Dark Night of the Soul

Chapter 6

Friday.

A revolution is not a dinner party, or writing an essay, or painting a picture, or doing embroidery; it cannot be so refined, so leisurely and gentle, so temperate, kind, courteous, restrained and magnanimous. A revolution is an insurrection, an act of violence by which one class overthrows another.

'Seamus, how the hell are you?!' exclaims Dave Joyce as he spies Seamus shuffling through the door. He leaps up from his chair and pumps Seamus's fist in an aggressive handshake. 'I didn't realise you'd be here.'

'Yeah, same to you,' mumbles Seamus, trying to avoid looking Dave in the eye. It had been a long journey for Seamus from the Kerry coast to here. Wherever 'here' was. All he could tell was that it was somewhere in England. Somewhere nondescript. Suburban. Somewhere he'd never been before. The previous night he had been taken to a small cottage on the hill just outside of town where he could stay during the task he was about to perform. Today a car brought him down to a bridge by the river. 'Under that arch, there's a door. Go through the door,' the driver had said, seconds before it sped away. Now inside an echoing windowless stone-walled room, he drops himself into a chair on the opposite side from Dave. 'So, do you know what's happening, Dave?'

'We're getting paid, Shem. That's what's happening!' roars Dave, slouching in his chair with his legs wide apart. 'Power stance' he had read in one of his magazines, 'makes you feel in control'. 'Fake it to make it,' or something like that. He shoots a leering grin at Seamus.

'Well, yes, obviously, but what are we doing? And don't call me Shem. You know I hate it.' Seamus nearly hadn't got into the car yesterday when it picked him up from his home. He remembered the money that was owed to him but he was happy without it. Maybe he'd even be happier never having it, he thought. But it was a lot of money for just a few days' work. He could always give it to charity. 'If I'd have known he was going to be here too I'd definitely have stayed in Ireland,' he ruminates to himself and turns to look at the door. Something to look at instead of Dave's gold teeth and paunch.

As he does so, Anna bursts into the room, ruddy-cheeked. She looks up and sees Dave and Seamus. 'Oh, Christ, it's you two. Erm, good to see you.' Anna teeters in her high heels and attempts to flatten her hair. She scans the room. 'No drinks? I need one after that journey!'

Dave grunts and pulls a battered flask from the pocket of his baggy leather coat. 'Here, have a swig of this if you like.'

'Just like the old days,' giggles Anna. She sighs as she turns to face Seamus. 'It's been a long time but you haven't changed a bit.'

'Same to you, Anna. I was hoping that you'd be here too,' replies Seamus, the hint of a smile on his lips as he gets up to greet Anna with an awkward hug. He tries to hide the hole at the elbow of his cardigan. Anna leans forward to kiss his cheek but Seamus has already turned round to sit down. Shortly after the shock of seeing Dave, Seamus had found himself hoping that he would see Anna again. Seamus and Anna both turn to Dave, struggling for something to say, finally opting for silence.

'So, what have you been up to, Anna? 13 years, eh, but it just feels like yesterday seeing you again. You're looking... well.'

'Oh, thanks. I've been... busy. On and off. I did a play at the Donmar Warehouse a while back. You might have seen the reviews? It was.. four, maybe five years ago now. Other than that, I still have my darling cats, of course. Not the same ones though...' She blushes, her hand involuntarily touching her cheek. 'You should come round to see my pride and joy, Seamus. My garden. I don't live far from here. It's only small, but so beautiful this time of year.'

'Yes I'd like that. This task, whatever it is, should all be done in a week, then it would be nice to relax a while before heading home.'

'Where is home for you? Back in Dublin?'