“Seamie,” they said, greeting him.
He leant his arms forward on the bar and blew his nose noisily.
“Aw God,” he croaked.
“Well Seamie, how was today?” asked Dan pleasantly.
Seamie did not reply. Instead he looked at the men and shook his head as though that were as good an answer as any. Pearse then ventured to engage him.
“Were you working today Seamie?”
“No, no.”
“Still outta work?”
“Aye, there’s nothin’,” said Seamie.
“Ock I’m sure something will turn up,” said Pearse.
The awkward silence that followed prompted Dan to ask;
“So, any news Seamie?”
Seamie turned and looked at him ruefully.
“I got off the phone there,” he said softly. “Vinty is dead.”
The builder’s exchanged glances.
“God, I’m sorry to hear that Seamie,” said Pearse.
“Aw God Seamie, I’m sorry. When did it happen?” asked Dan.
“It was…. It was half two the day,” answered Seamie.
“God save us all!” said Dan.
Pearse set his hand on Seamie’s shoulder.
“You alright there Seamie?”
Seamie nodded.
“Aye, I’ll be alright so I will.”
“You’ll take a drink?”
Seamie thought for a moment.
“Aye I will. Thank you.”
“Basil!” called Pearse.
From the back room came Basil, the bar owner.
“Alright there?” he asked.
Pearse gestured to Seamie.
“I couldn’t get a pint for Seamie, Basil? His brother’s just died today.”
Basil’s round, bearded face promptly morphed from an expression of congeniality to one of polite concern.
“Oh, I’m very sorry now Seamus,” he said offering his hand. “Are you okay?”
“Aye, I’ll be alright so I will.”
“Are you sure now? Do you want to sit down?”
“Aye, we’ll get you on a stool Seamie,” said Pearse who helped him onto the seat to his left.
“That’s better now, isn’t it?” said Basil pouring Seamie’s pint of draft.
“Thank you,” said Seamie.
“What exactly happened to Vinty, Seamie?” asked Dan carefully. He did not want to cause the man further upset.
Seamie clasped his hands together and answered;
“Heart attack.”
“And you don’t hear much of heart attacks anymore, sure you don’t?” commented Dan.
“You don’t, right enough,” said Pearse.
Basil pushed the pint across the bar to Seamie while Pearse paid for it.
“Dropped dead at work,” said Seamie as he took a lengthy sip.
“Dear God,” sighed Basil shaking his head.
“Aye, they only phoned me just now,” explained Seamie hoarsely.
“Aw that’s awful. Will you be going to get him tonight then Seamie?” asked Dan.
“Aye, in a wee while,” he replied.
“Do you need a lift or anything Seamie? I could bring you if you want,” offered Pearse.
“No,” answered Seamie immediately. “You’re grand. I’ll make me own way up when I get my head straightened.”
“I suppose they’ve taken him to the undertakers already Seamus,” said Basil.
“Aye they have. I’ll just go up tonight and sort it all out.”
“Then you’ve to arrange the funeral, tell the priest, put a notice in the paper and so on,” continued Basil.
“Oh aye, I’ll get all that done,” said Seamie.
To the men’s surprise he put down his now empty pint.
“I’ll get you another one there Seamie,” said Dan.
“Ta, now.”
“Awful aul businesses these funerals,” said Pearse ruefully.
“Dam sight expensive an’ all,” added Dan.
“There was my mother’s funeral in July,” said Basil. “Three and a half grand for a bleedin’ coffin! Plus there’s the grave, the flowers, the hearse, and the soup and sandwiches after it.”
“And you’ve to pay the priest too!” said Dan.
“Well some of them don’t take money from ye,” said Basil passing Seamie his second pint. “Though with the one who did my mother’s, the wife said I should give him about fifty quid so I did.”
“Ock it’s not so bad,” said Pearse.
The three men realised their chat was veering away from the bereaved brother.
“Do you have many other relatives who should know about it Seamie?” inquired Dan.
“Not many. There’s the odd cousin out in the country, the nieces and nephews. I suppose they will have to rung and told of it.”
“That will take your mind of it Seamie,” said Basil sympathetically. “Give you something to do.”
“Aye, aye,” said Seamie. “I just can’t believe he’s dead that’s all.”
“I know Seamus, I know,” said Basil.
“We’ve all been there,” said Dan.
“Its gonna happen to us all one day,” said Pearse.
“Aye, that’s true now,” said Seamus drinking away.
There followed another period of silence until Basil said;
“It’s all still sinking in for you Seamus.”
“What?”
“I say it’s still sinking in for you. It’ll take a while to get used to Vinty being gone.”
“Oh it will, aye,” he replied. More quiet followed and Basil thought he would have to reignite the conversation again when Seamie spoke unprompted.
“Me and him used to go on holidays with one another,” he said with a smirk. “One year we got the bus up to Bundoran. There were these three lads sitting at that the back and they gave us a bit of trouble. They were mouthing and swearing at us so when we got off the bus up there we waited til they got their suitcases out. Then they went to the toilet so we grabbed their bags and threw them in the sea!”
Seamie laughed quietly to himself.
“I’m sure you and Vinty got up to all sorts down through the years,” said Dan who had been amused by the anecdote.
“Oh aye,” said Seamie as he sunk another chunk of his pint. “That’s just one of them.”
Seamie coughed and recounted another.
“Aye, do ye remember back in them days they never fastened down the park benches? Well there was many times we’d hoy over the gate in the evening and we’ throw all the benches into the duck’s pond.”
