Brave, bold and public-spirited! Israel commends her.
but its then that I notice something hard and round through the mass of hair and poo in what was the final, plug-y, clump-y section. I press at it, gingerly, through the Wagon Wheel wrapper and realize that its a piece of metal! As I do this, leaning forward, a drop of blood splashes into the snow from my chin, but Im so intrigued that I barely even notice. I press at the clump more forcefully, detach the piece of metal and hold it up closer to my face to inspect it. Believe it or not, its actually a Claddagh ring
A ?
A special kind of traditional, Irish friendship ring. Two hands one on each side cradling a central heart. I hold it out to Sinclair whos Irish. You wont believe this, I say, suddenly almost tearful. Its a Claddagh ring. The dog was corked up by a Claddagh ring! Looks like its gold, too!
Incredible! Israel exclaims.
Even as Im talking, though, the dog and its owner are strolling back towards us, the dog on its lead again. Should you tell her? Sinclair asks. No, I say, automatically, that little fucker bit my chin. Im owed.
What if its a family heirloom? Sinclair demands.
Hard cheese, I scoff.
Finders keepers, Israel confirms.
But then before I can say anything else, Jen continues, piqued, Sinclair is waving at the woman and beckoning her over. Are you missing a Claddagh ring by any chance? he asks. A what? The woman scowls. A Claddagh ring. Whats that? the woman demands. A special kind of Irish friendship ring, Sinclair says. Why dyou ask? the woman wonders. Because your dog just shat one out, I say and hold it up. She comes over to take a look, pinching her nose as a precaution against the smell. Is it gold? she wonders. Strange as this may sound, I say, I havent had the opportunity to check the hallmark.
It isnt yours, then? Sinclairs straight to the heart of the matter.
Ive never seen it before, she says, but I suppose it must be mine if my dog just shat it out.
Hmmn. Interesting logic, Israel ruminates, plucking at an imaginary beard.
Yeah. Socrates Crito has nothing on this, Jen smirks.
So what happened?
I held out the hairy, shitty Wagon Wheel wrapper with the ring in the middle of it and I said, Well, if you want it, go ahead and take it.
Good call! Israel grins. Did she?
Uh, nope, Jen chuckles. She tried. She gagged. Then she demanded I clean the ring off in the snow.
And ?
And naturally I refused.
You kept it? Israels impressed.
Hell yeah! Jens cheerfully unrepentant.
Wheres it now?
I gave it to Sinclair. I had to: hes Irish. Although hes never actually worn it
Too fastidious? Israel wonders.
Its ridiculous! Jen scowls. I told him about this brand of coffee in South America which is especially prized because the beans have been pre-digested by a civet cat
Howd he react?
He thought I was lying.
Were you?
Nope.
The phone starts ringing behind the bar. Jen turns, lackadaisically, to apprehend it.
Anyway, thats basically the story of how a constipated pooch almost ruined my love life, she concludes, adjusting her bra-strap. She then pauses for a moment, frowning. Howd we get on to that whole subject in the first place? she wonders, mystified.
Uh Israel struggles to remember. Didnt I ask for extra ice in my Coke at some point?
Oh. Yeah of course. Jen nods, distractedly, then returns to the bar (honour fully satisfied) where she rapidly devours ten Rowntrees Tooty Frooties, half a Twix, a dried, reconstituted beef sausage snack and three out-of-date packets of prawn cocktail flavour crisps.
Chapter 5
Awareness continuum?! Are you serious?
Oh. Yeah of course. Jen nods, distractedly, then returns to the bar (honour fully satisfied) where she rapidly devours ten Rowntrees Tooty Frooties, half a Twix, a dried, reconstituted beef sausage snack and three out-of-date packets of prawn cocktail flavour crisps.
Chapter 5
Awareness continuum?! Are you serious?
Sheila leans back against the sink with a loud snort of derision.
Afraid so. Gene nods. And no experience is necessary. In fact he said itd be an active disadvantage
Who needs experience? Sheila throws up her hands, dismissively. Experience is old hat! Boo shucks to experience! I mean why bother hiring a professional when theres an enthusiastic amateur up for grabs, eh?
Yours truly. Gene bows, smiling crookedly. Although Im a little thin on the enthusiasm front.
Sorry Sheila simply cant let this one go but he actually used the phrase, Awareness continuum?!
Fearlessly. Gene chuckles (evidently delighted to have captured her interest). And with no hint of irony.
Incredible!
I think his exact words were, Im tuning in to my awareness continuum.
He shakes his head, despairingly.
God forgive me for saying this, Sheila mutters, but that man truly is an intergalactic ass.
As she speaks she turns and throws the dregs of her mug of tea into the sink, then checks her watch (its only ten minutes until Evening Service), opens a nearby cupboard, removes a large bottle of indigestion tablets, tips one out on to her hand, tosses it into her mouth and chews, violently.
