The Last Days of Rabbit Hayes (19 page)

‘I thought I was going to be punched,’ Rabbit said.

‘Good thing I was passing.’

‘They’re all mad.’

‘Well, I’m pretty irresistible.’

‘Don’t be a dick.’ She scrunched up her nose, then pushed up invisible spectacles. Johnny loved it when she did that: it reminded him of the little girl who used to follow him everywhere and hung on his every word until Alandra had come along and changed everything. Even though they had spent the summer touring together, Rabbit was no longer Johnny’s little shadow and he missed her.

‘What are you looking at?’ she asked.

‘You.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’ve grown up so much.’

‘Oh, don’t say that! You sound like me da. He had two drinks and started crying about it at Uncle Gem’s wedding anniversary. I was mortified.’

They walked up the stairs together, and halfway up, Johnny’s knees gave way – he flailed for the rail but fell hard like a sack of potatoes. Rabbit rushed to his aid but he didn’t want help. ‘I’m fine, I’m fine.’ He batted her away.

‘So stand up.’

‘What?’

‘You heard.’

He grabbed the rail and pulled himself up. ‘I’m just tired.’

‘You’re always tired.’

‘Well, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re very busy.’

‘There’s something wrong,’ she said.

‘There’s nothing wrong.’ He tried to walk away from her but his body refused to help him.

‘There’s something wrong, Johnny,’ she insisted, her eyes blazing.

‘You say that again and you’re outta here!’ he shouted.

She stood silently, watching him prepare to take his next step. He walked slowly up the stairs and she remained where she was, observing him. He wasn’t so much unsteady as unsure. She said no more, just waited until he was out of sight before she sat on the stairs and chewed her nails.

Ten minutes later Francie found her there. ‘What’s going on?’

‘You’re late for sound check.’

‘So why aren’t you there?’

‘I’m surplus to requirements now. Haven’t you heard?’

‘You might not be our engineer any more, but we still need ya, Rabbit. Come on, get off your arse and let’s go.’

Rabbit followed Francie onto the stage. Johnny was sitting on a speaker and directing Davey, Louis and Jay. He was displeased about the sound coming from the keyboard, and Davey kept making a mistake in the same part of the song.

‘Are you just trying to annoy me?’ he asked Davey.

‘Yeah, everything I do is about you,’ Davey said. He was frustrated with himself and Johnny wasn’t helping matters. Francie walked onto the stage.

‘Where were you?’

‘Sheila was having a meltdown.’

‘So bin the mentaller.’

‘Listen, man, I love ya, but if ya call me girlfriend a mentaller again I’ll punch you in the face.’ Francie put on his guitar.

‘Sheila is off her nut and you’re off your nut to be with her,’ Johnny said.

‘You’re crying out for a hiding.’ Francie took off his guitar.

‘Ah, clam down, Francie, will ya? We all know she’s fuckin’ nuts,’ Jay said.

‘Shut it, Jay,’ Francie snapped.

‘Or wha’?’

Davey stood up behind the drums. ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘Francie’s too busy running after a fucking loon to take care of band business,’ Johnny said. Johnny never cursed; he and Rabbit’s dad were two of the few people Rabbit knew who didn’t treat the word ‘fuck’ as a verb, noun and/or adjective. It was so strange and jarring to hear the word fall out of his mouth, even more alarming because of its aggressive delivery. Francie moved forward to hit him. Jay grabbed Francie by the arms. Francie swung around and punched his brother on the nose. Louis ran out from behind his keyboards with his arms outstretched.

‘All right, all right, enough of this.’

Jay tripped Louis, who fell on both his outstretched hands. ‘Oh, shite! Me finger.’

Jay stepped over him, then punched Francie back, catching him in the eye, and Francie reciprocated with a kick to his twin’s balls. Jay head-butted Francie. They fell to their knees at the same time, bloody-nosed and black-eyed.

‘What the fuck, Johnny?’ Davey said, pointing to the twins.

Johnny walked off the stage, leaving the boys and Rabbit to stare after him.

Davey helped the two boys to their feet. Rabbit gave Jay a tissue and he held it to his nose. Davey examined Francie’s eye. Louis lay on the floor, screaming blue murder about his finger.

‘Well, this is brilliant. You couldn’t let it lie, Francie,’ Davey said.

‘He shouldn’t have got involved,’ Francie retorted, pointing at Jay.

‘’Cause you decking Wet Boy would have worked out well? He’d be fucking dead,’ Jay said.

Francie nodded. Jay had a point: Johnny was a lover, not a fighter.

‘Rabbit, go down to the dressing room and find out what in the name of fucking fucksy is going on with him,’ Davey said.

