The RINGS board was occupied by other people, so both groups had chosen to sit back down with their respective elders while the final game of Bingo unfolded. Marco had excused himself to take Coco Pops out while the rest of the gang sat close to the parents. Maureen Malarkey had only been mildly successful on this night by comparison to others. But the final game had promised a much bigger purse. The object of the final game was to get a full house of numbers to claim the prize. The game was now reaching a crescendo with a handful of people waiting with bated breath for one last number.
"2 fat ladies…. 88! No winners?" Father Peter's eyes scanned the room carefully, with no answer. But the tension was high.
"Alright then…. Another ball, thank you Sister Michael…. Ah, it's 2 wee ducks…. 22…..22!" He announced, holding the ball high. Still no answer. Both Joe McCool and Maureen Malarkey side glanced each other from opposite sides of the room. Both shuffled with nerves and anticipation, both were on one last number.
"Who do ya reckon'll get it first?" Tony asked Gerry.
"Depends on what yer talking about…. Over whom gets their last number first, or who has a stroke first." Gerry answered.
"I think Father Peter might be on drugs, Mary!" Sarah said. "He keeps saying that he's seeing all these different things from wee ducks to fat ladies…. but I haven't seen any of them. Sort of reminds me of the time when we felt slightly off when we had those scones after Aunt Bridie's wake." She admitted.
"Shut up, Sarah." Mary hissed. She could see Joe's hand was shaking with adrenaline, as was hers.
"Pick and mix! …. 26!... 26! Pick n mix?!"
"Ohhhhhhhh!" Suddenly came a cry. The room was suddenly abuzz with shock and disappointed groans.
"Oh! Do we have a winner over here?!" Father Peter cried with excitement.
"No, Sorry Father!" Clare informed him, Pulling a confused Orla to sit back down. The Bingo players breathed out an exasperated breath over the false alarm.
"Alright…. Let's settle down. False Alarm." Father Peter continued.
"Christ! Will SOMEONE fecking win this thing already!" Sister Michael growled under her breath, aggressively taking out another bingo ball.
"Ok…. Next number…..Oh…. Uuuuuuh….." Father Peter appeared hesitant. "I'm not…. Quite sure about this….. Uh, Sister Michael, what number would you say this is?" He asked.
"I don't care." Sister Michael groaned with despair.
Father Peter turned back to the audience. "Well…. It appears we have a slight dilemma. There's no marking on this ball, and we've not had either pulled out yet….. so, it's hard to say whether it's a…. 6 or a 9?" He proclaimed, holding the ball up.
"BINGO!"
Both Joe and Maureen jumped out of their seats.
Both sides exploded with celebration, but amidst the huddled hullabaloo, Joe and Maureen suddenly noticed that the other was also celebrating.
"Oi Oi Oi! Stall the fecking ball here! That's a six ya cheating wee bitch!" Joe shouted. Flashing his bingo paper.
"Uh, Mr McCool….."
"Catch yourself on ya beady eyed prick! It's a 9!" Maureen shouted back, they marched towards each other, standing off on the dance floor.
"6…9…6…9…6….9!" The two went back and forth.
"Why don't they just put the numbers together and make 69." Michelle quipped.
"NOT the time, Michelle!" Erin stressed.
During the standoff. Insults and jibes were thrown back and forth like arrows by Joe McCool and Maureen Malarkey. Sister Michael finally perked up and seemed intrigued as she shifted her eyes left and right at the verbal tennis match.
"Make sure she hasn't changed the numbers with that magic pen of hers!" Joe fired.
"Ach, that excuse is as old as yourself, McCool!" Maureen fired back.
"Just calm yourself, Da." Mary pleaded.
"I take it back. I reckon they'll both have a stroke." Gerry said, Mary shot a cold glare.
Father Peter quickly intervened between the warring pair, the microphone still in his hands. He took both Joe and Maureen's papers to double check.
"Alright….. This might be a first…. we have a dead heat here. But we can't determine what this ball number is….. So, in the interest of fairness, we're going to need to use the judgment of Solomon here lads. Which is to split the winnings. So, we have two winners of Mega Bingo. With a prize of £100 each….. Big round of applause for Mr McCool and Mrs Malarkey." He declared. The crowd redundantly applauded while Father Peter divided the purse while Joe and Maureen continued to glare daggers at each other. Maureen snarled as she snatched the money from Father Peter.