“You don’t think of any consequences do you Seamie?” laughed Pearse.
Two of them sat at the bar conversing amiably as they enjoyed their beers. Both were in their forties and plainly dressed in builder’s gear with dabs of paint and other stains on their clothes.
“What’s up at the weekend then?” asked Dan.
“Dunno yet,” answered Pearse. “Depends what she wants to do.”
“Always the way isn’t it?” chuckled Dan.
“Defo mate. She’ll drag me to the shops probably,” said Pearse.
“Ouch! Working all week and then having to go through that,” remarked Dan in amusement.
“I’m telling you Dan, the best advise my father ever gave me, God rest him, was this; ‘Never go shopping wi’ women son. Never!’ Utter waste of time!”
“Now if that’s not sound advice I don’t know what is!”
“Takes them five hours to go through twenty shops to buy one pairs of jeans! Life’s too short to be spent doing that!”
“Especially on a Saturday,” said Dan.
“Especially on a Saturday,” agreed Pearse.
“Ah well I suppose it makes them happy.”
“Aye, its does,” said Pearse with a sigh.
The door opened and a stocky, dishevelled, middle-aged man in a broad, cream coloured coat entered the pub. His head was wet from the rain and his plump face red from the cold outside.
“Look who it is,” whispered Dan jerking his eyes to the door.
Pearse turned and swore.
“Seamus, for God’s sake.”
The newcomer hobbled over to them and acknowledged the builder’s with a curt nod.
“Seamie,” they said, greeting him.
He leant his arms forward on the bar and blew his nose noisily.
“Aw God,” he croaked.
“Well Seamie, how was today?” asked Dan pleasantly.
Seamie did not reply. Instead he looked at the men and shook his head as though that were as good an answer as any. Pearse then ventured to engage him.
“Were you working today Seamie?”
“No, no.”
“Still outta work?”
“Aye, there’s nothin’,” said Seamie.
“Ock I’m sure something will turn up,” said Pearse.
The awkward silence that followed prompted Dan to ask;
“So, any news Seamie?”
Seamie turned and looked at him ruefully.
“I got off the phone there,” he said softly. “Vinty is dead.”
The builder’s exchanged glances.
“God, I’m sorry to hear that Seamie,” said Pearse.
“Aw God Seamie, I’m sorry. When did it happen?” asked Dan.
“It was…. It was half two the day,” answered Seamie.
“God save us all!” said Dan.
Pearse set his hand on Seamie’s shoulder.
“You alright there Seamie?”
Seamie nodded.
“Aye, I’ll be alright so I will.”
“You’ll take a drink?”
Seamie thought for a moment.
“Aye I will. Thank you.”
“Basil!” called Pearse.
From the back room came Basil, the bar owner.
“Alright there?” he asked.
Pearse gestured to Seamie.
“I couldn’t get a pint for Seamie, Basil? His brother’s just died today.”
Basil’s round, bearded face promptly morphed from an expression of congeniality to one of polite concern.
“Oh, I’m very sorry now Seamus,” he said offering his hand. “Are you okay?”
“Aye, I’ll be alright so I will.”
“Are you sure now? Do you want to sit down?”
“Aye, we’ll get you on a stool Seamie,” said Pearse who helped him onto the seat to his left.
“That’s better now, isn’t it?” said Basil pouring Seamie’s pint of draft.
“Thank you,” said Seamie.
“What exactly happened to Vinty, Seamie?” asked Dan carefully. He did not want to cause the man further upset.
Seamie clasped his hands together and answered;
“Heart attack.”
“And you don’t hear much of heart attacks anymore, sure you don’t?” commented Dan.
“You don’t, right enough,” said Pearse.
Basil pushed the pint across the bar to Seamie while Pearse paid for it.
“Dropped dead at work,” said Seamie as he took a lengthy sip.
“Dear God,” sighed Basil shaking his head.
“Aye, they only phoned me just now,” explained Seamie hoarsely.
“Aw that’s awful. Will you be going to get him tonight then Seamie?” asked Dan.
“Aye, in a wee while,” he replied.
“Do you need a lift or anything Seamie? I could bring you if you want,” offered Pearse.
“No,” answered Seamie immediately. “You’re grand. I’ll make me own way up when I get my head straightened.”
“I suppose they’ve taken him to the undertakers already Seamus,” said Basil.
“Aye they have. I’ll just go up tonight and sort it all out.”
“Then you’ve to arrange the funeral, tell the priest, put a notice in the paper and so on,” continued Basil.
“Oh aye, I’ll get all that done,” said Seamie.
To the men’s surprise he put down his now empty pint.
“I’ll get you another one there Seamie,” said Dan.
“Ta, now.”
“Awful aul businesses these funerals,” said Pearse ruefully.
“Dam sight expensive an’ all,” added Dan.
“There was my mother’s funeral in July,” said Basil. “Three and a half grand for a bleedin’ coffin! Plus there’s the grave, the flowers, the hearse, and the soup and sandwiches after it.”
“And you’ve to pay the priest too!” said Dan.
“Well some of them don’t take money from ye,” said Basil passing Seamie his second pint. “Though with the one who did my mother’s, the wife said I should give him about fifty quid so I did.”
“Ock it’s not so bad,” said Pearse.
The three men realised their chat was veering away from the bereaved brother.
“Do you have many other relatives who should know about it Seamie?” inquired Dan.
