Suzy Suzy Read online

  She looked at me and she said, He has to turn it on when he goes to the office.

  And I said, That’s like two hours’ time, Mam.

  And she said, I know.

  Where’s Tony? I said.

  Upstairs in bed.

  Didn’t he go to the hospital?

  He can’t. He was in a fight and if he goes in they’ll report him.

  I stared at her. I was thinking, What if he has a brain injury?

  I said, Seriously, Mam, he might be hurt.

  But she just kept dialling. She has a Huawei. It’s a crap phone but it’s what she likes. She doesn’t want an iPhone. She got the Huawei for twenty euro on a special offer. She likes the screen. All she uses it for is making phone calls and texting. Or so I believe. My dad hates it. He is embarrassed if she uses it in company. See-saw, Margery Daw. He goes up, she comes down. My fucking life I swear.

  I went up to my brother’s room and knocked on the door. There was no answer so I went in. Like our family is obsessed about privacy except for my mam walking into the bathroom when I’m peeing which is meant to be a girl thing. Not. It’s like everything is private except the most embarrassing thing. Once she even saw me changing my pad ffs. But we never go into each other’s rooms.

  He was still asleep. Some time during the night he kicked the duvet off. He was lying on the bed in his underpants and I could see that there were scars on his legs but they were old scars, very old, and not very many. I had more already. So that was why he gave me the razors. The bastard. But there were bruises on his ribs, dark blue-black circles with wine-coloured spots in the centre. And there were bruises on his arms. And his nose looked all right this morning even though it was a bit swollen and there was blood around the rim. But what really shocked me was how fit he looked. Like he must have been working out. I never knew he went to the gym. He had abs and biceps and all the rest of it. He was like a wounded god. For the first time ever I saw that my brother was beautiful. I guess my mam always knew. She has always been in love with him. I blushed. I don’t know why. I backed out of the room and closed the door.

  43

  It was Serena who found out where my dad was living. Clarinda Park, where we had an empty house. He wasn’t living with Miss Morocco idk maybe she wouldn’t have him. By then my mam had her mobile switched off. She wasn’t texting him and she wasn’t speed-dialling him any more. Her heart had hardened. When a heart gets too hard it just breaks. Mine was breaking too. I could feel it. I spent four days shaking and thinking where is my dad? What if he dies and I’m not there? Like that’s the other side of, What if he dies when I’m there? Idk. I’m confused. Then I was just sad. Holly and Serena told me stories. Like your dad is hiding out from the Revenue. Your dad is gone somewhere to get money to pay them off. Fairytales. It wasn’t the money. So after school one day me and Serena and Holly went to Clarinda Park. Holly does German and French. She hates Miss Philpott. Like one time Holly made a mistake in grammar and Miss Philpott said there was no place in the German language for stupidity. Like what the actual fuck? Does that even mean anything? Holly says having a teacher who is a Nazi is normal. C’est la vie, she says. She says, At least I’m not Greek. I don’t get that and neither does Serena. But as we were walking Holly did the names of the roads in a German accent. Like, Emperley, Eshley, Villowmere, Eshley Mound, Kinksvay, Ze Pattocks, Vyndham Cloze, Eshley Cloze. And then she makes a sort of orgasmic sound. And then, Oh Kenzinkton Downz, Brrrrierly Downz, Entzleigh, Clarinda Park. Her and Serena thought it was hilarious and I laughed too, but inside I was just sad. Then she was taking off Angela Merkel. She can do Angela Merkel like she was real. Leary hates Merkel. Holly can do languages, it’s her thing. She says she is going to learn a new language every five years. Next up is Italian. Emperley is Amberley. Only knobs live there. Like every second house is Inhabited By An Executive Of A Fortune 500 Company with Electric Gates and Cameras. I imagine him sitting in his office watching us going by on his mobile phone. We try to see if the cameras track us but they are maybe fixed cameras. That’s the bargain-basement option. The real deal is cameras you can control yourself. Like imagine you’re on holidays in Bermuda or wherever Fortune 500 guys go to chill, and you’re sitting by the pool with some totally hot blonde and you’re on your gold-plated iPhone watching some skanky langer in a tracksuit and a ski mask breaking in your back window and nicking your kit. A camera would ruin a trip to Bermuda.

