Christmas in Dublin was magic.
A black sky, dancing with a million stars. A hazy, gentle
rain glided gracefully to ground, raindrops sliding down
decorated shop windows. Colourful lights sparkled all around;
the crowds shuffling past each other in their festive bubbles
chatting on mobiles, hauling bags of all sizes behind them.
I drifted past them, their lives brushing through mine for
a few seconds before being forgotten. That's all; lives
simply drifting through each other for a time, some longer
than others, eventually all forgotten.
It's hard to be alone at Christmas, which is why I was walking
towards O'Brien's. Who needed family fights and undercooked
turkey when you could have a cider and a cigarette in peace?
Tomorrow I would miss him and cry, I'd curse him, call my
mum, she'd invite me home for Christmas, everything would
be fine. But now, I needed to be numb, and drunk.
It was almost eleven; by now his stuff would be packed and
in the back of a taxi destined northwards to who ever she
was. She would be from the northside, she'd have that background.
As I sat before my cider, lighting a cigarette, I pictured
her.
Blonde, they're always blonde, dyed, blonde all the same;
short, big bust. She'd wear too much makeup, not enough
clothes, her eyes would be blue, or green, or some futile
shade in between. She'd live in the flats, work behind the
counter in a petrol station and claim to be waiting for
some skinhead who was serving time.
I felt bad, I didn't know the girl, I couldn't blame her
for Lee being so male after all. She'd learn.
I nursed six and half ciders before one of them called me
by name.
"Cora Maguire" it said in a familiar voice, "Is
that you?"
I looked at the steamed glass, it didn't look like the kind
of pint who spoke to you, I looked to my cigarette in puzzlement
and decided it was not the owner of the voice either.
"Jesus girl you haven't changed" I turned and
dropped the cigarette out of shock, relieved that the pint
glass still stood on the bar, half empty, or half full,
I hadn't decided yet.
"Danny boy!" I cried, throwing my arms around
him.
"It's been too long" he smiled, still with the
boyish good looks and the charming glint in his big blue
eyes. "How are you?"
"Ah…" I paused.
"Who was he?" Danny asked with sympathy.
"Not worth talking about" I muttered, "And
yourself, still sleeping your way across the continent?"
"I'm doing my best! There's not enough of me to go
round"
"Well all I want is your shoulder to cry on" I
sighed.
Danny Griffith was just one of those boys you loved to hate
and hated to love, but it was very hard not to.
We had been friends since school; he was a joker, a rogue.
He was ridiculously handsome, and spent too much time on
his hair.
He used and abused women, spent all his money on drink,
and gave out to me for smoking. He hadn't changed.
"You're still on the fags?" he tutted as I replaced
the one he had so rudely stunned from my hand just before.
When we turned fourteen, Danny suddenly became irresistible
to every young female in our town. I noticed the change
in him, a new arrogance, confidence, playboy attitude. It
didn't matter, he was still Danny. He still carried me home
after a night out by the canal drinking cheap cider and
played cards with me down the back of Spanish class.
I remembered a day when he was too hung over to come to
school. I was suffering myself but my mother had thrown
me out the door with a painkiller.
I sat through classes alone, the other girls hesitating
to talk to me, eventually Lisa Carlin did.
"Where's your other half?" she asked sitting down
beside me.
"Hung over" I replied, "Like myself"
She said nothing for a moment.
"What's the story between you two anyway?" she
asked. "Don't you mind him going with other girls?"
I looked at her blankly, "Not particularly, considering
I'm not going with him"
"Yeah" she shrugged, "But he's tried it on"
I shook my head.
"Never?" her head popped off her shoulders. "Are
you serious? Danny Griffith's never tried it on with you,
ever?"
I shook my head.
"You must be the only girl in our class he hasn't gone
with"
I looked around the class; they were all shadows of Danny's
past; I had heard all about their sexual sagas.
"Me and Danny are just friends"
"Danny isn't just friends with girls" Lisa laughed.
"You know the way he talks about girls, we're objects,
we're not people"
"You know that?" I asked in surprise, Lisa flirted
round Danny at every chance. "Then why do you fall
at his feet?"
Lisa smiled to herself.
"Because it's Danny, just look at him!"
I did. I looked at him like never before. I saw the charisma,
charm, luring smile, sparkling eyes, appeal. It struck me,
not once in the years since our hormones and primal urges
had kicked in had Danny once looked at me like that, or
had he done so, he had seen nothing of interest.
I suddenly resented him. I found him repulsive. I grew to
hate him with an energy that scared me.
As I sat opposite him now, listening to how easy Dutch women
were, I suddenly saw how beautiful he was, and I remembered
the kiss.
We had finished our exams, everyone went crazy. Danny and
I got hammered.
We stumbled home at closing time, still in our uniforms,
singing 'Bohemian Rhapsody" and doing the monkey walk.
"Cora" he slurred. "I love you" and
he kissed me gently on the forehead.
"I love you too Danny" I replied, awaiting the
inevitable kiss on the lips, his hand on my hip, the heavy
breathing, the drunken fumbling, the quick goodnight, the
forgotten name. I saw it happen every weekend.
I prayed he wouldn't kiss me again, that he would walk me
home and leave it at that, for the sake of everything he
meant to me, I didn't want to be just another shadow of
Danny Griffith's past.
He did kiss me again.
He kissed me on the hand with such tenderness that I felt
my soul melt.
"Goodnight sweetheart."
He walked away, he didn't look back.
He was a gentleman.
And I loved him.
"You know Cora" Danny muttered as he took my cigarette
from between my teeth and stubbed it out, "They'll
kill you one day"
"Yeah, and I'll kill you if you waste another of my
cigarettes! Anyway, we're all going to die, I'm not special"
"You can't die" he smiled, his eyes sparkling.
"I'd miss you too much"
"You'd would! I retorted, taking another cigarette.
"I would! You know I love you"
"You do!" I retorted again, bringing the flame
to the tip.
"I do, always have" he muttered becoming reserved.
He smiled and I fell.
"I love you too"
He leaned across and kissed me on the forehead, his hand
on my neck.
He hesitated and leaned in further.
Our friendship flashed before me. I remembered every shadow
of his past, those forgotten, nameless, pretty faces.
I gave him a peck on the lips.
"You're drinks running low Danny boy" I said,
grabbing the barman's attention.
Danny looked at me with a satisfied smirk.
"Why darling, I do believe your right" he said
with charm, "And it's your round, yeh stingy lout!"
Danny Griffith was just one of those boys you loved to hate
and hated to love, but it was very hard not to.
