‘Looks like they’ve got a bit of a sing-song going,’ said Colin. Mary, Joe and some others had formed a circle round the tables in the centre of Clancy’s and had just launched into a rendition of ‘Danny Boy’.
‘I love this song!’ said Mary, singing at the top of her lungs. Soon nearly everyone in the pub had joined in. I hummed along during the breaks in our conversation. Tonight had been so much fun up until now, but it had just taken a turn for the worse. Sarah had arrived, and she and Nick were whispering away to each other beside us. She was wearing a denim mini-skirt and a pale pink tank top and looked annoyingly pretty. I kept glancing at them, even though watching Sarah groping Nick was torture. I hated being jealous. It was one of the worst feelings in the world. My stomach was all twisted and I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t want to feel like this, but I couldn’t help it. I tried to hear what they were saying.
‘Will I show you my dress tomorrow?’ said Sarah.
‘Yeah, OK.’
‘You don’t seem that interested.’
‘No, I am. I am,’ said Nick, taking a sip from his drink and looking around the crowded pub. Colin lowered my glass of Coke under the table and poured some vodka from his naggin into it. Joe had made an exception and allowed us to sit in the pub because of the night that it was, but there was no way he was going to allow us to order alcohol.
‘There’s a lot of competition this year,’ said Sarah.
‘I’m sure you’ll win,’ said Nick, disinterest evident in his voice.
‘Win what?’ asked Colin.
‘The Miss Avarna pageant,’ said Sarah, clearly expecting us to say something.
‘You know, the beauty contest they have at the fête,’ said Nick.
‘It’s so much more than a beauty contest!’ Sarah protested, shooting him an irritated glare. ‘They ask questions and -’
‘Is it time for the fête already?’ Colin interjected, trying to keep a straight face. Sarah still seemed to be waiting for someone to say how she was going to win.
I took a sip from my vodka and Coke, avoiding eye contact with Colin, who would have made me laugh.
‘Yes, it’s on next Sunday,’ said Nick.
‘Oh, right,’ said Colin. ‘Jacki, you should enter.’
I almost choked on my drink.
‘Closing date for entries was last week,’ said Sarah abruptly, flicking her black hair over her shoulder.
‘I don’t think it would really be my kind of thing anyway,’ I said. ‘I’d probably end up saying something really weird and embarrassing myself.’ I didn’t like the idea of people judging my personality – I did enough judging of it myself.
‘What will we sing next, Joe?’ shouted Mary. She was really into the sing-song. I bet Mum would have enjoyed it too, but in the end she’d gone home because she had to get up early to meet the kitchen suppliers.
I texted to let her know we were enjoying a sing-song and that I’d be home in a while.
Joe thought for a moment, then launched into -
‘I’ll tell me Ma when I go home the boys won’t leave the girls alone…’
Colin leaned over to me. ‘You’d beat Sarah anyway,’ he whispered. I doubted that very much, but I appreciated Colin’s remark nonetheless.
‘What do you get? If you win?’ I asked Sarah.
‘A trophy. And a spread in the paper. And the honour of being Miss Avarna, of course.’
Colin was trying so hard not to laugh. He elbowed my side and I kicked his shoe in retaliation, hoping Sarah wouldn’t notice.
‘What do you have to do?’ I asked, stifling a giggle.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘there are three judges, and they ask you a few questions about yourself, and then a few random ones, about politics and human rights and all that stuff. Then there’s a talent section.’
‘Like in the Rose of Tralee? When they do a dance or read a poem or something?’
‘Yes. Exactly.’
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Colin.
‘Sing a song.’
‘Oh, very good. Which one?’
‘“When Irish Eyes Are Smiling”. They like when you pick a traditional one. My cousin Ailish was apparently winning last year until she did some sort of rap and it totally went over the judges’ heads. My sister won it before. She’s been giving me pointers.’
‘Can we talk about something other than the beauty contest?’ said Nick.
‘Nick, it’s so much more than a beauty contest,’ said Colin dramatically, although Sarah was completely oblivious to his sarcasm. Sometimes I considered the advantages of being that self-absorbed.
The crowd got louder as everyone joined in the chorus.
‘ She is handsome, she is pretty,
She is the belle of Belfast city.
She is a-courtin’ one, two, three,
Please won’t you tell me, who is she?’
The atmosphere in the pub was brilliant. The drinking and the singing and the chatting continued beyond closing time. I didn’t want to leave. I was having the most fun I’d had in ages. Just being around Nick gave me a little shiver of excitement. I should have felt bad thinking this way when his girlfriend was sitting less than a metre away, but she was being so irritating that I found my guilt fading.
‘I’m going to get some crisps,’ I said. I’d been so excited at the prospect of being on Nick’s table quiz team that I hadn’t been able to eat much earlier.
‘Oh, will you get me some too?’ Colin asked.
‘Sure,’ I said, and made my way over to the bar.
‘Some of those questions were impossible, Joe,’ said Mary. Joe was standing behind the bar with his wife, Rita.
‘What year did Phil Lynott die?’ said Rita, flicking through Joe’s quiz sheets. ‘I should know that.’
‘1986,’ I said involuntarily. Thin Lizzy trivia was one of my specialities.
‘That was the year I got married,’ said Mary. ‘And the year Beth Cullen was murdered.’
Murdered? This was too weird. Not only did I keep coming across her name, but she’d been murdered. The combination of the two was unsettling.
‘Is it that long ago?’ said Rita, collecting empty glasses from the counter.
‘Yes,’ said Joe. ‘Twenty-five years. Hard to believe, isn’t it? God rest her soul.’ He blessed himself and turned to me. ‘What can I get for you, Jacki?’