  After Amberley comes Ashley. Business people and comfortable professionals. Electric gates, no cameras. Then it’s downhill all the way, geographically and economically. At the very bottom, where my dad puts his money, Clarinda Park is for students and people with JobBridge internships and immigrants. My dad specialises in skangers. His business model is heavily dependent on Rent Supplement and the Household Benefits Package and the Student Assistance Fund. It was a new trend he spotted right at the beginning of The Crash. He was an early adopter.

  Clarinda Park was two lines of twenty houses, four of them empty and boarded up. The road was bad, like so many potholes, mostly stones as white as bone. There was only one functioning streetlight and a few places where they planned to put more before The Crash. Like poles with no lights, or holes with no poles. There were also eight houses that were not boarded up that had no furniture in them. I said to Holly, This is what they call a ghost estate. Like we did that ‘Ghost Estate’ poem in Fifth. If you lived here you’d be home by now idk I’m not sure I got it. She said this place was too young to have ghosts. And I said, You can have ghosts at any age. My dad’s car wasn’t there but he would finish at the office in an hour, except I was in the office twice looking for him and they said he wasn’t in. So he wasn’t going to the office. Which is like The Nuclear Option. It was a warm day with a blue sky. We went round the back. There were patio chairs and a table. The garden was all ratty grass. No plants. There was a timber fence about a metre high. His washing was on the clothes line, three underpants, two vests, four shirts and a pair of pants. No socks. Idk it was sad. At home my dad was always complaining that my brother stole his socks, but it was usually just one of a pair that was missing so idk. I wondered if they went missing in Clarinda Park too.

  A neighbour came out to her garden and asked us if we were OK. Like if we were burglars or winos we would just sit around on the patio for a couple of hours. I said I was waiting for my dad to get home. She gave me a sad look. Did we want a cup of tea? We said no thanks. Serena asked her to take a pic of the three of us on her phone. She gave her the phone. It was a top of the range iPhone. Serena is the kind of person who has her phone insured. The woman took a pic and gave it back. She went back inside. She was watching telly, we could see her sitting on a couch with her back to the window. The couch was huge. There was some kind of food programme on. All that was in the room was a forty-eight inch flat screen and a couch. It was like no humans need apply.

  My dad houses were always Fully Furnished To A High Standard, one-hundred-per-cent IKEA, with All Appliances Including Microwave because my dad said unfurnished houses gave tenants more rights. My dad is Against Tenant Rights. In History he would have been a landlord and he would have been against the Land League which everyone is agreed was a good thing. Michael Davitt is a hero in Irish history because he won tenant rights, Fair Rent, Fixity Of Tenure, Free Sale. I think that’s partly because he had one arm. Wounded people are often heroes. Our History teacher told us that he was a friend of Karl Marx’s sister or daughter. Like that’s not much. It’s like saying, A friend of a friend knows Somebody Important. Like the seven degrees of separation. But seven degrees is too much and there is no way the guy in the seventh degree is going to help you out of trouble. Like I might be seven degrees from Barack Obama but if I write to him with a bullet point list of how we’re only seven degrees apart, is he going to come over here and tell my parents to get together again and stop fighting before they kill us all?

  Maybe Michael Davitt was a friend of Karl Marx too, the way Tosser is a
friend of mine because he’s a friend of my brother, but history does not record.

  My dad’s car drove up at twenty minutes past five. We waited until he got inside and saw us through the patio door. Holly started to blush but Serena just looked from him to me. She was curious about how people who shouted would act together. He opened the sliding door and said, Hi, girls. Serena said, Hi. Holly said, Hi, Mr Regan. I said, Hi, Dad.

  We stood there looking at each other for a bit. Then I went in and closed the patio door. My dad didn’t say anything because he knew why I was there. I knew what his first thought was so I told him. Mam didn’t send me, Dad, and she doesn’t know I’m here.