Hes certainly a little self-involved, Gene concedes.
A little?! she expostulates, swallowing with some difficulty, then rinsing out her mug and slamming it down on to the draining-board. The mans a sociopath, Gene! An irresponsible egomaniac. You cant seriously be thinking about accepting his offer, surely?
Of course not. Its just I dunno Gene looks hunted. Beneath all the arrogance and the bluster theres something he thinks hard for a second an awkwardness, a feeling of its like hes all at sea completely rudderless. When we arrived at the Leaside the other night he just he fell to pieces. He was petrified.
He was drunk, Sheila interrupts.
He just seems incredibly lonely.
This man smoked drugs with our teenage son, remember? she curtly reminds him. He encouraged Stan to steal the Hummer, then cheerfully abandoned him when the damn thing broke down
Ran out of petrol, Gene corrects her.
Oh, and lets not forget how he put that poor, local woman into a coma and then calmly refused to pay the family any kind of compensation. It was splashed all over the local papers again this morning
That was an accident. Gene automatically rallies to Ransoms defence. Hed recently been declared bankrupt. His insurance had lapsed
Youre a soft touch, she grumbles.
I just feel sorry for him, Sheila.
Heres a suggestion, she volunteers, brightly. Why not conserve your sympathy for someone who actually deserves it? A Somalian refugee. A Prisoner of Conscience. The poor woman whose life he destroyed with that stupid, stray golf ball
Or her crazy daughter, Gene muses, thoughtfully, then stiffens, involuntarily, once the words leave his mouth.
Her crazy daughter? Sheila frowns. She has a crazy daughter?
No. Not crazy exactly Gene rapidly starts to backtrack.
Then why call her crazy? Sheila persists.
Its just Gene bites his lip. Remember that weird incident on my rounds the other day with the little girl and the trampoline?
Nope. Sheila shakes her head.
There was a little girl jumping on a trampoline without any pants on and the neighbour asked me to have a word with the mother about it. Well the mothers the crazy daughter. In fact shes the aunt. The real mothers in rehab. The child is the crazy daughters niece. Although she isnt crazy. Shes just
Does this bizarre-sounding scenario have anything to do with your dear friend Jen, by any chance? Sheila interrupts, her eyes slitting.
Jen? Gene appears puzzled by the mention of Jen. Uh. No. Although He pauses. Although I was at the neighbours house collecting the child when Jen rang me on my mobile
Sheila stares at him for a moment, confused. So so you were running an errand for this woman?
Which woman?
The crazy daughter.
Yes. Although she isnt crazy. Shes just He thinks for a moment, and the only word to pop into his head is beautiful.
But you were actually at their house? she interjects, alarmed. You were in their house?
Whose house? Gene scowls, irritated at himself.
The Tuckers? Isnt that their name?
Unofficially, yes. But theyre actually down on the register as
Yesterday, Sheila interrupts, impatiently. This was yesterday, the day after the incident at the hotel?
Uh
Gene nods, flushing slightly under the intensity of her gaze.
Well you definitely didnt mention that before.
Sheilas certain.
Really? Gene frowns, defensive. Im pretty sure I did.
Nope. Id have remembered. I mean its such an odd coincidence, dont you think? In a town this size? The next day?! I would definitely have remembered something like that.
You were somewhat preoccupied by the whole Stan situation at the time, Gene reminds her.
And with good reason, she insists.
Absolutely.
They stare at each other for a second, neither giving way, and then, Lost! she snorts. Lonely?!
Ill drop Mallory off at speech therapy, Gene promises (refusing to get embroiled), but shell need collecting just after seven thirty
You think by using loaded words like lonely and awkward youll tug on my Christian heartstrings and then Ill miraculously relent, is that it? she demands, her eyes shining, combatively.
Well what would Jesus do? Gene asks, trying not to laugh.
Lost! she snorts again. Like some innocent, little lamb strayed off the path of righteousness? Youre unbelievable!
He shrugs, self-deprecatingly.
Unbelievable, she repeats. But dyou know what the most maddening part of it all is?
The light in her eyes fades ever so slightly.
What? Genes suddenly wary.
Youre completely right!
I am?
Of course you are. And I know it. Why else do you think my stomachs perpetually cramping up into knots she rattles the indigestion tablet bottle, vengefully and Ive no sodding fingernails left to speak of?
Please dont think Im just shifting the blame here, Gene mutters, but from where Im currently standing the PCC arent helping matters much, either.
Urgh. The PCC, she echoes, wincing. Why not throw in the threatened closure of the allotments while youre at it?
The Samuel Wright-Todd Memorial Window? he suggests, grinning.
She closes her eyes for a second. I never thought itd be a walk in the park, Gene, she grumbles, her shoulders slumping forward, but the constant, niggling criticisms, the petty infighting, the complete lack of support from above