“Not many. There’s the odd cousin out in the country, the nieces and nephews. I suppose they will have to rung and told of it.”
“That will take your mind of it Seamie,” said Basil sympathetically. “Give you something to do.”
“Aye, aye,” said Seamie. “I just can’t believe he’s dead that’s all.”
“I know Seamus, I know,” said Basil.
“We’ve all been there,” said Dan.
“Its gonna happen to us all one day,” said Pearse.
“Aye, that’s true now,” said Seamus drinking away.
There followed another period of silence until Basil said;
“It’s all still sinking in for you Seamus.”
“What?”
“I say it’s still sinking in for you. It’ll take a while to get used to Vinty being gone.”
“Oh it will, aye,” he replied. More quiet followed and Basil thought he would have to reignite the conversation again when Seamie spoke unprompted.
“Me and him used to go on holidays with one another,” he said with a smirk. “One year we got the bus up to Bundoran. There were these three lads sitting at that the back and they gave us a bit of trouble. They were mouthing and swearing at us so when we got off the bus up there we waited til they got their suitcases out. Then they went to the toilet so we grabbed their bags and threw them in the sea!”
Seamie laughed quietly to himself.
“I’m sure you and Vinty got up to all sorts down through the years,” said Dan who had been amused by the anecdote.
“Oh aye,” said Seamie as he sunk another chunk of his pint. “That’s just one of them.”
Seamie coughed and recounted another.
“Aye, do ye remember back in them days they never fastened down the park benches? Well there was many times we’d hoy over the gate in the evening and we’ throw all the benches into the duck’s pond.”
“You don’t think of any consequences do you Seamie?” laughed Pearse.
By this point a number of eavesdroppers had joined the group to express their condolences to Seamie and each of them promised him a drink. Whilst belonging to no particular clique of the pub Seamie was nonetheless modestly popular due in part to what were often described as his “bullshit” stories. Yet he always took the banter in good heart however that night he was naturally more downcast and quiet. At the same moment Basil presented Seamie with his third free pint a haughty looking, balding man in a long black coat entered the bar and sized up the proceedings. He was surprised to see that Seamie was the centre of attention and tapped the shoulder of a young man on the periphery of the group.
“What’s the craic Ryan?” he asked gesturing to the crowd at the bar.
“Alright Joe? Seamie’s brother Vinty is dead,” answered Ryan.
“Oh, is he”? said Joe blandly. “He told you, did he?”
“Nah I just heard from Dan a minute ago,” said Ryan, more interested in his mobile phone than talking to Joe.
“Seamie seems to be taking it well. He’s drinking away there,” commented Joe with a tinge of scorn.
“Aye that’s Seamie for you. He gets on with it!” said Ryan.
“Doesn’t he now,” said Joe flatly. “I’d better say hello.”
Joe made his way to the bar to come alongside Seamie who took another eager sip of lager.
“Bad news Seamie?” asked Joe above the growing clamour.
Seamie’s mild, relaxed countenance suddenly became edgy when she saw who posed the question.
“Aye, its bad news,” said Seamie.
“Poor Vinty,” said Joe.
“Poor Vinty,” echoed Seamie. “I can’t believe he’s dead.”
“I’m sure you can’t. Must have been a shock for you Seamie.”
“Oh, aye. It was a heart attack he had. That’s what killed him.”
“God, Vinty would be the last person you’d expect to have a heart attack,” remarked Joe looking carefully at Seamie.
“I know. He looked after himself so he did,” said Seamie thoughtfully. “Then, just like that, he’s gone,” he concluded snapping his fingers.
“Do you remember the time I gave you and him a lift home one night?”
“I do, aye,” replied Seamie unsure where the conversation would lead.
“He wanted out to take a p…, go to the toilet. So when we got to the country I stopped the car and he got out and went all over the passenger door!”
Seamie laughed.
“Aye that’s right! I remember now that you mention it.”
“I must say I was raging with him at the time but then do you know what happened?”
“No, what?” asked Seamie.
“You got out and did your business on it too!”
“Did I?”
“Aye, you did.”
Seamie laughed again.
“I must have been too pissed to remember it,” he said.
“Yeah, you were,” said Joe raising both eyebrows. “You’re alright for a drink then Seamus?”
“Aye I’m grand.” Seamie was half way through his third pint at this stage. “I’ve more lined up for me too,” he said indicating the half dozen or so men around him.
“Lucky you Seamus,” said Joe. “If one of your relatives died every day then you’d be sorted for the drink, wouldn’t you?”
Seamie looked wryly at Joe before saying;
“Aye, I would but I don’t have many of them left mind you.”
“The years take their toll,” said Joe forlornly.
“They do their weedin’ out, aye,” agreed Seamie.
“How are you feeling now Seamie?”
“Aye, I’ll be alright so I will.”
“Good man,” said Joe. “Is someone sorting out all the burial arrangements?”
“Well,” began Seamie who was approaching the end of his pint, “my cousin, he’s gonna help me do it all. I spoke to him. He’s on his way now. He’ll bring me up to the morgue.”
“That’s not so bad then. You need support at a time like this.”
“You do indeed, all the help you can get, you know?”
There was another pause and Joe quietly felt as if Seamus did not welcome his company but he still had questions for the bereaved man.
“May I ask how he died?”
“It was very sudden,” said Seamie. “A stroke. Sorry, heart attack, is what it was.”
“There I was thinking heart attacks were a thing of the past.” said Joe.
“Aye, that’s what those lads were saying as well,” said Seamie meaning Dan and Pearse.