‘Er… J-just two packets of crisps, please, Joe,’ I stammered, and handed over some change. I made my way back to our table and I noticed there was a stool next to Colin.
‘Who was Beth Cullen?’ I asked him as we opened our crisps.
‘Jim and Lily Cullen’s daughter. She was best friends with Lydia too, actually. She was murdered in 1986 around Christmastime and her body was found a week later in the forest.’
‘Oh my God…’ I said as a chill crept up my back. ‘How old was she?’
‘She was twenty-two. They had a huge search party out looking for her from the very night she went missing. Her parents found her bike dumped up by the church, and they knew straight away that something was wrong.’
‘But it took a week to find her?’
‘That forest is more than four hundred hectares. They found her not far from your house actually.’
I shivered at the thought of a dead body being discovered near my house, even if it had been twenty-five years ago. ‘Thanks, Colin,’ I said. ‘Did you really need to tell me that? I’m having nightmares as it is!’
‘Don’t worry. All this happened before either of us was born, remember. But I’ve heard lots about it because my mam and dad were part of the search party. Lydia couldn’t face it though. She was in shock because Beth was her best friend and she was afraid of finding her. She said she knew she was already dead. From the day she went missing she knew something terrible had happened.’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know… just an instinct, I guess.’
I didn’t feel like eating my crisps. I just didn’t feel hungry any more. Suddenly, in my head was a vision of Beth Cullen’s body, preserved by the cold December air, hair tangled across her face, hiding her features, her skin as pale as porcelain, her eyes still open, staring straight ahead, frozen in fear.
I couldn’t believe I’d just conjured up an image like that in my head. It wasn’t like anything I’d seen on TV or in movies. I didn’t even know what she looked like, but it was horribly detailed. Horribly real. I had an unsettling sick feeling in my stomach.
‘Who murdered her?’ I asked, pushing my crisps aside.
‘No one knows,’ said Colin. ‘They never caught the psycho.’
‘But they must have had some suspects or at least -’
‘Here, one of these young ones will give us a song!’ shouted Mary, pointing over at our table.
‘No, you’re all right, Mam,’ said Nick.
‘Ah, go on! Don’t be shy,’ said Joe.
‘Sarah, go on and give us a song there,’ said Colin. ‘It’ll be good practice for your pageant.’
‘OK then,’ she said, sitting up straight and fixing her hair. She started to sing softly.
‘When Irish eyes are smiling…’
‘God help Nick if she doesn’t win this Miss Avarna thing,’ whispered Colin. ‘She’ll be crying for a fortnight.’
I didn’t like to admit it but Sarah’s voice was very sweet and she seemed to be extremely well prepared – and she was pretty.
There was a round of applause. Sarah smiled.
‘Well done!’ said Nick.
‘Jacki,’ said Lydia. ‘Your mam told me you’re a great singer. Will you sing something for us?’
‘Yeah, go on, Jacki!’ said Mary.
‘Oh, all right… OK,’ I said. I loved singing. I glanced over at Nick. He was still congratulating Sarah.
‘What are you going to sing?’ said Colin.
I thought about it for a moment, then the perfect song came into my head.
‘I think I’ll do “She Moved Through the Fair”.’
‘Oh, I really like that song,’ said Colin.
People were often surprised when they heard me sing. I guess my voice was quite different to how I looked. I closed my eyes and began.
‘ My young love said to me, my mother won’t mind
And my father won’t slight you for your lack of kind…’
I could feel Nick looking at me as I sang. Thankfully I was used to performing and it didn’t make me too nervous.
‘I dreamed it last night that my young love came in…'
When I finished there was a moment of silence and then lots of loud applause.
‘Whoa, you’ve got some voice there,’ said Joe.
‘Thanks,’ I replied, a little embarrassed because everyone in the pub was staring at me.
‘That was brilliant,’ said Colin.
‘It really was,’ agreed Nick.
‘Thanks.’
‘Your voice is so distinctive,’ said Lydia. ‘So effortless.’
I tried not to blush.
‘I’ve heard that song so many times before,’ said Colin. ‘But I never really listened to the words until now. You’re a great singer.’
Then looking at Sarah, he added, ‘Oh… you were great too, Sarah.’
She looked at him blankly.
‘Seriously though,’ said Colin, turning to me. ‘I’m your new number one fan. Can I design your album cover when you’re famous?’
‘Ha, sure,’ I promised.
‘Simon just texted me,’ said Nick. ‘Himself and the lads are having a few cans up in the forest. Will we head up to them?’
‘All right,’ said Colin. ‘You’ll come too, won’t you, Jacki?’
‘Where?’ I asked.
‘The forest. There’s a clearing up behind the mines, just past your house. We hang out there sometimes.’
‘Yeah, sure, I’ll come.’ I couldn’t help thinking back to Beth Cullen. Not that it mattered – I was hardly going to be wandering around there in the dark on my own. Anyway, there was nothing to be afraid of.
Nick’s phone buzzed again. He stared at the screen for a few moments, a look of confusion on his face. Then he turned to Sarah.
‘Babe, what’s this?’ he asked, showing her the phone.
She took a few seconds to answer, and suddenly looked very flustered.
‘Em… I… I can explain; it’s not what -’ She put her hand on his arm.
‘Is it a joke?’ he said, looking at the screen again.
‘Listen, Nick, I was wasted… I didn’t -’
‘So you’re not even denying it?’ he said, pushing her hand away. ‘I don’t believe this.’ Then he stuffed his phone in his pocket and hurried towards the door.
‘Nick, wait!’ shouted Sarah, running after him.
‘What was that all about?’ I said.
‘Dunno,’ said Colin. ‘They’re always fighting. Come on, let’s go to the forest. They’ll catch up.’