"Hey, happy days. Aye Uncle Joe? Come on now. Let's go get ya a drink." Declan stepped in.
"Well, Gerry's buying, that tight arse prick hasn't reached into his pocket all night!" Joe sniped. Tony chuckled as Gerry sighed heavily as normal service had resumed.
Maureen returned miserably to her table. Dominic couldn't help but look longingly across the dance floor while Henry and Mona quickly intercepted their Aunt.
"Ach, don't worry Aunt Maureen. I tell ya what, if ya give us the money, I promise we'll triple it." Mona beamed. The news made Maureen perk up somewhat. The prospect of coming away with a bigger purse than Joe was certainly intriguing, but she felt the need to question the means.
"Exactly how do you mean to do that? Lord knows I'm in and out of that fecking confession box more times than a gas meter reader." She confessed.
"Ach, not to worry, Aunt Maureen. You're conscience will be clear. Trust us." Henry smiled.
"That's exactly what I mean. Alright, but I swear, if ya lose this money, I'll be subbing the wooden spoon for a fecking shovel! And they'll never find your bodies! Am I clear on that?!" Maureen gave them all a purposeful glare. The trio felt the familiar shudder of fear run up their spines. They nodded with petrified eyes. Maureen gathered her things and took her leave.
"She fecking means it too." Dominic's voice shook.
"Shut up Dom!" Henry snapped, gripping the money in his hand.
"Aye, ye just focus on beating that English prick over there!" Mona growled, her voice almost a whisper. "Not just beat him, humiliate the dopey dose!"
"Why?, ya didn't have to goad the fella so much about his mam. And ya didn't have to say those things about Michelle either. And another thing…." Dominic went to go on.
"Awwww. Does Dom have a wee crush on the Mallon bitch?" Mona teased, interrupting him. "Well, ya can forget about her, Dom. She wouldn't look twice at yer anyway. Ya lanky prick." She snapped.
"Well, why did ya have to talk so much shite about me being a RINGS champion? I mean, I'm good, lads. But it's not Andre Fecking Agassi!" Dominic confessed.
"That's for sure." Mona scoffed.
"I told ya before, Dom. It's psycho-macology or something. If ya tell people you're class at something enough times, they'll believe it. Trust me. He's already shiteing the tights. Christ! How many times have I told ya to just trust to take care of things?" Henry exclaimed.
Henry oozed with confidence, while Dominic shook his head despondently. Dominic then looked over again in the direction where Michelle was sitting. He blushed as she adjusted her top. Mona smacked his arm hard.
"Dominic! I told ya! Stop staring at her! The girl likely thinks you're some sort of creep so just forget about it!" Mona snapped again.
"Aye, she's a slag, anyway!" Henry agreed, causing Dominic to frown.
"Ach, So you tried it on, but she told yer to fuck off?" Mona shot.
"Don't get smart!" Henry fired back. "Just remember what we need to do. We need to show up that English prick in front of everyone in here!" Mona snarled.
"Again, why him? Why them? Why is it so important?" Dominic asked.
"Who gives a shite?! We're getting paid, aren't we?" Mona snapped.
"Aye! We just need to do what they asked. We made that wee phone call to the lezzer's partner, aye? Then we wound Mallon up easy enough, aye? Now all we need to do is just humiliate the English prick….. and win at RINGS. And from the way she was speaking, I reckon we're in for a bonus, if ye catch my drift, Dom." Henry had a lustful glint in his eyes as he spoke.
"You don't honestly think she's gonna let you ride her just cos you did this for her? Catch yourself on!" Dominic shrugged.
"OI! I can tell she was panting for it! Always wondered what it'd like with an older woman. She sounds a proper ride, so she does." Henry huffed.
"Christ, excuse me if I don't boke! But no doubt, she'd be an upgrade from that Mallon bitch over there!" Mona caught Dominic looking over at Michelle again.
"For fuck's sake, Dom! Stop looking at her and come on!" Mona grabbed him and pulled him away towards the RINGS board.
With the bingo now finished. Mary cut up the apple cake and shared it out. The light, fluffy texture was a pleasant distraction for them. James had wanted to ask Joe or Gerry about playing RINGS, but with the auld McCool still protesting about Maureen Malarkey, somehow, the wains ended up being saddled with Uncle Colm. Sister Michael reprieved them only temporarily as she walked up to them. The group looked up desperately towards her for solace, only to receive a snide comment.
