Love on the Dark Side of the City Read online

  But somehow, Adizua’s standing presence made it easier to help him than to rob him.

  Although Adizua’s posture was submissive and non-threatening, he was ready if attacked.

  “Get into the back of the van” Phelan said, “you’ll be caught out on the open road at night. You can stay with us till tomorrow. If you go into Naas in the morning you can get a bus to Dublin without raising too much suspicion. There are a number of blacks in Naas these days. You know, asylum seekers. If you are careful you won’t be singled out.”

  “Thank you” Adizua said. He sensed that his rescuers were somehow outside the law and was grateful for their help.

  Paddy, the middle of the three in terms of age got in behind the wheel. Joe sat beside him on the passenger seat and Phelan sat opposite Adizua on the floor inside the van. There were a couple of large drills and sledgehammers and some machinery in the back of the van and they had squeezed in between them.

  “We’ve bin scavenging,” Phelan said indicating to the load in the van. “Off a builders yard” he added by way of explanation.

  “Cider?” the old man Joe, thrust a bottle in front of Adizua’s face. For politeness sake Adizua took a swig and passed the bottle over to Phelan who had a long pull on the bottle and handed it in to the driver. The bottle circulated until it was empty and Paddy threw it out the window.

  The van clattered along. From inside the van Adizua had no idea where they were going. He could see that they were down dark unlit roads.

  They rattled along in silence, the noise of the engine and the rattle of the goods in the back making conversation difficult.

  To a chorus of barking dogs, the van pulled in alongside a row of caravans parked along the roadside. As Adizua stepped out of the van he was surprised at the sight. He had seen caravans in campsites on the continent, but this was different. This was where these people lived and he wondered at their way of life.

  “I’ll see what’s up and get you a couple of blankets, help the lads unload the van,” Phelan said.

  Adizua helped Paddy to unload the van. Joe was out of it with drink and the best he could manage to help was to take a few of the sledgehammers out one at a time. Joe came back and helped them and with Adizua providing extra muscle they soon had the load hidden behind a tarpaulin in a ditch. Paddy threw a board on top and they covered the cache with clay. It took about an hour and at the end they were all sweating.

  “That will do ‘till we move it again, should fetch a good price down in Limerick,” Paddy said.

  “Phelan” he added, “this black man is your problem. I want him out of here we have enough attention on ourselves.”

  “I’ll send him off in the morning, it will only be a few hours. He’s paid his way so far with his help.”

  “O.K.” Paddy said, “just don’t bring more trouble down on our heads.”

  “I’ll check the horses,” Joe said, having sobered been up somewhat by the work.

  “Right” Paddy agreed and Joe wandered off into the darkness.

  “What’s’ with the horses?” Phelan asked.

  “Ah,” Paddy said with frustration in his voice. “Some of the kids let the horses stray into the golf course.”

  “For grass, good grass there,” Phelan said with a smile.

  Adizua listened but did not understand the conversation.

  “Yeah,” Paddy said, “but they walked across a green. Left nice big hoof prints in the nice green and in the bunkers. You know the golf club is big in this town. There are a few senior Garda that are members. They sent a squad car down and said we would be raided every day from now on if the horses ever came in sight or sound of the golf course again.”

  “Serious enough” Phelan agreed. “We can’t afford constant checks from the guards.”

  “We’ll move on shortly, we were due to move on anyway. The affair with the horses’ just means we have to go soonest. Jimmy Mac and his boy were scouting another site yesterday. I see their caravan is gone. They will be gone ahead to test the new halt. We will be joining them tomorrow. Don’t forget we have a lot of work to do up the field before we disappear from these parts.”

  “Grand,” Phelan said in agreement.

  “But in the meantime Joe is making sure the horses stay tethered.” Paddy added grimly.

  They went back to the caravans. Adizua was left standing at the van while Phelan went into a caravan. There were muted voices from the caravans then Phelan reappeared.

  “Here,” he said, sliding open the van door and indicating to the two blankets he had brought. “Adizua, you kip down in the back of the van until first light. We have to be up early as we are away to a new site tomorrow and there is a lot to do. I’ll see if I can get you into Naas later in the morning.”

  With that he was gone. Adizua got into the back of the van and bedded down. Soon he was warm but he was careful to keep the blankets away from his face, as they hardly felt fresh. He fell into a fitful sleep.

  He awoke with a start when the door of the van suddenly slid back. Daylight surged in almost blinding him. At the side entrance of the van he could make out children of a variety of ages including a couple of teenage girls. A few dogs milled around and all the eyes on him were agog with curiosity.

  “He’s as black as coal,” a young voice with a thick country accent remarked.

  “Wonder where they got him?” said another. And they all continued to stare.

  “I’m Megan,” one of the teenage girls said. “ Mammy said to bring you in for breakfast. We brought some water for you to wash. Don’t spill it in the van or Paddy will kill you.”

  Slowly Adizua peeled himself out of the blankets. As he stood up the kids fell back a little from the door and the dogs barked. One dog began to growl but was delivered a quick smack from one of the kids.