“Did they get him to the hospital?”
“No, he…. died there on the factory floor,” muttered Seamie.
“Awful way to go,” said Joe.
“It is, aye. I wouldn’t wish it on me own worst enemy.”
Joe followed suit with the male tendency to slowly shake one’s head when acknowledging the grief felt by the death of someone close to an acquaintance.
“So what will you do with yourself now Seamus?” he asked eventually.
“Ah, I don’t rightly know,” muttered Seamie. “Have to do something I suppose.”
“Aye, sure there’s no rush.”
“I’ll have to get a job sorted out so I will.”
“Ah right. You’re not working at the minute?”
“Ock, the odd day I would be. Now and again there’d be something.”
“Well don’t worry too much about it. Just get the next couple of days over with then you can look for something.”
“Then I’ll sort of your dosh for you Joe. You’re probably after it.”
“No, there’s no rush Seamus. Don’t be worrying over it. Whenever you can, call into the office and we can sort it all out.”
“Aye, I will do,” said Seamie finishing his beer.
“I’ll let you go here Seamus, there’s a queue to buy you a drink forming,” said Joe moving away.
“Don’t worry about it Seamie,” said Ryan. “We’re all buying for you tonight, right lads?”
“Ah, yis are good,” said Seamie, smiling for the first time.
Dan meanwhile had retreated to the edge of the throng in order to stretch his legs.
“What do you make of this?” Joe asked him.
“Awful business, right enough. Poor old Vinty. I mean I don’t know Seamie well but you feel for him all the same.”
“That’s true.”
“You know him though, don’t you?”
“I do,” said Joe, “though mainly from the legal work I did for them.”
“Oh right, what exactly?”
“I sold their farm for them last year after they fell on hard times. They still haven’t paid up and I doubt they will now,” said Joe gloomily.
“Well, that’s probably the last thing Seamie’s thinking about now Joe,” said Dan. “I’ll tell you this; he and Vinty are characters, real characters.”
“Oh I know,” said Joe. “I just reminded him of the time I gave them a lift home one night and the two of them needed out to answer a call of nature. What did they do but piss all over my passenger side door!”
Dan’s beer nearly sprouted from his nostrils as he tried to contain his mirth. Joe was unmoved.
“Mark my words they’ve probably got more money than they let on,” he said. “And I still haven’t seen a penny of it.”
“Well, now’s not the time to be chasing it Joe. Considering.” Dan nodded to the bar where Seamie was already well on the way to consuming his fourth pint.
“The other week Seamie said he could pay me back in instalments. I arranged to go out to their house to run over the details but neither of them were at home. After that I couldn’t get hold of them for a few days. Apparently they’d gone on holiday and not told me!”
“Well, they probably just forget to tell you,” said Dan who was becoming a bit displeased with Joe’s attitude.
“Then I got a letter from another solicitor, I can’t say who, accusing me of sneaking about his client’s property. His clients were none other than Laurel and Hardy; Seamus and Vinty! I wonder if they’ve paid him. I’ve a mind to check!”
“A solicitor? What did he say?”
“He said I was seen looking in their windows and had prowled around their garden and fields. I did look in the window but only to see if they were at home like they’d promised. I never went near the fields! So, if they were away on holiday, who was it that saw me ‘prowling’?”
Joe’s voice sounded almost livid.
“I dunno Joe. It’s best you wait til all this dies down,” said Dan diplomatically.
“I’ll do my best,” said Joe with an angry sigh.
“I’ll take to you later,” said Dan moving back to his friend at the bar.
No ooner had he gone when Joe was joined again by Ryan.
“Poor aul Seamie, eh?” said the young man. “He didn’t deserve this. I just went and told him I was sorry about Vinty. As well as that I said forget about the fifty quid that he owes me.”
Joe smiled then said;
“Well if he owed me fifty quid I’d have let him off as well but would you forget his debt if it had been, say, twenty thousand?”
“Not bloody likely,” laughed Ryan. “Why, is that what Seamie owes you Joe?”
“It’s in that ball park,” said Joe grimly.
“Jaysis,” breathed Ryan. “That’s an ugly sum. I thought I had it bad with my mortgage. It’s eight hundred a month!”
“Doesn’t leave you much to live on, sure it doesn’t?”
“Or drink on!” roared Ryan. “Seriously though I’m definitely gonna try and cut down on the beer. I don’t want to end up like poor Vinty and have a stroke!”
“Stroke?”
Joe’s interested was suddenly aroused.
“Aye, that’s what he died from, Seamie told me,” said Ryan.
“He told me it was a heart attack.”
“Heart attack? Well he was adamant that it was a stroke.”
“Was he now?” asked Joe suspiciously as he turned to see Seamie be commiserated by another generous patron.
“Aye,” said Ryan. “I think the stress is getting to him. Maybe he’s confused.”
“Or maybe he’s….”
Joe trailed off having thought better not to say what he was thinking.
“What Joe?”
“Never mind.”
“I wouldn’t wish a stroke on anyone,” continued Ryan. “My Granda died from one. He ended up as a vegetable for two weeks before he went. Vinty was lucky not to have to go through that!”
“Yes I suppose he was,” said Joe thoughtfully, not really paying attention to the younger man.
“Life won’t be the same for Seamie although at least he’ll have the house and the jeep.”
“What jeep is this?” asked Joe aghast.
“Oh, he says Vinty bought a new one a couple of weeks back. He loves his cars does Seamie.”