"Well, I won't deprive you of hearing what your Uncle Colm has to say. I'll be at the bar, so for the love of God, don't bother me."
"What if it's a really big emergency Sister?" Erin asked.
"My orders still stand, Miss Quinn. Ladies. Mr McCool." Sister Michael walked off towards the bar with Father Peter following. The wains all shot dishevelled looks as they were stuck listening to Uncle Colm drivel on about 'Rings'. Unaltered in his pace.
"Now as I was saying… I remember saying to meself says I, Colm….. you best not go too extravagant with these rings, for people may think you're punching above your social standing. Although, while gold rings look fine and dandy, so they do, silver rings would be more appropriate for the bathroom colour scheme….."
"What the fuck is he going on about?" Michelle whispered.
"So, what kind of rings did you go for, Uncle Colm?" Orla asked, being the only one interested.
"Orla!" Erin grimaced.
"Well, after much deliberation, I had to go for the more practical option of durability over extravagance, for I remember thinking to meself, I thought… Colm, if ever your shower mat was to lose it's durable grip, and you were forced to grab onto the shower curtain to break your fall…."
"Heaven forbid." Michelle huffed under her breath.
"It would be an extremely embarrassing situation if anyone were to find you laid spark out in the bath, in the nip, and with dysfunctional shower rings being the cause."
"Oh Ayyyyyye." Orla nodded in agreement.
"Listen! Uncle Colm! I really don't mean to interrupt this enthralling story…." Erin exasperated.
"Ach, Erin! I was listening to this." Orla moaned.
"Shut up, Orla!"
"We were actually asking about was the GAME of Rings, Colm!" Clare exclaimed, almost screaming.
"Clare, calm yourself." Geraldine called over, causing Clare to shrivel with embarrassment.
The recognition finally hit Uncle Colm. "Ohhhhh, I see now…. Come to think of it, it did cross my mind why you wains were asking me so diligently about Shower Curtain Rings." Colm pondered.
"Why did keep talking then?" Clare whispered in vain.
"Well, since you ask, I do happen to have a very interesting story about an auld friend of mine who was a ringer at Rings, if you will." Uncle Colm started off again.
"That'd be the day." Michelle scoffed.
"Now if I recall correctly, it was one October night, where the weather was surprisingly clement for that time of year. And I remember thinking to meself, I thought…. Colm, now might be a grand time to make your way down to the pub for a swift one."
"Swift? Would he even know what that word means?" Erin quipped to herself.
"And into the pub I strolled, and who should I see but William Wallace himself." He stated.
"William…. Wallace?" James repeated.
"WHOA! You mean that Braveheart fella used to drink in your pub, Uncle Colm?" Orla asked with astonishment.
"Somehow, I seriously doubt it was Mel Gibson in the pub, Orla!" Clare huffed.
"If only." Michelle's eyes began to drift.
"Well, ya say that now….. But William Wallace, although he was a Derry man by birth….. William….. DID come from Scottish descendance from an auld friend of his father's….. Now, like I said, William was an absolute ringer at Rings. Them wee Rings, they would float like Halos towards that board. Now, by the time that I arrived, Wiliiam was up 4 games to 2 against the other fella, whose name I cannot recall…..
"Was it Oliver Cromwell?" Orla asked out of the blue. Snapping Michelle out of her illicit dream.
"Orla, catch yourself on!" Michelle groaned.
"But in a strange turn of events, the other fella. Who, as I said I cannot recall his name, began to mount a comeback. And William began to lose the absolute run of himself. Absolutely banjaxed, so he was. And no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't focus enough to get those thon rings to stay. Before he knew it, the unnamed opponent was tying games with William, by this time, the game had attracted quite the wee crowd, and lord behold…. William ended up losing the game 4 to 6. To which he sighted a devilish influence that caused him to lose."
"Do ya reckon he slagged off the devil too?" Orla asked, Clare abruptly shushed her.