‘He doesn’t want to hear from me.’

‘You’re the only one he’ll listen to,’ Jay said.

‘Not tonight.’

‘Just do it, Rabbit – seriously. Our lives are on the line here.’

‘Why don’t you do it, Davey? It’s your band.’ She was too frustrated to admit she was scared.

‘She has a point,’ Francie said.

‘So you do it,’ Davey told him.

‘If I go in there, I’ll lay the fucker out.’ Francie held his hands in the air. ‘I am what I am.’

Davey sighed. ‘Biggest night of our careers and I’m surrounded by arseholes.’

He walked off the stage, leaving Francie, Jay, Louis and Rabbit. Jay cleaned the blood from his nose and pocketed the stained tissue. Louis straightened his finger and walked behind his keyboard. ‘It might need splinting but if someone gets me a drink I think I’ll be OK.’

‘Wanna jam?’ Jay asked Francie.

‘Fuck it.’ Francie picked up his guitar. Rabbit made her way towards the dressing room and arrived in time to witness Davey being thrown out.

‘He’s lost it,’ Davey said. ‘He’s totally fucking lost it.’

He walked onto the stage, leaving Rabbit to stare at the door for a minute or two before she knocked. Johnny didn’t answer. She knocked again.

‘Go away.’

‘I’m really sorry,’ she said.

‘Please go away.’

‘Just talk to me.’

‘Can’t.’

‘Why not?’

Johnny opened the door. ‘Because I’m screwed.’

Rabbit walked inside and closed the door. ‘What’s happening, Johnny?’

‘I can’t seem to hold meself up, Rabbit. When I close me right eye, I can’t see a thing. The fans are wearing their laces open on their biker boots like me because they think it’s a fashion statement. It’s not. Me stupid feet are swollen to twice their size.’

‘So we’ll go to the doctor. Maybe it’s a virus. Me ma’s friend Pauline picked up a virus in Jersey and she lost some hair and was on her back for weeks.’

‘It’s not a virus.’

‘Are you a doctor?’

‘No.’

‘Well, then . . .’

‘I don’t think I can do this gig.’

‘Yes, you can.’

‘You don’t get it. I’m going to fall on me face.’

‘So sit down.’

‘It’s hardly rock and roll.’

‘It is if you’ve just been in a tour-bus crash.’

He cocked an eye. He was listening, so she went on: ‘Francie’s nose is smashed, Jay has a black eye, Louis’s finger is probably broken. We’ll splint your leg and one of the lads can do something to Davey. You say you crashed on the way here but you’re still going on because you love your fans and that’s how hardcore you are. We can sell it to the lads because they’re in bits anyway.’

‘That might work.’

‘It will work. You’ll get a magazine cover out of this.’

‘Rabbit, you’re my saviour.’

‘So we’ll go to the doctor tomorrow.’

‘You don’t have to come.’

‘I’m coming.’

Johnny apologized to the lads and convinced them that a bus crash was a good idea. Back in the dressing room, Davey needed extra convincing because Francie was flexing his fist, ready and waiting to give him an injury.

‘What if we say I travelled in a separate car?’ Davey pleaded.

‘Not rock and roll,’ Rabbit said.

‘Ah, come on.’

‘Don’t be a bleedin’ baby. I’ll just give you a tap,’ Francie said.

‘Your version of a tap is brain damage.’

‘It’ll be over before you know it,’ Johnny said.

‘How come you can fake it?’ Davey complained to Johnny, who was having his leg fake-splinted by Rabbit.

‘We can’t splint your arms because you couldn’t play and we can’t see your legs, so it has to be the face,’ Jay said, and Francie nodded.

‘Now, do you want to go down in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame or not?’ Francie asked.

‘I do,’ Davey said.

‘Nice one.’ Francie punched him in the mouth.

That night Kitchen Sink played to a packed house. Johnny sat in a chair with his splinted leg up, backed by his banged-up band. He sang his heart out to a grateful and fawning crowd. Afterwards he gave an exclusive about Kitchen Sink’s near-death experience to a rock journalist, and when he was so tired he needed Rabbit’s help to walk to the bar, Peter Moore, the record-company man, was waiting with a pint. ‘You just went up a gear tonight, guys,’ he said, and the lads smiled at one another.

‘Keep this up and our sister company in the UK will get on board. You are going to be huge.’ He raised his glass and the other lads raised theirs. Johnny looked at his, picked it up slowly and clinked it before putting it down. He didn’t take a sip. Johnny wasn’t a big drinker. ‘Remember this night,’ Peter said.

‘Oh, I will,’ Johnny replied. ‘It’s going to be hard to forget.’