  He gave me a look like a hurt dog. Like The Dog gives me when I shout at him, or there’s shouting in the house. He hates arguments. So that started me crying. I couldn’t stop and I put my hands over my face. And after a bit I felt his arms around me. Idk when he last put his arms around me, maybe I was a baby. We stood there like that, not saying anything, and all the while I knew Serena was watching me to see how it’s done. After a while my dad said, If I come home what will your mam say?

  I don’t know.

  I don’t either.

  She was ringing you like crazy the first two days but you never answered.

  I needed to work things out.

  So what did you work out, Dad?

  He stepped away from me. I wasn’t crying now. He was staring at the window. I saw Holly sitting with her back turned and Serena staring straight in. Jason Clancy was texting Holly for a date. She got eleven texts in four days. I just knew she was replying to another one. She had that pissed-off texting look to her shoulders. Jason is a one hundred per cent langer. Even Holly sees that.

  That Serena has no manners, he said.

  What did you work out, Dad?

  Nothing.

  I said, Can we have a cup of tea? We came straight from school.

  How did you know I was here?

  Is this the only house we own here?

  He waved to Holly and Serena. He opened the patio door for them. Want a cup of tea, girls? I have biscuits.

  Yes please, Mr Regan, Serena said, smiling like fucking the devil Annabelle the doll in The Conjuring. They came in.

  My friend Serena, all sweetness and light. Miss Sweetie herself. FFS.

  Tea and biscuits, my dad said, and then I’ll drive you home.

  Serena brushed against him as she came in and then looked up at him and smiled and said, Sorry, Mr Regan.

  My dad looked at me. He knew I saw. She makes me sick.

  44

  My mam had her phone in her hand like she was going to ring someone, the guards or the ambulance or even my dad. She was leaning against the kitchen sink. She was looking at my dad. My dad was looking at her. Then she started to slap her phone against the palm of her other hand. There was a flock of birds on the purple tree in our garden. It was directly behind my mam and I could see them tearing something off. Maybe buds or flowers. Do birds eat buds? They were just ripping things and throwing them away. She said, There’s letters for you, I would have forwarded them but I didn’t have an address, they’re from the Revenue, I got them too.

  Dad: What do they say?

  Mam: They want us to come in again. My solicitor says they’re going to declare us bankrupt.

  Dad: Your solicitor?

  Mam: That’s what she said.

  Dad: When did she make this pronouncement? How long have you been talking to her about me?

  My mam sighed. Then she turned around and ran the cold tap. Then she took a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with cold water. Then she drank it. All of it, all the way down, a whole glass of water in one go. It’s a family tradition in my house, drinking water when you’re stressed. Other people go for the drinks cabinet, but with us it’s the cold tap. Except my dad who needs alcohol in everything. This may be because all our best fights happen in the kitchen and there is no drinks cabinet to hand. They seemed to have forgotten about me. Then she turned around again.

  I asked you months ago, she said, and you said everything was fine, we were back on our feet again, the houses were paying. You said we’d turned the corner.

  What fucking corner? There’s no corners. It’s just one long road.

  Downhill.

  My dad shrugged. You were happy enough in the good times.

  Matt, she said, I was never happy. You are a complete shit, you are now and you always were. I was sorry I married you on the day I married you and nothing has changed. There were never good times.

  That’s what you say now, but you usen’t to say it. You’re only saying it because of the Revenue.

  I asked my solicitor if I divorced you now would I still be liable and she said I would.

  You asked her about if you divorced me?

  She said I would carry the debt with me the same as I would carry the property. Half and half.

  Your fucking solicitor? She couldn’t write a postcard nevermind a fucking divorce letter. I warned you she was a bimbo, a complete airhead. She’s a blonde for fuck’s sake.

  You’ll find out soon enough if she’s an airhead. She’ll be writing to you. She’ll be looking for discovery of documents. I have a right to them as a director. Get on to Molloy and remind him you donated at the last election.