“They’ve money tucked away then by the sound of it,” said Joe who looked ready to seethe.
“Oh, aye. With the land they owned, definitely.”
“I’m going to have another word with him,” said Joe.
“What about?”
“This and that,” replied Joe making his way to the bar again.
There was a lull in sympathisers around Seamie who was already well into his fifth pint.
“So are you enjoying your new jeep Seamie?” asked Joe bluntly.
“My jeep?” responded Seamie guardedly.
“Yes, your jeep.”
“What jeep is this?”
“The one Vinty got.”
Seamie’s forehead became a row of wrinkles as he pondered this statement from Joe whose eyes narrowed to scrutinise him.
“Aye the jeep now, yes,” stammered Seamie putting down his drink. “It’s one we got a loan of you see,” he said raising him hands as if he was trying to construct his very words with them.
“A loan?”
“Aye, to do runs into town and for Vinty to go to work. He uses it.”
Seamie went orange prior to correcting himself.
“Used it for work I should say!”
“Who owns it then?”
“We do. I mean to say a cousin of ours owns it. He lent it to us. I’ll buy it off him when I get your money sorted out for ye Joe.”
Joe looked at Seamie with contemptuous disbelief but decided to say nothing.
“Well,” said he said at last, “I would like you to get it sorted as soon as you can Seamus. It’s gone on long enough.”
“It has,” said Seamie. “I’ll not deny it. I don’t want it to be said that I’m a man who never pays his debts!”
‘Bit late for that mate’, thought Joe.
At Seamie’s utterance of the word ‘debts’ ears that had hitherto not been actively listening began to pay attention. Surely Joe, the money-loving lawyer, could not be pressing for payment at a time like this?
Joe was tapped firmly on the shoulder.
“Are you wise Joe?” hissed Pearse.
“What?”
“Don’t tell me you’re hawking him for money!”
“I’m not,” answered Joe calmly. “I was just asking Seamus about his new jeep.”
“I hope that’s all you were asking him!”
Seamie had become sensitive to this exchange and before it could become more heated he raised his hands in a call for peace.
“It’s alright Pearse. Joe has a right to know when he’ll be paid but don’t have a row about it! Vinty wouldn’t have wanted yis to fight boys. He was a man of peace, a bit like me self. I hate fighting, especially after someone’s just died! It ain’t right. If you want to fight go outside, I want nothing to do with it.”
Seamie sighed deeply.
“It’s just me now. I’m all one me own.”
He looked long and hard at his beer. His voice seemed to come from very far away.
“You should be glad you have people to go home to.”
Seamie paused.
“I don’t.”
The pub fell largely silent.
“Let’s have another drink Basil,” said Seamie.
“I’ll get it for you Seamus.”
Seamie turned in surprise because the speaker was Joe.
“I hope I caused you no offence,” he said softly so that no one else would hear him. “I got a bit carried away. It’s been a long aul day and the wife’s been bitching me about everything under the sun. It’s just when I saw you in here this evening Seamie and after what I heard I jumped to all sorts of conclusions. God almighty what an idiot I am!”
“Ah don’t worry about it Joe,” said Seamie.
Joe offered Seamie his hand with a warm smile.
“I’m really sorry about Vinty Seamus. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“I will now and thank you Joe,” said Seamus shaking Joe’s hand.
“Will you be alright now Seamus?” asked Joe.
“Aye, I’ll be alright so I will.”
The ambient chat had already resumed and the atmosphere was friendly again. Then one of the patrons, oblivious to the entire conversation surrounding Seamie and his bad news, said goodbye to his mate and headed for the door. Through it came a man in a large, cream coloured coat identical to Seamie’s. His features were also very similar to those of the man who sat at the bar drinking his fifth free pint of the evening.
“Alright Vinty?” said the man who was leaving.
“Hello and goodbye!” beamed the newcomer cheerfully. “Salutations to you all my friends!” he exclaimed.
The babble of talk was snuffed as every jaw in the pub dropped. Glasses clinked, shoes squeaked in sudden movement and hushed curses stained the once warm air.
“Lazarus!” shouted someone with a laugh.
Tilting his head round to get a better look, Seamie seemed only mildly surprised to see the new arrival.
“Seamie?” said Pearse at last. His tone appeared to request an explanation. Seamie kept quiet and bowed his head.
“Well well well,” said the man. “How’s my twin brother? You alright there Seamie?”
“Aye, I’ll be alright so I will.”
“That bus was mental tonight!” he said sitting down beside Seamie. “Queues of traffic all over the show. Anyway Basil, give’is a pint there will ya?”
Basil didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In the end he opted to glare.
“My friends!” laughed Vinty as he grew aware of similar expressions from the others. “Whatever is the matter?”
“What is this Seamie?” demanded Dan.
“What’s what Dan?” asked Vinty with amusement.
“We were informed Vinty, that you had died.” said Joe grimacing.
“Dead? Me? No! You’re mistaken! But who told you I was dead?”
Joe jabbed a finger at Seamie.
Vinty, aghast, looked questioningly at his younger brother. Seamie took a long swig of his final pint then set it down noisily on the bar.
“I’m sorry lads,” pleaded Seamie. “I was desperate for a drink and I had no money!”
“I knew it!” exclaimed Joe furiously. “I knew it was sympathy ploy! God, how the hell could I have been so bloody stupid?”
“Calm down now Joe,” insisted Seamie. “Vinty here will pay yis all back what your owed, won’t you Vinty?”
