Read Online The Butcher Boy by Patrick McCabe - Free Book Online Page B

again. Then what did Philip do only try to push me out of the hall. Ow, Philip I said, you're getting your fingers in my eyes. I could hear his heart beating from where I was. He stuck the sole of his shoe against my shoulder. Ow I said get your big boots off me, that hurt me Philip! Then ha ha again. You're too rough I'm not playing with you! I'm only joking. Mrs Nugent kept saying Philip Philip I don't know if she knew what she was trying to say. Which would you say is the best Philip I said. Denis Law or Tommy Taylor? Philip was down on his hunkers trying to shoulder me out the door and he was as red as a beetroot huffing and puffing away there. His pencil fell on the ground. I never saw such pushing and shoving. Philip would push one way then I'd push the other. Then it'd all start again. Mrs Nugent didn't do anything, all she did was stand there fiddling with the pegs in her apron pocket and I could see that Philip was on the verge of saying will you help me ma for God's sake but he had such good manners he didn't and what happened then whatever way he turned didn't he knock the wedding photo off the wall and crack down on the floor it with bits of glass all over the hall. Now look at what you did, she said, blaming Philip whatever she was blaming him for. Sure he couldn't help it if I was snorting around the place. Then he didn't know what he was at he starts to pick it up and she shrieks mind the glass mind the glass you'll cut yourself no I won't he says you will she says and then Philip starts getting all excited standing there with a handful of broken bits of glass. I gave a snort. That's pig language for watch yourself with the glass there Philip I said. Philip's forehead was wet with sweat and his eyes were more sad than frightened now.
     
    I think it was him looking at me with them sad eyes that made me get up and say that was a good laugh but I think its about time I was back at the farmyard what do you say Mrs Nugent? But she said nothing only stood there twisting a clothes peg and saying please stop this please! Right you be now Mrs Nooge I said and hopskipped down the lane, I'll call back another day I said and I did.
     
    And the reason I did that was because when I got to thinking about it back in the house I thought what am I worrying about Philip Nugent's sad eyes for? I had probably imagined it, he might even have been putting it on. The more I thought about it the more I said yes that's right he was just putting it on. Philip Nugent, I said to myself, you are a crafty devil, the way they say it in the comics. That old Philip Nugent, the trickster! So a couple of days later, back I went except this time I made sure they weren't in. I waited until I saw the car heading off down the lane I knew they were going to visit Buttsy up the mountains.
     
    In I went through the back window hello Francie welcome to Nugents! Oh hello there nobody I said.
    Dant-a dan! Welcome to Nugents Mr Francie Brady! Thank you I said, thank you very much. It gives me great pleasure to be here standing on these black and white tiles in the scullery, Mrs Nugent. Oh no not at all Francis we're delighted to have you. Now you must meet everyone. This is my husband and this is my son Philip but of course you know him. Except that really there'd be no fear of Mrs Nugent saying any of that she'd be on the phone to the sergeant straight away but oh no she wouldn't for she was up the mountains drinking tin mugs of tea with carrot-head Buttsy the brother in a cottage that stank of turf-smoke and horsedung. But Nugents didn't smell like that. Oh no. It smelt of freshly baked scones, that's what it smelt of. Scones just taken out of the oven that very minute. I went on the hunt for them but I could find them nowhere. I think it was just the smell of old baking days that had stuck to the place and she hadn't been making scones at all. No matter. Sniff sniff. Polish too there was plenty of that. Mrs Nugent polished everything till you could see