10 - Wake Aonghus?

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Mid July, 199x

But when we get back to the house, Baz isn't there. We all traipse through to the garage at the back, now the band's practice space, filled with instruments and cases of sound equipment.

"Screw Jenna anyway," Mac snorts. "The whole point of moving down here was because we need to be together. Fuck's sake, Baz skiving off to Dublin the whole time is not going to work. How the hell are we supposed to rehearse?"

A tense twenty minutes pass, while Mac stomps around cursing, growling and kicking an over-sized case, but there's still no sign of Baz.

"Let the kid have a go," Len says. "He's up for it."

"Shit," Mac replies, slamming his fist against Len's drums. "Ok then. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Tully flushes. This is his chance to prove himself to Mac and the boys, but Mac clearly doesn't want him.

"Go on," Mac says, at last. "We haven't much choice, have we, thanks to that wanker, the stupid fuck." His voice rises again, and Len hits the drums. Mac laughs breaking the tension and Tully shoulders his guitar.

Felice and Spike want to stay to watch, though I wish with all my heart we could leave. Listening to Mac yell and glower every time Tully messes up a chord is excruciating. It makes Tully worse and I pretend not to notice him blush and fumble. Yet, as the rehearsal progresses, Tully starts to find his stride, or maybe Mac just lays off.

At the end, he comes over and claps Tully on the back. "Not bad for a rookie," he says. "You did well kid."

This time the glow that suffuses Tully's cheeks is one of pride.


The hot summer days take on a rhythm of their own, and before we know it July is almost over. At the weekends Black Death pack up their gear and travel the country, playing gigs all over Ireland, in Cork, Limerick and Belfast. As their fame spreads, the venues and the crowds get bigger.

Although we'd love to, we can't follow the band all over Ireland. Even Felice can't wangle that! Instead, we're out in hers for the weekend, lying in our spot, the hollow on top of the passage grave. It's the first time Tully's been up here with us, but I don't mind. 

He's more interesting now. Since he works the late shift in More Videos 4 U, he's free during the day and Mac has started calling on him at the last minute to fill in for Baz. Tully is getting to know the band, and their music, really well. 

"I can't believe nobody ever comes here." Tully stretches and surveys the view from the top of the mound, a patchwork of fields spreading out towards the river, shining glimpses of which appear through rush-studded banks as it snakes its way towards Drimshanra.

"They do, sometimes," Felice says, "but there's not much to see, since you can't go inside."

"Do you think the Office of Public Works will ever open it up?"

"I doubt it," Spike shrugs. "There's talk about it, every now and then, but nothing ever happens."

"Aonghus doesn't want to be disturbed," Felice says with a laugh.

A cloud passes over the sun, casting a shadow of darkness, and I shiver in spite of myself. Why does she joke about these things? The future is ahead, all around us, Black Death on the brink of fame, Spike on the cusp of leaving Drimshanra for university in Dublin. 

He's over the moon because the exam results are out and he got his first choice, English and History in Trinity College, Ireland's oldest university, a landmark building bang in the centre of the city. Everyone else has the whole world in front of them, while I'm doomed to Drimshanra.

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