“I bloody won’t!”
“Get out the pair of ye!” yelled Basil.
“Go on, get out!” roared Pearse.
“Hey now, cool it!” said Vinty getting off his stool. “This has nothing to do with me!”
Alas for Vinty; guilt by association with his lying brother was enough to condemn him also.
“Who gives a shit? You’re a prick!” retorted Pearse.
“Out yis go and don’t set foot inside my pub as long as yis live!” declared Basil shaking his fist as the duo edged their way through the unfriendly throng.
“I’ll see you both in court!” called Joe after them as they reached the door where they were half-pushed, half-kicked and thrust out into the drizzle.
“Pair a bleedin’ chancers!” said Dan rocking his head in sheer disbelief.
“Let me buy you a drink Joe,” said Pearse. “You were right and I was wrong.”
“Thanks but you’re not to blame. As I said Seamus is a crafty old so and so. He’d sell his own mother if he could!”
“What’s the craic Ryan?” he asked gesturing to the crowd at the bar.
“Alright Joe? Seamie’s brother Vinty is dead,” answered Ryan.
“Oh, is he”? said Joe blandly. “He told you, did he?”
“Nah I just heard from Dan a minute ago,” said Ryan, more interested in his mobile phone than talking to Joe.
“Seamie seems to be taking it well. He’s drinking away there,” commented Joe with a tinge of scorn.
“Aye that’s Seamie for you. He gets on with it!” said Ryan.
“Doesn’t he now,” said Joe flatly. “I’d better say hello.”
Joe made his way to the bar to come alongside Seamie who took another eager sip of lager.
“Bad news Seamie?” asked Joe above the growing clamour.
Seamie’s mild, relaxed countenance suddenly became edgy when she saw who posed the question.
“Aye, its bad news,” said Seamie.
“Poor Vinty,” said Joe.
“Poor Vinty,” echoed Seamie. “I can’t believe he’s dead.”
“I’m sure you can’t. Must have been a shock for you Seamie.”
“Oh, aye. It was a heart attack he had. That’s what killed him.”
“God, Vinty would be the last person you’d expect to have a heart attack,” remarked Joe looking carefully at Seamie.
“I know. He looked after himself so he did,” said Seamie thoughtfully. “Then, just like that, he’s gone,” he concluded snapping his fingers.
“Do you remember the time I gave you and him a lift home one night?”
“I do, aye,” replied Seamie unsure where the conversation would lead.
“He wanted out to take a p…, go to the toilet. So when we got to the country I stopped the car and he got out and went all over the passenger door!”
Seamie laughed.
“Aye that’s right! I remember now that you mention it.”
“I must say I was raging with him at the time but then do you know what happened?”
“No, what?” asked Seamie.
“You got out and did your business on it too!”
“Did I?”
“Aye, you did.”
Seamie laughed again.
“I must have been too pissed to remember it,” he said.
“Yeah, you were,” said Joe raising both eyebrows. “You’re alright for a drink then Seamus?”
“Aye I’m grand.” Seamie was half way through his third pint at this stage. “I’ve more lined up for me too,” he said indicating the half dozen or so men around him.
“Lucky you Seamus,” said Joe. “If one of your relatives died every day then you’d be sorted for the drink, wouldn’t you?”
Seamie looked wryly at Joe before saying;
“Aye, I would but I don’t have many of them left mind you.”
“The years take their toll,” said Joe forlornly.
“They do their weedin’ out, aye,” agreed Seamie.
“How are you feeling now Seamie?”
“Aye, I’ll be alright so I will.”
“Good man,” said Joe. “Is someone sorting out all the burial arrangements?”
“Well,” began Seamie who was approaching the end of his pint, “my cousin, he’s gonna help me do it all. I spoke to him. He’s on his way now. He’ll bring me up to the morgue.”
“That’s not so bad then. You need support at a time like this.”
“You do indeed, all the help you can get, you know?”
There was another pause and Joe quietly felt as if Seamus did not welcome his company but he still had questions for the bereaved man.
“May I ask how he died?”
“It was very sudden,” said Seamie. “A stroke. Sorry, heart attack, is what it was.”
“There I was thinking heart attacks were a thing of the past.” said Joe.
“Aye, that’s what those lads were saying as well,” said Seamie meaning Dan and Pearse.
“Did they get him to the hospital?”
“No, he…. died there on the factory floor,” muttered Seamie.
“Awful way to go,” said Joe.
“It is, aye. I wouldn’t wish it on me own worst enemy.”
Joe followed suit with the male tendency to slowly shake one’s head when acknowledging the grief felt by the death of someone close to an acquaintance.
“So what will you do with yourself now Seamus?” he asked eventually.
“Ah, I don’t rightly know,” muttered Seamie. “Have to do something I suppose.”
“Aye, sure there’s no rush.”
“I’ll have to get a job sorted out so I will.”
“Ah right. You’re not working at the minute?”
“Ock, the odd day I would be. Now and again there’d be something.”
“Well don’t worry too much about it. Just get the next couple of days over with then you can look for something.”
“Then I’ll sort of your dosh for you Joe. You’re probably after it.”
“No, there’s no rush Seamus. Don’t be worrying over it. Whenever you can, call into the office and we can sort it all out.”
“Aye, I will do,” said Seamie finishing his beer.
“I’ll let you go here Seamus, there’s a queue to buy you a drink forming,” said Joe moving away.
