Brilliant by Roddy Doyle Read Free Book Online

can’t see.”
    He tried to sound casual.
    â€œI might step in something yucky.”
    â€œBrilliant,” said Gloria, and the word popped open above them and filled the passage between the houses with gentle yellow light. They were shocked but not all that surprised.

    Brilliant
was the busiest word in Dublin. It was the city’s favorite word. Everyone in Dublin said “Brilliant” at least twenty-seven times a day, and more than a million people lived in Dublin. So “Brilliant” was whispered, shouted, roared, bawled, screamed, laughed, or just plain said at least twenty-seven million times a day.
    It started first thing in the morning.
    â€œI’m still alive. Brilliant!”
    And it went on, all through the day.
    â€œWhat’s for breakfast?”
    â€œThe usual.”
    â€œBrilliant.”
    â€œOh, look, it’s stopped raining.”
    â€œBrilliant.”
    All day.
    â€œHere’s the bus.”
    â€œBrilliant.”
    â€œThere’s two of them!”
    â€œDouble brilliant!”
    Wherever people met each other or just walked past, the “Brilliant”s filled the air. Even when there was no one around, a deserted corner or an empty shop, the echoes of the “Brilliant”s bounced and rolled along the walls or ceilings for hours after the people who’d said them had left.
    â€œBrilliant.”
    â€œBrilliant.”
    â€œBrilliant.”
    â€œ. . . brilliant . . .”
    â€œ. . . brilliant . . . .”
    â€œ. . . . . . . . . . illia . . . . . . . . . .”
    On the busy streets, in the places where people worked and played, in the schools and playgrounds and the cafes and churches—
    â€œThe Lord is my shepherd.”
    â€œAh, that’s brilliant.”
    The offices, the kitchens, the bathrooms, the nurseries, the shopping centers, the libraries—
    â€œBrilliant!”
    â€œShuushhhhhhh!”
    â€œSorry.”

    The football fields and tennis courts, the gyms and the swimming pools, the buses, the train stations, the petrol stations and inside the taxis, the hospitals—
    â€œNo bones broken, anyway.”
    â€œBrilliant.”
    The pubs and the clubs and the cinemas and theaters, the parks and the waiting rooms, anywhere where there were people, the air was stuffed with “Brilliant”s.
    And that was on the quiet days.
    â€œThat was a great funeral.”
    â€œBrilliant.”
    It was a great word, really. It burst out of your mouth when you said it.

    â€œHow’s the soup?”
    â€œBrilliant!”
    â€œAh, look what you’ve done to me shirt!”
    It was a handy word, very adaptable. It could be used in all sorts of ways.
    â€œThe car won’t start.”
    â€œWell, that’s just brilliant.”
    It made people smile, even when they didn’t want to.
    â€œMy dog’s dying.”
    â€œAh, no. What was his name?”
    â€œBrilliant.”
    â€œAhhh, that’s brilliant.”
    And that was the problem.
Brilliant
was a brilliant word. It lit everything around it. It was hard to see the gloom when the word was constantly bursting all over the city, like a firework display that never ended. But sometimes—only for brief moments, when very few people were talking—the sadness was there to be seen, on the faces, across the shoulders, in the feet. The adults of Dublin were low. They were worried and sometimes angry. They worried about the future. They felt trapped, surrounded by bad news. There was no escape.
    But then someone would say, “Brilliant.” And the gloom would disappear.

CHAPTER 6

    B rilliant,” said Gloria, and the word popped open above them and filled the passage with a gentle yellow light that made the trash bins glow.
    They knew the light wouldn’t last long, so Raymond got going again and Gloria followed him out, past their dad’s parked car, out to the street.
    Raymond stopped. And so did