  I already did. He told me it was the Revenue and he had his own share of worries. You know that old-folks home that was on the telly? He’s a director there. Non-Exec.

  He’s a useless fucker anyway, my mam said. He’d only screw everything up.

  My father sat down at the kitchen table. In the window behind his head I saw two blue-tits making out, or at least thinking about making out. They were flying around each other the way you can make two hands turn around each other. Like if you were cold. But they were excited. Spring was beginning. It was all happening for them.

  You want me to go again? he said.

  She looked at him and then she seemed to notice me. She looked at me for an awful long time. I held my breath until I had to let it go. Then she said, No. Stay if you like.

  I heard him breathing again too. He said, We’ll work something out.

  I’m going to the Revenue separately. I’m going to make my own case. You can do your silence routine for yourself, but I’m going to hang you. You’re the one who didn’t pay your tax, not me.

  45

  Then everything seemed to be good again idk they didn’t fight. It was like restructuring was in progress. A new and better kind of Mam and Dad. But after a few days I started to worry that there was no fighting. It was unnatural. And my dad was like a zombie. Not like a zombie because of drugs. It was just he didn’t seem to react to anything. Like he was cold idk or somewhere else. Once I swear I saw him park the car in the drive outside and bounce his head off the steering wheel twice. It’s a leather-coated wheel though, so I don’t think he did much damage. There is something wrong I know.

  Is there like a time when you’re grown up when you know what’s going on? When it’s not so scary?

  Another time I saw him in the bathroom. He was standing at the sink just looking at himself in the mirror. The door was open. He didn’t see me. I don’t know how long he was standing there.

  In bed I’d listen all the time they were downstairs and when they went up I listened for as long as I could stay awake. I knew I shouldn’t listen.

  Sometimes I would hear low talking. Like people making clandestine plans. Or people with something terrible to say. How was I supposed to know? Like I’m seventeen years-of-age. How Am I Supposed To Know Anything?

  I think they were both taking my dad’s sleeping pills. Or else my mam got her own supply. Our doctor would prescribe cocaine if you asked him. If the pharmacy stocked it. By the end of the week I couldn’t sleep. I was lying awake listening to the silence. I’d hear my brother come in. Sometimes The Dog barked at him. I would say, As soon as Tony is asleep I’ll fall asleep too. But it’s one thing you can’t wait for or expe
ct. Eventually I slogged one of dad’s pills and that night was a Saturday night and I slept until after twelve on Sunday.

  And the next morning was the Monday that my dad told me their secret plan. The Revenue were going to serve some notice on him and he needed to be out of sight. We were all going to go to this house that was owned by a friend of his way Out In The Wilderness idk Kerry or somewhere. A holiday cottage. We stayed in holiday cottages before. They’re OK. Him and me would go first and get the place warmed up. We would be joined by Mam and Tony as soon as she got out of work. We were going to lie low there because the Revenue would not be able to serve a summons which has to be done in person. The way Dad talked we were the French Resistance. We were headed for the hills and the Gestapo would never find us. I was to pack my bag that night and leave it under my bed and he would pick me up from school during the day on Tuesday. He would say I had a doctor’s appointment. Then we would disappear into the hills and forests until the war was over. I said, Dad this is like absconding. It seemed to me that my dad’s answer to everything was to hide out somewhere for a while. I had a bad feeling we were all moving into Clarinda Park and that was his real secret plan. Jesus wept for the third time. It was complete crap.

  Me: Dad, are you OK? Like I’m worried about you. Are you depressed?

  Dad: Oh for God’s sake, Suzy, stop googling everything.

  Me: I didn’t google it, Dad. I’m just worried.

  But actually I did google it. My dad is acting weird, hitting his head, walking around like a zombie, not talking, taking sleeping pills. I got: Learn First Aid for psychosis; Symptoms of substance-induced psychotic disorder; I feel like I’m losing my mind, I beg of you to reply; My life as an Ambien Zombie. It turns out that Ambien is a sedative used in the short-term treatment of insomnia. I got one point one million hits. That’s Google.

  Me: Are you and Mam going to break up?