Scrap CH THREE part 43

Scrap CH THREE part 43
Orla wakes at 3am to a commotion in the yard. She drags a jumper on over her pyjamas and goes to investigate. Danny has driven into the yard in a Transit van, clearly the worse for wear and fallen out the cab onto the concrete drive. His mother-in-law quiets the dogs and closes the gates, then on a sudden impulse she grabs hold of an iron bar and smacks it over Danny’s head. He is in a drunken stupor and doesn’t even feel it. She leaves him lying on the ground and goes into the kitchen.
Breathing rapidly and shaking uncontrollably she starts to sob, supporting her weight on the back of a chair, tears dripping onto the table. She cries for her dead husband, she cries for her darling daughter, she cries for the son she has all but lost to a scheming slip of a girl and she cries for the innocent little bairn asleep upstairs. But crying will not mend the hurt; she dries her face and sits for a moment to collect her thoughts. If Danny dies there will be hell to pay from his side of the family. If he lives he will continue to pay hell in her house. Rosa has warned her not to get involved but how can she not get involved when he has turned into a monster?
Against her better judgement she returns to the scene of the crime and bends over the drunken bully to find he is still breathing. She shakes him and calls out his name but there is no response and she again leaves the scene, deciding to wait until her daughter returns so they can handle him together. She goes back indoors and is concerned to see that it is getting on for 3.30am. Where has Rosa got to all this time? She said she was going for a Chinese with Jason and that Bettina girl. Maybe she has gone back to her brother’s place. She can’t phone him at this hour so she makes a cup of tea, adds a large measure of mountain dew and waits.
For Fat Frank all his Christmases have come at once. Convivial company, good food and drink and the love of his life ending up in his arms after all the yearning. She is sleeping now in his hot embrace but the electricity is still singing through his body and he feels he may die from happiness. He doesn’t want to miss a moment of this and lies awake looking at the waning moon which is gleaming through the bare window of his bedroom. He would hate to fall asleep and start snoring, or worse still farting. He wants Rosa to remember this night as the perfect night because she is perfect and he wants to have her for himself always.
He watches as the sky slowly lightens, bringing clouds and a drizzle of fine rain. Rosa stirs, struggles and turns her back on him, opens her eyes and realises she is not in her own bed and turns back. ‘Hello beautiful,’ whispers Frank, ‘did you have a nice sleep?’ She cuddles up to him and murmurs a reply, kisses his cheek and runs a hand over his furry chest. ‘What time is it?’ She asks, dreamily. The clock insists it is nearly 8am and the spell is broken. ‘I’d better get back, ma will be wondering where I’ve got to.’
Baby Jason is standing in his play pen shaking the rail, having been changed, fed and washed. Orla is ashen-faced after a night of worry and Danny is nowhere to be seen. ‘Where did the Transit come from?’ Asks Rosa as she breezes in to the kitchen, full of the joys of spring. She picks her son up and gives him a kiss; he struggles and squirms so she laughs and puts him down again. Then she notices the state her mother is in.
Orla tells her what happened; omitting the part where she hit Danny over the head with the iron bar, and says he dragged his carcass up to bed an hour ago, still under the influence. ‘I’ve got work to do in the yard anyway,’ says Rosa, pouring herself a mug of tea and putting two slices of bread in the toaster. ‘I’ll have this then get on with it. There are half a dozen cars waiting to be crushed and the lorry needs a wash. You look as if you could do with a kip.’
Orla knows better than to question her daughter and says she will go up and try to sleep for an hour. Rosa downs the tea, slaps butter on the toast and takes a bite, sets her son on her hip and takes the rest of the toast into the yard. Jason plays in the lorry cab while his mother washes it; sitting right on the edge of the driving seat so he can reach the huge steering wheel with his baby hands and make engine noises. She leaves him there as she puts away the hose and feeds the dogs. Rex gulps his food down in seconds and wants to play so she throws a battered tennis ball for him to fetch a few times. Jason lets out a howl as he slips from his perch and bangs his head on the way to the floor of the cab. Rosa scoops him up, kisses his forehead better and soothes him as she talks to the dogs. He stops bawling and begins to laugh as Rex lets him stroke his head. ‘Come on you lot, I’ve got work to do,’ she smiles as she fixes the tethers and turns her attention to the crane.
She sits the baby on her lap and places his hands on the controls as she manoeuvres the wrecks into the trough of the crusher, then they start the mechanism and watch as the powerful rams do their work, reducing the once proud beasts to blocks of metal, which are then picked up with the magnet and dropped into the 8 wheeler hopper. Jason holds his hands over his ears as the tortured vehicles screech and bang in their death throes. He loves being with his mother, helping with the work and takes an interest in everything she does. As he helps hose away the fluids which have leaked from the cars, Rosa feels a disturbing shiver run up her spine, imagining that a pool of red brake fluid is blood. For a chilling moment she sees herself locking her husband in one of the cars and putting him in the crusher. She is shocked by the notion, crosses herself and says a silent Hail Mary to assuage the guilty thought but she won’t mention it to Father O’Donnell when she goes to confession.