  Adizua took off his jacket and shirt and began to wash with the bucket of water. It reminded him of mornings at his sister’s house in Lagos, except that the water was bitterly cold.

  “Megan, Maureen, come away out of that and let the man have some decency,” a voice called from one of the caravans. The two teenage girls stopped staring at his black torso and blushed and with a grin at each other ran back to their respective caravans.

  “Come in when you’re ready,” the voice added.

  Adizua picked up the small towel the girls had provided and dried himself. He emptied the water into the ditch beside the caravan and dressed again. The cold made him shiver and the dampness felt as if it had invaded his bones. Rain began to fall lightly.

  He knocked on the caravan door and inside there was a scuffle. Then the door opened and a big woman stuck her head out.

  “I’m Molly,” she boomed in a tick accent, which Adizua had difficulty with, “My nephew Phelan, the scelp, he brought you home last night. I don’t know why, but if he brought you then you are welcome. Come in and have some breakfast. You’ll be the first black man ever to cross this door. I hope you bring good luck for we have enough of the other sort.”

  With that she stepped back in and with a “thank You” Adizua stepped in to the warmth.

  “Sit you at the window, over there where you can’t be seen from the road. Otherwise they’ll all be trying to get a look at you. Sit down. Megan, get him a cup of tea.”

  “Where is Phelan?” Adizua asked cautiously.

  “Ah, next door. His mother and his father had a fight while they were in the drink last night. They are not fit to feed you this morning. So Phelan asked me to give you breakfast.”

  “Thank You”

  Megan put a cup of tea in front of Adizua and sat beside him. The small children around the table moved up to make room without taking their eyes off Adizua for a moment. They were fascinated by the stranger.

  “My husband is Joe, I believe you met him last night.”

  “Yes” Adizua remembered the rough man, the older of the group.

  “He’s up the field moving his horses. He has a head on him. Ye must have been at the ci
der last night. He’s getting so his drink is ruining his humour. Still he has to get the horses out if we are to move today.”

  “Will ye ate boiled eggs?” she enquired, “for I have no idea what black people will eat.”

  “I love eggs.”

  “And some bread” Megan added on his right and passed him some slices she had been buttering.

  Phelan arrived and they had breakfast in the cosy warmth of the caravan.

  “I have some work to do to get us organized,” Phelan said “Me Da hit me Ma last night and she is a bit sore. They are ready to go now and Molly will follow on to the new site when Joe gets organized. Molly and Joe are the boss, Joe been the oldest. We are all related you see and we stick together through thick and thin.”

  “Can I help?” Adizua asked, although he wanted just to sit in the warmth for as long as possible before venturing out into the damp grey rain clouded sky.

  “We could use a bit of muscle” Phelan said, “but we will keep you out of sight as best we can, you don’t want a passer by to report you. Black Travellers are unusual.”

  “Travellers?”

  “We are called Travellers, or Knackers,” Megan explained.

  “What are you then?” Adizua asked.

  Molly laughed, ‘the bottom of the pile” she said bitterly.

  “We are the descendants of kings” Megan said proudly. “When the English disposed the Irish nobility five hundred years ago, they took to the roads and travelled from town to town. We still travel and we are proud of what we are.”

  “We don’t need anybody and nobody needs us,” Phelan said roughly.

  “Just like me” Adizua said and they all smiled.

  Chapter seven

  John was apprehensive. Samuel had told him they had a double date and he was wary of women. “Not worth the stress” he was inclined to say. However it was not every day of the week he got a chance of a free ticket to an International.

  Arm in arm, they marched up the road to their appointment outside the café with Sonia and her friend.

  “We are going with these two old codgers,” Sara said looking in askance at Sonia.

  “Old Gentlemen” Sonia corrected, “they won’t be trying to get a hand up your knickers.

  “I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Sara said with a chuckle.

  “My one is handsome, yours has got a limp.” Sonia added.

  As they approached John muttered to Samuel. “One of them is black”

  “That’s your one” Samuel said, amusement in his voice.

  “God she is beautiful,” John said, a little in awe, “And so is yours”

  Samuel made the introductions and Sonia introduced Sara as ‘her colleague.’

  Sara smiled at them and then turned to the side of the pavement and whistled. As if by magic a taxi pulled up.

  “Got the tickets?” Sonia asked and Samuel patted his breast pocket for the tenth time that day. Yes, he had the tickets.

  They were on their way. The girls had decided to treat the ‘gentlemen’ to a lunch in the Barclay Court hotel, which was adjacent to the Lansdowne Road Stadium where the match would be played.

  The Taxi pulled into the entrance of the Barclay Court. As it was match day there was heightened security on the gate, to control the crowds, and to ensure that the car park was not used by those attending the match.

  As the taxi halted, the doorman opened the door and the party went to the main entrance. Through the doors, they could see that there was a large crowd of pre- match revellers in the lobby. Samuel expressed a worry about John’s weak knee in such a crush and immediately Sara took him by the arm to steady his progress. Sonia linked with Samuel and led the way as the doorman ushered them in.

  It was with great pride that Samuel and John escorted the two ladies into the Barclay Court. The hotel was very up-market and had a huge lobby and a bar to the left. The lobby was wide with a buffet food counter at the far end.