WHEN RABBIT WOKE
up, she was surrounded by family. Her ma and da, Grace, Davey and Juliet, who was asleep, her head resting on her nan’s lap.

‘What time is it?’

‘Just after seven,’ Molly said.

‘I missed the whole day?’ Rabbit asked.

‘You must have needed the rest,’ Grace said.

‘Maybe I’ll ask for a vitamin.’ She tried to pull herself into a sitting position. Grace rushed to help.

‘I can do it,’ Rabbit argued.

‘Yeah, well, I can do it better,’ Grace said. She raised her sister and fixed her pillows behind her.

‘How long has Juliet been asleep?’ Rabbit asked.

‘I’m awake now.’ Juliet scratched her head and sat up slowly.

Rabbit grinned at her. ‘Hello there, Bunny.’

Juliet went to her mother and hugged her. ‘Hello yourself.’

Rabbit surveyed her. ‘You’re pale.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Have you eaten?’

‘Davey took me to Fiddlers.’

‘Oh, fancy.’

Juliet looked towards her uncle, seated by the window, and smiled at him. ‘Yeah, it was really nice.’

‘My pleasure,’ he said.

‘Are Stephen and Bernard still here?’ Juliet asked, and Grace said that they were.

‘Do you want to see them, Ma?’ Juliet asked.

‘Of course.’

‘OK, I’ll get them, but we can’t all stay here,’ Juliet said.

‘I could do with stretching my legs,’ Jack said, getting up. He picked up the beige bunny from the floor and handed it to his daughter, then kissed her forehead. ‘A rabbit for my Rabbit.’

She laughed. ‘I love it, Da.’

‘I love you.’ For a split second everything stopped in the room. ‘Right, come on, Juliet. Let’s put the boys out of their misery.’

When they’d left, Rabbit looked at her ma and then Grace. ‘What’s wrong with Juliet?’

‘Nothing,’ Davey said, and not because he felt Rabbit needed protecting from the news of her daughter’s menstruation, but because he couldn’t face talking about it.

‘Grace?’

‘She got her period today.’

Davey covered his face.

‘Oh,’ Rabbit said. ‘Is she OK?’

‘She’s fine. Davey sorted it.’

‘Davey?’

‘I gave her money. She went to the chemist. The end. Now can we move on?’

Grace laughed. ‘I really wish I could have been there to see his face.’

Rabbit was entertained by the idea of her easily embarrassed brother having to deal with a young girl’s period, but part of her felt like crying.

Molly piped up, ‘I got mine when I was riding a horse. I got off Duke and Ricky Horgan shouted that I’d jam on me arse. It wasn’t jam at all.’

Rabbit and Grace laughed. Davey went puce. ‘Jaysus, Ma.’

‘I was on a camping trip with the Girl Guides. I filled me knickers with dock leaves, said nothing and no one was any the wiser,’ Grace said.

‘There you go, Grace, a green sanitary-towel option. You could package that,’ Molly said, over Davey’s groans.

‘I’ve no story,’ Rabbit said.

‘Good,’ Davey said.

‘Everyone has a story,’ Grace said.

‘Shut up, Grace,’ Davey pleaded.

‘Shut up yerself.’

‘Ma, seriously, tell Grace to shut up.’

‘Are you twelve, Davey Hayes?’ Molly asked.

‘Go on, Rabbit,’ Grace said.

‘I was just on the loo, saw blood and called me ma.’

‘Right, that’s it, I’m going to the canteen,’ Davey said, and was gone.

Molly chuckled. ‘I remember, you were only ten. You screamed, “Ma, Ma, I think I’m dying . . .”’ Rabbit’s eyes instantly filled with tears and there was silence in the room. ‘I didn’t mean to say that,’ Molly stuttered. ‘I shouldn’t have said it.’

The room fell into total silence. The three women cast their eyes downwards and that was when Rabbit accepted the truth.

‘Ma,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘Ma, look at me. Ma, please, look at me.’

Molly took a deep breath, then met her younger daughter’s eyes.

‘I think I’m really dying, Ma.’

In a second, and despite two titanium hips, Molly was up and out of the sofa, holding Rabbit and wiping away her tears. ‘I know ya are, love. I know.’

‘I’m sorry, Ma,’ Rabbit said, and Grace gulped as hot fat tears rolled down her face.

‘
Noooo
, don’t be sorry, love. We love you so much.’ Molly stroked her head.

At that very moment Stephen and Bernard strolled in.

‘Hiya, Auntie Rabbit,’ Bernard said.

‘Fuck off!’ Grace shouted. The two lads assessed the situation and backed out without another word.

Rabbit cried in her mother’s arms for a few more minutes, then wiped her eyes and promised no more tears.