Page 12 of Calling Frank O'Hare

Finn’s face broke into an embarrassed grin. ‘Yep.’

Frank looked out of the window at the vast mountains and his mind drifted back to four young eejits who once thought they were the only gang worth being in.

9

Teenage Kicks – 1978

Ma stood in front of the kitchen door, refusing to let him pass. ‘Francis O’Hare, if I find out you’re up to no good, I will personally make sure your father deals with you.’

‘I’ve done nothing.’ Frank held out his palms and did his best to look innocent of all charges, even though he wasn’t sure what the charges were. Probably because Ma didn’t know either. She just had this uncanny way of recognising when he was about to commit an offence.

‘That may be so, but you’ve no good in mind. I can tell. You’re looking awful shifty. Tell me where you’re going, or you’ll be going nowhere.’

‘Only to Billy’s. His ma’s away. I’m just keeping him company.’

Frank’s ma squinted at him. She didn’t believe him, but Frank knew he was on safe ground because she wouldn’t ask more details about Billy Mac’s family arrangements. They were too loose for her liking, too close to potential indecency, and she, as a decent woman would not be drawn into discussion on them. ‘Well you make sure you keep away from trouble.’

‘I thought I’d stay at Billy’s tonight.’ He threw it in, casual like, in the hope he might get away with it.

Ma folded her arms. ‘You will not. You’ve school in the morning and you’re in the middle of your exams. You’re lucky I let you out at all. I want you home by nine. And you can take Martin with you.’

Frank threw his arms in the air. ‘You’ve got to be joking?’ How come he was always lumbered with that clown? Billy would do his nut.

There was a loud cough from the living room and Da said: ‘Take Martin, or you’ll be going nowhere.’

Martin was in the kitchen before Frank could protest any further, although he knew protestations were a waste of breath. His brother had that butter wouldn’t melt look on his face that Frank could never pull off. ‘Can Finn come?’

‘Good idea. Less chance of you getting into trouble if you’ve two youngers to look after.’ Ma stepped away from the door to let them through. ‘Nine o’clock, Francis. Do you hear?’

Frank gritted his teeth. ‘Yes.’

‘And if Billy’s on his own, he can stay here tonight.’

‘Youse two are not coming, so get that right out of your heads.’ Frank stormed up Billy Mac’s street, mad as hell. Martin, the sneaky bastard, had done it again. Every time he tried to do something on his own, Martin sneaked his way in. And if that wasn’t bad enough, now he had an extra liability. Wee Cousin Finn. ‘You are definitely not coming,’ he said again, in case they hadn’t heard him the first time.

Finn ran at his side. ‘Where are we not coming to, Frank?’

Frank walked even faster. ‘It doesn’t matter because you’re not coming.’

‘We’re going to the Battle of the Bands,’ shouted Martin, full of himself because ever since he’d found out Frank’s little secret, he’d been trying to get in on it.

Frank stopped and swivelled round. ‘Will you shut your big mouth? Do you want us to get killed? ’Cos if Ma finds out, we are dead.’

‘You will be. Not us. Because we’re not going. Apparently. I suppose I could go back right now and tell her. Then you won’t be going either and she’ll still kill you.’

Frank didn’t bother answering. He knew that no matter who went and who didn’t, he’d be in for it. If Martin told on him, he’d get walloped for trying to go, and for thinking it was okay to take Martin and Finn with him, even though he didn’t think it was okay to take them with him. If he let them come and by some miracle they got in, he’d get walloped for missing the nine o’clock curfew and leading Finn and Martin astray. Whatever happened, he couldn’t win but at least if he got to see a concert, a real live concert, it would be worth it.

They reached Billy’s street and dodged the kids playing games. One of them was Billy’s wee brother. He fired an imaginary shot at them with his stick gun. Martin pretended to catch it in the guts and stumbled along the pavement.

Frank rolled his eyes. They were way too old for those kind of games now, they had other interests. At least, Frank and Billy did. The only interest Finn and Martin had was following Frank around like he was some kind of fucking messiah.

The fellas hanging around on the corner gave them the once over as they passed. Frank nodded at a couple of them he knew from school. He was used to being watched when he visited Billy, so it was no big deal. It was the mixed marriage thing that made Billy’s family so interesting. Two religions in one household, not that either of his parents ever went to church. Since Billy’s Protestant da had walked out on them, his ma had made a special effort to stick to her own side. You’d have thought that would have made her less interesting, but not so. Maybe it was the kind of people she chose to stick to. Billy didn’t help matters either. He was the only boy in their Catholic school with a Protestant name, and the only one to openly state that all religion was a pile of shite. It gave him an edge and was a recipe for distrust. Having Billy for a friend was the only edgy thing about Frank.

Billy opened his front door and gave Martin and Finn a cursory glance. ‘What the fuck have you brought them for?’

‘The parents made me. Martin’ll tell if we don’t let them come.’

Billy looked up at Martin. He was sixteen, the same age as Frank, but he was smaller than Martin and only a bit taller than Finn. ‘You wouldn’t do that, would yer Marty?’

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