  In the packed Lobby heads turned, Sonia and Sara were a class act, tall, stylishly dressed, beautiful with warm pleasant faces. Men wondered and women stared. Some remarked at how was it, that those two men had such attractive escorts. Others surmised that they must be two millionaires out with their mistresses.

  In fact John had almost decided not to come, as he had been worried about the cost of the day. However Samuel had reassured him, saying that the day was a treat from his son Peter. Samuel was careful not to embarrass his friend by showing obvious wealth and preferred to put it all down to his wealthy successful son.

  In the event the girls insisted that it was their treat as the men had supplied the tickets. After a review of the menu they conjured a waitress out of the crowd and ordered roast beef sandwiches and pints of stout for the men and open salmon sandwiches with a glass of white wine for themselves.

  They settled themselves at a corner of the bar.

  Some young men vacated seats at the bar for the ladies and then rounded up some more for Samuel and John. They hung about talking together over their pints and watching the beauty of the women but by and large they left the four to their lunch. The girls were quite used to being beautiful and were unfazed by the admiring glances they attracted from men and women alike.

  Samuel and John were delighted with the reaction they were getting and rose to the occasion. They soon had the girls in stitches with tales of Sunnyside Homes and the goings on, and banter about times past and the way things were in Ireland.

  Both Samuel and John had led full interesting lives and were confident in their enjoyment of life. The ease of the friendship between the to men matched that between the two girls and they settled into a relaxing conversation. It helped that they were early and had plenty of time to relax and have lunch before the short walk up to the Stadium.

  ******

  On the same side of the city some six miles out from centre of town a small group was gathered in Templeogue tennis club. The purpose of the meeting was to initiate celebrations. Kieran, one of the teachers at the Castle School was to be married and this was his stag night.

  The main event was to be in the International Bar off Grafton Street where a room had been hired for the occasion. However as the day also coincided with the International between Poland and Ireland, Kieran had invited a number of colleagues to watch the match on the wide screen in the Templeogue Tennis club. They would have a few pints, watch the match and then repair to the International Bar for the stag party.

  Brother McCormack had taken a lot of persuading. Christian Brothers did not leave the monastery in the school grounds to go around town at stag parties, but they over ruled his weak protestations.

  Between Frank and Kieran they had eventually persuaded him to seek leave of absence to joint them in Templeogue tennis club for the first part of the evening. As Brother McCormack was an avid sports fan he eventually weakened, attracted by the prospect of watching the match on a big screen amongst a crowd of supporters.

  Kieran had brought some chips up from the chipper next door to give them some fortification for the drinks to come and they served as a late lunch. The bar was crowded, between Kieran’s party and the members who had decided to watch the match at their club.

  Kieran had organized them a corner table and as they got in the first pints they settled down to wait for the match to begin. Conversation turned to School matters and the end of term examinations that they had just completed.

  Brother McCormack was dressed in black pants, black shirt and a white Arran sweater, which was beginning to be too warm for indoor wear, and he struggled out of it. For the occasion he was in civilian clothes. As Templeogue tennis club was some distance from the more deprived area where the Castle school was located, he was hopeful that he would not be recognized, and indeed as he was also a countryman it was unlikely he would be.

  Brother McCormack had insisted that they called him Aiden, his Christian name, for the duration of the outing. The others were sure they would need a few drinks under their belt
s before they could be familiar enough to call Brother McCormack, Aiden, so they avoided using any name in addressing him for the moment.

  Frank McGinley was seated between Brother McCormack and Kieran and the others spread in a half circle around the table, situated with a view to having a good sight of the TV screen when the match started.

  “Eoin McKeon has got in with Donore Harriers. “ Brother McCormack explained to Frank. “He will train with them throughout the summer and then he ships off to America on his scholarship. I think his parent will bring him out early and combine it with a family holiday. I hope, indeed I’m sure he will be a success.”

  Kieran listened to the conversation but the rest of the group were happy that Frank had drawn the seat beside Brother McCormack and the conversation fractured into smaller sub groups. This was aided by the general noise and hubbub in the smallish bar, which was rapidly filling up before the start of the match.

  “Then he is off to the States on a sports scholarship. Lucky sod” Kieran prompted.

  “Yes, a great success” Brother McCormack said a touch smugly. He was pleased, he felt that the credit for Eoin’s success was largely his, and he was correct in so far as he had mentored, trained and found recognition for a real talent.

  “His pal “il Penseroso” was a real transformation,” Kiernan prompted further, desperately trying to draw Brother McCormack into the conversation.

  “Robert” Brother McCormack corrected. He did not approve of teachers using the pupil’s nicknames.

  “No way he could have got to the States on a sports scholarship?” Kieran asked.

  “No” Brother McCormack said in a somewhat regretful tone. “Pity I did not see him earlier. He had talent, but it might have been a flash in the pan. If you wanted to get a sports scholarship you need a track record, a few wins over time, so that your curriculum vitae, your sports CV, looks good. In any event I don’t think the American scouts saw him run other than opposite Eoin McKeon and naturally they took the winner who was Eoin.”