Bad Catholics by James Green Read Free Book Online

remember.’
    â€˜No, you wouldn’t have noticed me. It was the night Joe Green offered you a contract. I was there.’
    â€˜You know Joe Green?’
    Green was a manager with fighters like Billy Shiels and Larry Horgan.
    â€˜Not personally. Jack Lonsdale said Joe was going to see you, so I tagged along.’
    â€˜Lonsdale? The bloke in The Hind?’
    â€˜Yeah, it’s not his name over the door but it’s his pub.’
    â€˜What’s he got to do with Joe Green?’
    â€˜If you had signed you would have been sold on to Lonsdale.’
    â€˜Is he a manager as well as a pub owner?’
    â€˜He’s all sorts of things.’
    â€˜And where do you fit in?’
    â€˜I get around. I’m getting to know the right people. That’s how I got the job in The Hind.’
    â€˜Didn’t last though, did it?’
    â€˜That’s nothing. I made a mistake and got the elbow. If I’d made a real mistake,’ he smiled, ‘Lonsdale would have broken my elbow or some other bits.’
    â€˜What are you telling me?’ asked Jimmy, stopping. ‘Are you saying Lonsdale is a crook?’
    â€˜No, no,’ laughed George, ‘he’s just a poor unemployed bloke who lives in Swiss Cottage and owns a Jag for weekdays and a Daimler for Sundays. He’s lucky with the horses, I guess, or got rich relatives or something. No one, and I mean not anyone, will ever hear me say Jack Lonsdale has ever broken any law, never.’ Then he winked. ‘Look, we’re nearly there now, let me show you something, somewhere special.’
    â€˜No,’ said Jimmy firmly. He wasn’t interested in strip joints, dives, or girlie bars. He was still as uncomfortable with public sex as he was with obscenities in mixed company. His soul had never quite cast off its altar boy’s cassock and he always felt his mother would somehow be there, appalled and ashamed. He was attracted to sex but never comfortable with it.
    George made a guess. He was a good guesser, that was one of his talents.
    â€˜No, Jimmy, nothing like that. It’s a jazz club, next on the left, just a few doors down.’
    Jimmy had heard jazz on the radio, but a jazz club was a new idea.
    The club wasn’t in some smoke-filled basement as Jimmy had expected, it was over a launderette. They went up some stairs towards the sound of music. George insisted on paying for them both and they went inside. It didn’t look as Jimmy had expected either. It was quite well lit, but toned down to make an atmosphere and it wasn’t very smoky. The tables had blue gingham, plastic tablecloths and the customers were of all ages from thirty to sixty. The age group missing was Jimmy and George’s, who had no time for jazz because they had discovered rock ’n’ roll. They were the youngest there. On a small stage in a corner of the room was a trio: piano, double bass, and drums. The music was also not as Jimmy had expected and certainly wasn’t trad jazz. George led him to a table where a man and a woman in their thirties were already sitting. They nodded as George and Jimmy sat down.
    â€˜Know them?’
    George shook his head.
    It was a friendly place then, thought Jimmy, and he began to listen to the music. The trio played for another twenty minutes. Apart from the clapping and shuffling of chairs between the pieces there was little movement. Then the lights went up to full and the pianist announced an interval. George got up.
    â€˜Want a drink?’
    â€˜No.’ Jimmy didn’t drink shorts and he didn’t think they’d serve mild.
    George left the table and returned with a bottle of Coke and a glass.
    â€˜No bar?’
    â€˜Yeah, but it’s all wine and shorts, Dubonnet, stuff like that.’ He poured out some Coke and took a drink. ‘I don’t like alcohol, it gives me a headache.’
    Jimmy found himself taking to George. ‘Like the music,