"But sure enough, there indeed was a devilish influence that was playing havoc on William's mental stability. The devilish influence, was a local young girl who was drinking in the pub, who went by the name of Siobhan McGuilicuty, who, I believe was the same age as our Mary and Sarah. She was also known around the town to be a wee bit promiscuous. On this particular night, she was dressed quite provocatively, in a very…." Colm coughed to clear his throat. "Very short black dress. William mentioned that every time he went to throw, she would almost be tantalising him by showing him all kinds of….." The group noticed Colm had paused.
"You alright there, Colm?" James noticed that Uncle Colm appeared to be quite flustered. Colm struggled to carry on
"That McGuilicuty girl had legs….. that could distract….. the most….. subdued of men. But it wasn't until she slowly uncrossed her leg….. and to flash a hint of….. uuuuhhhh, anyway…. William said to meself, said he, he found himself almost climaxing to the peak of insanity. William even tried to say it was done deliberately, for he heard whispers that the McGuilicuty girl had been placing a wee wager amongst some of the other punters. But no one believed it, and it was never proven…. For she quickly left the scene after that." Colm concluded.
"So…. How does that help me play a game of RINGS, Colm?" James asked.
"…Well, I'm not really sure lad. I'm afraid I can't help ya there. I've never was a keen player of RINGS myself. Anyway, night wains. I'm off now." Colm said. He got up and left them sitting bewildered.
Michelle couldn't help but splutter out a giggle. "What are you laughing about?" Clare asked.
"Jesus! That girl did a basic instinct in the middle of a pub!" Michelle sniggered.
"A what?" Clare asked.
"Basic Instinct. It's a film with Sharon Stone where she flashes her bits at that ride from Romancing the Stone." Michelle said.
"Does she?" Clare seemed intrigued.
"Cracker film! So it is." Orla claimed. Michelle agreed.
"Yeah, must admit. It is a good film." James also agreed.
"Yeah, and we all know why you watched it. Filthy English Prick!" Michelle shot.
"Stall the ball here! How have you seen that film, Orla? It's an 18!... You've not been watching it with Marco or something, have ye now?" Erin stressed.
"A few times. Aye." Orla admitted.
Orla looked up nonchalantly and spotted the shocked expressions on everyone's faces. "What?" She asked.
"Orla. You have not started watching aul filth, have ye now?!" Erin exclaimed.
"What are ye on about, Erin? Romancing The Stone's not filthy, I mean, nothing compared to Basic Instinct." Orla answered.
"Jesus Christ! So ye HAVE seen it!" Michelle shouted out cackling loudly.
"Will you wains keep it down over there!" Mary called. Luckily, she hadn't heard the extent of their conversation. "We're gonna be making a move soon enough wains." Mary informed them.
As the parents spoke amongst themselves. The wains' attention was then drawn to the mouthy Henry and Mona who were cheering loudly while Dominic practised. Clare saw the nerves on James' face, and the anger beginning to build inside Michelle like a volcano ready to erupt. Now the task was at hand, the pressure began to build.
"Look, is there any chance we can just kindly withdraw from the whole thing? I mean, it's not like we formally agreed to take part in this." Clare suggested.
"What? No fucking way Clare! We don't back down from anything! Especially from those mouths!" Michelle stated.
"Yeah!" Orla growled, clenching her fist with an aggressive scowl.
"Well, sorry if I sound slightly pessimistic but you're the one that got us wrapped up in this Michelle!" Clare fired.
"Aye, you've said so yourself that James can't throw for shit! Why would ya put him such a situation?" Erin argued.
"Thanks, Erin." James scoffed dejectedly.
"Oh, so everything's my fault, is it now? Is it my fault your girlfriend no showed? It is my fault this prick of a cousin of mine is beyond useless?" Michelle fired off.
"Again, Thanks!" James scoffed.
"Don't get shirty with me, James!" Michelle fired back.
"Well, I'm sorry, Michelle…. But I'm feeling a bit nervous right now, given that I'm about to go play a game I've never played before and lose 200 quid of my best friend's money. So, forgive me if I'm not in the most positive fucking mood right now!" He said.
"Well, that's hardly a winning attitude. Is it now, James?" Erin stated.
"Pessimistic prick!" Michelle scoffed, although admitting in her head, he had a point.
"James does have a point, Michelle. I mean, they've obviously singled us out for that very reason. How else would they know about Marco's…. windfall?" Clare brought her voice down to a whisper. "By the way, where is he now?" She asked, looking around.
"He went to take Coco Pops for a walk." James said.
"That prick better not have done a runner. Or else, I'll fucking kill 'im. Orla, go find him for us!" Orla jumped up at Michelle's orders and went to go look for Marco.
"OI! MAGUIRE! GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE!" Henry shouted from across the room.
"Come on. Let's get this shit over with!" Michelle downed the rest of her drink and slammed the glass down.
"Everything alright, James love?" Cathy asked as James got up from his seat.
"…. Yeah. All good mum." James smiled as he walked off with the girls.
They sauntered towards the RINGS board where the Malarkey trio were waiting for them. A scattering of locals were loitering nearby playing Pool. Clare continuously crossed herself as she followed Michelle. Erin walked beside James and gave his hand a squeeze. He turned to see her flash a nervous smile at him.
"Ohhhh here he is. English Prick here's about to get his arse handed to him, and hand over 200 quid, lads!" Henry proclaimed loudly.
"Awwww, looks like ya wee aye tye pal's done a runner, Maguire. Looks like ya gonna have to go ask your Mammy to bail you outta this one." Mona cackled.
Erin felt repulsed as a shiver shot up her spine at the pint-sized Mona's remark. James then glanced back over at the table towards his mum, who was now chatting happily with Sarah. With an empathic strum on his heartstrings, he went to take the five rings to start playing.
Sister Michael sipped her scotch as she watched the first game get started. The object of the game was simple. Both started at a score of 121. The first to get down to Zero won. As expected. James struggled immensely. Dominic quickly made short work of the first game. Henry and Mona loudly protested whenever James only managed to half hook the ring on the odd occasion, citing it was the rules that the ring had to sit flush on the hook. The girls groaned as the second game didn't go any better. They then spotted Orla standing at the bar while Marco was chatting to the barman. The pair then made her way over to join them.
"Where have you two been? Snogging each other silly round the back, I imagine?" Clare complained.
"Likely went looking for the nearest cash machine." Michelle complained.
"Michelle, what are ye like?" Erin complained.
"No. Had to walk Coco Pops, and….. just had to make a phone call. How's he doing?" Marco asked, changing the subject.
"He's 2-0 down already." Erin answered sadly, not taking her eyes off James.
"But he's actually doing better in this game." Clare tried to stay positive.
"Wise up Clare! He's going down quicker than a hooker with a score." Michelle downplayed.
"Honestly, Michelle!" Erin wrenched.
The third game had been closer. James felt the emotion swell in his chest as he edged closer to the zero. He had landed more high scoring rings, but understandably, he still struggled to keep up. Dominic's ability to land more rings served him well, but the lad couldn't help but feel the same anxiety sweel inside him too. It wasn't unusual for Dominic to feel somewhat tense when he had his opponent hot on his heels. But Mona and Henry breathing hard down his neck added to his own predicament.
"Noooo!" Henry and Mona groaned loudly as Dominic then made a vital miss on the number 8 hook, which prevented him securing his third win. James let out a anxious breath as he stepped up again. He needed to score 19 to win his first game. But he grimaced as he failed to score, missing 3 attempts with only 2 hooks left.
"James, wait!" Orla cried and darted over to her friend.
"What is it, Orla?" James stopped.
"I've just noticed something." She beamed with excitement.
"Oi! Get back to ya seat, ya daft wee …." Henry bellowed. But was stopped abruptly.
"Daft wee WHAT!?" Marco stood in front of him and burned a hole through him with a cold stare, his eyes wild. Henry's face went white.
"Yeah, Malarkey! We dare ya to finish that sentence! Go ahead! Poke the bear!" Michelle growled, poking Marco's chest. Henry made a hasty retreat. James turned back to listen to Orla.
"James. Hold the ring like this and give it a wee bit more lift. It'll land square!" Orla said excitedly, showing him her way to grip the ring.
"You sure, Orla?" James asked her. Orla nodded with enthusiasm.
"Huh, no way is he seriously gonna listen to this wee dick!" Mona cackled. Clare grabbed Erin before she made a move for Mona.
"I'd listen to her, James. Orla knows how to shoot." Marco called.
Orla blushed as James agreed with what Marco said. He gripped the ring as Orla suggested and launched the ring at the board, landing the 6. Sighting the number 13. James steadied himself…. And threw. The group exploded as the ring landed on the number 13 hook. