Faithful Place (Dublin Murder Squad, #3)(48)

Shay stared at me; I gave him a big innocent smile. “Francis,” he said. “Our man on the inside. Our man in the system. Why would you care what a renegade like me does with himself?”

“Brotherly love.”

“More like you think it’ll be crap, and you want that nice warm feeling that you’ve beaten me again. Try this on for size. I’m buying the bike shop.”

Just saying it brought a faint red flush onto his cheekbones. Kevin snorted; Jackie’s high-up eyebrows shot up even farther. “Fair play to you,” she said. “Our Shay, the entrepreneur, wha’?”

“Nice one,” I said. “When you’re the Donald Trump of the bike world, I’ll come to you for my BMXs.”

“Conaghy’s retiring next year, and his son wants nothing to do with the business; he sells flash cars, bikes aren’t good enough for him. So Conaghy gave me first refusal.”

Kevin had surfaced from his sulk enough to look up from his pint. He asked, “Where’re you going to get the dosh?”

The hot glitter in Shay’s eyes made me see what girls saw in him. “I’ve got half of it already. I’ve been saving for this for a long time. The bank’s giving me the rest. They’re tightening up on the loans—they know there’s trouble ahead, same as Lavery does—but I got in there just in time. This time next year, lads, I’ll be a man of independent means.”

Carmel said, “Well done,” but there was something in her voice that caught my ear; something like reserve. “Ah, that’s great altogether. Well done.”

Shay took a swig of his pint and tried to play it cool, but there was a grin pressing at the corners of his mouth. “Like I told Kev, there’s no point spending your life working to fill someone else’s pockets. The only way to get anywhere is to be your own boss man. I’m just putting my money where my mouth is.”

“So?” Kevin asked. “If you’re actually right and the country’s going down the tubes or whatever, you’re still going with it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, mate. When this week’s rich pricks find out they’re in the shit, that’s when I get my chance. Back in the eighties, when no one we knew had the money for a car, how did we get around? On bikes. As soon as the bubble bursts, Daddy’s not going to be able to buy his little darlings BMWs to drive the half mile to school any more. That’s when they show up at my door. I can’t wait to see the faces on the little cunts.”

“Whatever,” Kevin said. “That’s lovely, that is. Really.” He went back to staring into his pint.

Carmel said, “Will it not mean living above the shop?”

Shay’s eyes went to her, and something complicated passed between them. “It will. Yeah.”

“And working full-time. Your hours won’t be flexible any more.”

“Melly,” Shay said, much more gently, “it’ll be all right. Conaghy’s not retiring for a few months yet. By that time . . .”

Carmel took a tiny breath and nodded, like she was bracing for something. “Right,” she said, almost to herself, and lifted her glass to her lips.

“I’m telling you. Don’t be worrying.”

“Ah, no, you’re grand. God knows you deserve your chance. The way you’ve been the last while, sure, I knew you’d something up your sleeve; I just didn’t . . . I’m delighted for you. Congratulations.”

“Carmel,” Shay said. “Look at me. Would I do that to you?”

“Here,” Jackie said. “What’s the story?”

Shay put a finger on Carmel’s glass and moved it down so he could see her face. I’d never seen him tender before, and I found it even less soothing than Carmel did. “Listen to me. All the doctors said there’s only a few months in it. Six, max. By the time I buy, he’ll be in a home or in a chair, or anyway too weak to do any damage.”

“God forgive us,” Carmel said softly. “Hoping for . . .”

I said, “What’s going on?”

They turned to stare at me, two identical pairs of expressionless blue eyes. It was the first time I’d seen them look alike. I said, “Are you telling me Da still hits Ma?”

A fast twitch like an electric shock went round the table, a tiny hiss of indrawn breath. “You mind your business,” Shay said, “and we’ll mind ours.”

“Who elected you spokesgobshite?”

Carmel said, “We’d rather there was someone around, is all. In case Da has a fall.”

I said, “Jackie told me that had stopped. Years back.”

Shay said, “Like I told you. Jackie hasn’t a clue. None of yous lot ever did. So f*ck off out of it.”

I said, “Do you know something? I’m getting just a tiny bit sick of you acting like you’re the only one who ever had to take Da’s shit.”

Nobody was breathing. Shay laughed, a low ugly sound. He said, “You think you took shit from him?”

“I’ve got the scars to prove it. You and me lived in the same house, mate, remember? The only difference is that me, now I’m a big boy, I can go an entire conversation without whingeing about it.”

“You took f*ck-all, pal. Sweet f*ck-all. And we didn’t live in the same house, not for a single day. You lived in the lap of luxury, you and Jackie and Kevin, compared to what me and Carmel got.”