The Barrytown Trilogy by Roddy Doyle Read Free Book Online Page B

that, they now knew about his past. They’d seen the photographs of Joey The Lips with the stars:
    Joey The Lips and Otis Redding on horses, on Otis’ ranch, Joey The Lips said.
    Joey The Lips on-stage lying on his back, behind him James Brown’s legs, one of them blurred.
    Joey The Lips, with hair, in the studio, Gladys Knight, headphoned, smiling at him.
    Joey The Lips and Marvin Gaye, both in skull caps and caftans, standing in front of a pile of rubble, Detroit.
    There was even one of Joey The Lips with B. P. Fallon, Fallon with his arm around Joey The Lips’ shoulders, half of Yoko Ono’s head in the background.
    And Jimmy had found Joey The Lips’ name in the credits on a few of his albums. (—Is tha’ our Joey? Outspan asked.
    —Yep, said Jimmy.
    —Fuckin’ hell, said Outspan.
    He read the list to Derek.
    —Berry Gordy, Smokey Robinson, Lamont Dozier, Joey Irish Fagan, Steve Cropper, Martha Reeves, Diana Ross and The Lord, Jehovah. ———Who’s he?) When they saw Joey The Lips looking pleased they knew they were doing alright. And Joey The Lips always looked pleased.
    * * *
    Or, Joey The Lips nearly always looked pleased. He looked shocked when Dean found Natalie kissing him.
    Dean wasn’t looking for them when he found them. He was shutting the garage door and they were behind it. He pulled the door in towards him and there they were, Joey The Lips the one up against the wall, which struck Dean as unusual when he thought about it later. Natalie jumped back, leaving Joey The Lips’ right hand holding air. Dean was going to put the door back but Joey The Lips spoke. Natalie had dashed back inside.
    —Do I look different? said Joey The Lips.
    —No, Joey.
    —Good good, said Joey The Lips. —Because you fairly ruffled my savoir faire there, Dean, my man.
    —I, said Dean. ———I thought yeh were goin’ for chips.
    —I am gone, Dean.
    If that was a hint or a plea or an order Dean didn’t know it because he told the lads when he got back inside. He wasn’t ratting. He needed to hear himself saying it. Then he’d be able to believe it.
    —FUCK OFF! said Outspan.
    —Honest to God, said Dean.
    —Where? said Derek.
    —Ou’ there, said Dean. ——Behind the door.
    —It’s not fuckin’ dark yet.
    —I know.
    —My Jaysis, wha’!
    —Fuckin’ hell!
    —HEY, YOU! Deco roared across the garage at Natalie.
    Natalie was filling the girls in on how she’d got on with Joey The Lips.
    —Were you havin’ it off with Joey behind the door?
    —Fuck yourself.
    —Were yeh?
    —What’s it to you if she was? said Bernie.
    —You’re fuckin’ taller than him! Deco shouted.
    This went against nature.
    —So?
    None of the lads could answer that one. It was ridiculous, but it hurt too. Natalie was a good looking, a lovely looking young one, younger than them. Joey The Lips was a baldy little bollix nearly fifty. He wore slippers———
    For a few minutes The Commitments broke up.
    But Jimmy snapped out of it. It happened when he went from the general to the particular. It wasn’t Imelda Joey The Lips had got off with. It was Natalie. He didn’t fancy Natalie. It was cool.
    —It’s a free country, lads, said Jimmy.
    —God though, said Derek.
    —It’s not on, said Deco.
    He hit the wall, not too hard.
    Billy looked from one face to the next for some sign of hope.
    —It’s like doin’ it with your fuckin’ da, he said.
    —Wha’? said Dean. ——Nat’lie, like? ———Oh, now I get yeh. ———Yeah.
    Outspan asked Dean a question.
    —Tongues?
    —O’ course.
    —I’m goin’ to be sick.
    —That’s fuckin’ cat, tha’ is, said Derek.
    —Come on, lads, said Jimmy.
    He slapped his hands together.
    —Cop on, come on. ——Joey’s one o’ the lads.
    —He’s a fuckin’ oul’ fella.
    —He’s not like other oul’ fellas.
    —He’s exactly like other oul’ fellas.
    —Do other oul’ fellas play in groups? said Jimmy. —Did your oul’ fella play with The Beatles?
    —My