The Guts Read Online Free

his brother – or his father. And the woman sitting on her own with her vodka parked exactly in the centre of her table, like it might be someone else’s.
    Jimmy knew her.
    —Imelda?
    She looked at him.
    —Jimmy Rabbitte! For fuck sake!
    She laughed and stood and opened her arms and he marched in there between them and felt her hands slide across his back. He was late with his own hands, getting them to move. She kissed his cheek, about half an inch from his lips. Then she stepped back, nearly into the table behind her. She laughed again.
    —Let’s see yeh.
    She smiled at him.
    —You’re lookin’ well, Jimmy.
    —So are you, he said.
    —Ah well.
    She
was
looking well. She might have been a bit pissed – Jimmy wasn’t sure – and a few kilos heavier, but Imelda Quirk would never not look well.
    His da was at the door.
    —Yeh righ’? he shouted.
    —Just a minute, Jimmy shouted back.
    —Yeh goin’ somewhere? said Imelda.
    —Yeah, said Jimmy.—Yeah.
Home to my wife, to tell her I have cancer
. ’Fraid so.
    —Typical Jimmy, said Imelda.—Always runnin’.
    He didn’t know what to say – he hadn’t a clue.
    —Get out your phone, she said.
    —Wha’?
    He could feel his da looking at him. But he looked across to the door and his da wasn’t there.
    —Your phone, Jimmy, said Imelda.—Not your mickey.
    He laughed. He wasn’t blushing, and that made him ridiculously happy. He took his mobile from his pocket.
    —Ready? she said.
    —You’re givin’ me your number.
    —You’re still a fuckin’ genius.
    He laughed again. She recited the number, quickly.
    —Get tha’?
    —No bother, he said.
    He saved the number.
    —Phone me, she said.—When you want to.
    —Will do, he said.—Great seein’ yeh. It must be twenty years.
    —Don’t fuckin’ start, she said – she smiled.—I was still in primary school twenty years ago. Is that understood?
    —Loud an’ clear, said Jimmy.—I’m gone. I’ll phone yeh.
    He probably wouldn’t. He had cancer, kids, a wife he loved.
    —Grand, she said.
    She was sitting down again. There’d be no kiss goodbye, no hug.
    —Tomorrow maybe, he said as he left.
    —It’s up to you, Jimmy.
    His da was leaning against Jimmy’s car and the alarm was going. He’d heard it inside when he was talking to Imelda. Now though, it was loud – and his. He pointed the key and clicked. It stopped.
    —Did yeh fuckin’ jump on it?
    —No, said his da.—It went off the minute I fuckin’ looked at it. I was only walkin’ over.
    —Anyway, said Jimmy.—I’m gone.
    —Grand, said his da.
    —To face the music.
    —It must feel like tha’, does it?
    —A bit, said Jimmy.—But look it. Thanks.
    —You’re grand, said Jimmy Sr.
    He rubbed his hand across his mouth.
    —It hasn’t sunk in, he said.
    —I know.
    —I’ll say nothin’ at home.
    —No. Thanks.
    —Well —
    Jimmy’s da put his hand out, high. He touched Jimmy’s neck.
    —Fuckin’ hell, son.
    —I know.
    —Go on.
    —I’m goin’.
    —Phone me, said Jimmy Sr.—Any time, righ’?
    —Yeah, said Jimmy.—Thanks.
    He opened his door.
    —D’you want a lift?
    —No. You’re grand. I’ll walk.
    —Righ’. Good luck.
    Jimmy got into the car. It was warm. There’d been heat in the sun, although it was getting dark now. He waited till his da was walking away before he shut the car door.
    He filled the dishwasher. He took a white wash out to the line and hung the clothes in the dark. He kept an eye on the kitchen window while he did it, to see if Aoife was alone in there. She wasn’t. He watched her, angry and gorgeous, giving out shite to Mahalia. He came back in – she was gone. He made tea. He didn’t drink it. He emptied the dishwasher. She came in, followed by Brian, then Mahalia.
    He tapped Brian on the shoulder.
    —Come here. You as well, May.
    He brought them in to the telly. He pointed at it.
    —That’s a television.
    Brian laughed.
    —Now, said Jimmy.—You sit in front of it. That’s right,