“Don’t worry about it Seamie,” said Ryan. “We’re all buying for you tonight, right lads?”
“Ah, yis are good,” said Seamie, smiling for the first time.
Dan meanwhile had retreated to the edge of the throng in order to stretch his legs.
“What do you make of this?” Joe asked him.
“Awful business, right enough. Poor old Vinty. I mean I don’t know Seamie well but you feel for him all the same.”
“That’s true.”
“You know him though, don’t you?”
“I do,” said Joe, “though mainly from the legal work I did for them.”
“Oh right, what exactly?”
“I sold their farm for them last year after they fell on hard times. They still haven’t paid up and I doubt they will now,” said Joe gloomily.
“Well, that’s probably the last thing Seamie’s thinking about now Joe,” said Dan. “I’ll tell you this; he and Vinty are characters, real characters.”
“Oh I know,” said Joe. “I just reminded him of the time I gave them a lift home one night and the two of them needed out to answer a call of nature. What did they do but piss all over my passenger side door!”
Dan’s beer nearly sprouted from his nostrils as he tried to contain his mirth. Joe was unmoved.
“Mark my words they’ve probably got more money than they let on,” he said. “And I still haven’t seen a penny of it.”
“Well, now’s not the time to be chasing it Joe. Considering.” Dan nodded to the bar where Seamie was already well on the way to consuming his fourth pint.
“The other week Seamie said he could pay me back in instalments. I arranged to go out to their house to run over the details but neither of them were at home. After that I couldn’t get hold of them for a few days. Apparently they’d gone on holiday and not told me!”
“Well, they probably just forget to tell you,” said Dan who was becoming a bit displeased with Joe’s attitude.
“Then I got a letter from another solicitor, I can’t say who, accusing me of sneaking about his client’s property. His clients were none other than Laurel and Hardy; Seamus and Vinty! I wonder if they’ve paid him. I’ve a mind to check!”
“A solicitor? What did he say?”
“He said I was seen looking in their windows and had prowled around their garden and fields. I did look in the window but only to see if they were at home like they’d promised. I never went near the fields! So, if they were away on holiday, who was it that saw me ‘prowling’?”
Joe’s voice sounded almost livid.
“I dunno Joe. It’s best you wait til all this dies down,” said Dan diplomatically.
“I’ll do my best,” said Joe with an angry sigh.
“I’ll take to you later,” said Dan moving back to his friend at the bar.
No ooner had he gone when Joe was joined again by Ryan.
“Poor aul Seamie, eh?” said the young man. “He didn’t deserve this. I just went and told him I was sorry about Vinty. As well as that I said forget about the fifty quid that he owes me.”
Joe smiled then said;
“Well if he owed me fifty quid I’d have let him off as well but would you forget his debt if it had been, say, twenty thousand?”
“Not bloody likely,” laughed Ryan. “Why, is that what Seamie owes you Joe?”
“It’s in that ball park,” said Joe grimly.
“Jaysis,” breathed Ryan. “That’s an ugly sum. I thought I had it bad with my mortgage. It’s eight hundred a month!”
“Doesn’t leave you much to live on, sure it doesn’t?”
“Or drink on!” roared Ryan. “Seriously though I’m definitely gonna try and cut down on the beer. I don’t want to end up like poor Vinty and have a stroke!”
“Stroke?”
Joe’s interested was suddenly aroused.
“Aye, that’s what he died from, Seamie told me,” said Ryan.
“He told me it was a heart attack.”
“Heart attack? Well he was adamant that it was a stroke.”
“Was he now?” asked Joe suspiciously as he turned to see Seamie be commiserated by another generous patron.
“Aye,” said Ryan. “I think the stress is getting to him. Maybe he’s confused.”
“Or maybe he’s….”
Joe trailed off having thought better not to say what he was thinking.
“What Joe?”
“Never mind.”
“I wouldn’t wish a stroke on anyone,” continued Ryan. “My Granda died from one. He ended up as a vegetable for two weeks before he went. Vinty was lucky not to have to go through that!”
“Yes I suppose he was,” said Joe thoughtfully, not really paying attention to the younger man.
“Life won’t be the same for Seamie although at least he’ll have the house and the jeep.”
“What jeep is this?” asked Joe aghast.
“Oh, he says Vinty bought a new one a couple of weeks back. He loves his cars does Seamie.”
“They’ve money tucked away then by the sound of it,” said Joe who looked ready to seethe.
“Oh, aye. With the land they owned, definitely.”
“I’m going to have another word with him,” said Joe.
“What about?”
“This and that,” replied Joe making his way to the bar again.
There was a lull in sympathisers around Seamie who was already well into his fifth pint.
“So are you enjoying your new jeep Seamie?” asked Joe bluntly.
“My jeep?” responded Seamie guardedly.
“Yes, your jeep.”
“What jeep is this?”
“The one Vinty got.”
Seamie’s forehead became a row of wrinkles as he pondered this statement from Joe whose eyes narrowed to scrutinise him.
“Aye the jeep now, yes,” stammered Seamie putting down his drink. “It’s one we got a loan of you see,” he said raising him hands as if he was trying to construct his very words with them.
“A loan?”
“Aye, to do runs into town and for Vinty to go to work. He uses it.”
Seamie went orange prior to correcting himself.
“Used it for work I should say!”
“Who owns it then?”
“We do. I mean to say a cousin of ours owns it. He lent it to us. I’ll buy it off him when I get your money sorted out for ye Joe.”
Joe looked at Seamie with contemptuous disbelief but decided to say nothing.
“Well,” said he said at last, “I would like you to get it sorted as soon as you can Seamus. It’s gone on long enough.”
“It has,” said Seamie. “I’ll not deny it. I don’t want it to be said that I’m a man who never pays his debts!”
‘Bit late for that mate’, thought Joe.
At Seamie’s utterance of the word ‘debts’ ears that had hitherto not been actively listening began to pay attention. Surely Joe, the money-loving lawyer, could not be pressing for payment at a time like this?
Joe was tapped firmly on the shoulder.
“Are you wise Joe?” hissed Pearse.
“What?”
“Don’t tell me you’re hawking him for money!”
“I’m not,” answered Joe calmly. “I was just asking Seamus about his new jeep.”
“I hope that’s all you were asking him!”
Seamie had become sensitive to this exchange and before it could become more heated he raised his hands in a call for peace.
“It’s alright Pearse. Joe has a right to know when he’ll be paid but don’t have a row about it! Vinty wouldn’t have wanted yis to fight boys. He was a man of peace, a bit like me self. I hate fighting, especially after someone’s just died! It ain’t right. If you want to fight go outside, I want nothing to do with it.”
Seamie sighed deeply.
“It’s just me now. I’m all one me own.”
He looked long and hard at his beer. His voice seemed to come from very far away.
“You should be glad you have people to go home to.”
Seamie paused.
“I don’t.”
The pub fell largely silent.
“Let’s have another drink Basil,” said Seamie.
“I’ll get it for you Seamus.”
Seamie turned in surprise because the speaker was Joe.
“I hope I caused you no offence,” he said softly so that no one else would hear him. “I got a bit carried away. It’s been a long aul day and the wife’s been bitching me about everything under the sun. It’s just when I saw you in here this evening Seamie and after what I heard I jumped to all sorts of conclusions. God almighty what an idiot I am!”
“Ah don’t worry about it Joe,” said Seamie.
Joe offered Seamie his hand with a warm smile.
“I’m really sorry about Vinty Seamus. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“I will now and thank you Joe,” said Seamus shaking Joe’s hand.
“Will you be alright now Seamus?” asked Joe.
“Aye, I’ll be alright so I will.”
The ambient chat had already resumed and the atmosphere was friendly again. Then one of the patrons, oblivious to the entire conversation surrounding Seamie and his bad news, said goodbye to his mate and headed for the door. Through it came a man in a large, cream coloured coat identical to Seamie’s. His features were also very similar to those of the man who sat at the bar drinking his fifth free pint of the evening.
“Alright Vinty?” said the man who was leaving.
“Hello and goodbye!” beamed the newcomer cheerfully. “Salutations to you all my friends!” he exclaimed.
The babble of talk was snuffed as every jaw in the pub dropped. Glasses clinked, shoes squeaked in sudden movement and hushed curses stained the once warm air.
“Lazarus!” shouted someone with a laugh.
Tilting his head round to get a better look, Seamie seemed only mildly surprised to see the new arrival.
“Seamie?” said Pearse at last. His tone appeared to request an explanation. Seamie kept quiet and bowed his head.
“Well well well,” said the man. “How’s my twin brother? You alright there Seamie?”
“Aye, I’ll be alright so I will.”
“That bus was mental tonight!” he said sitting down beside Seamie. “Queues of traffic all over the show. Anyway Basil, give’is a pint there will ya?”
Basil didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In the end he opted to glare.
“My friends!” laughed Vinty as he grew aware of similar expressions from the others. “Whatever is the matter?”
“What is this Seamie?” demanded Dan.
“What’s what Dan?” asked Vinty with amusement.
“We were informed Vinty, that you had died.” said Joe grimacing.
“Dead? Me? No! You’re mistaken! But who told you I was dead?”
Joe jabbed a finger at Seamie.
Vinty, aghast, looked questioningly at his younger brother. Seamie took a long swig of his final pint then set it down noisily on the bar.
“I’m sorry lads,” pleaded Seamie. “I was desperate for a drink and I had no money!”
“I knew it!” exclaimed Joe furiously. “I knew it was sympathy ploy! God, how the hell could I have been so bloody stupid?”
“Calm down now Joe,” insisted Seamie. “Vinty here will pay yis all back what your owed, won’t you Vinty?”
“I bloody won’t!”
“Get out the pair of ye!” yelled Basil.
“Go on, get out!” roared Pearse.
“Hey now, cool it!” said Vinty getting off his stool. “This has nothing to do with me!”
Alas for Vinty; guilt by association with his lying brother was enough to condemn him also.
“Who gives a shit? You’re a prick!” retorted Pearse.
“Out yis go and don’t set foot inside my pub as long as yis live!” declared Basil shaking his fist as the duo edged their way through the unfriendly throng.
“I’ll see you both in court!” called Joe after them as they reached the door where they were half-pushed, half-kicked and thrust out into the drizzle.
“Pair a bleedin’ chancers!” said Dan rocking his head in sheer disbelief.
“Let me buy you a drink Joe,” said Pearse. “You were right and I was wrong.”
“Thanks but you’re not to blame. As I said Seamus is a crafty old so and so. He’d sell his own mother if he could!”
Outside the two unscrupulous siblings bickered acrimoniously as they trudged through the gloom. Vinty argued his corner and so did Seamie but it made no difference for after that night neither of them was believed nor bought a drink in that town ever again.
© Ciaran McVeigh 2010
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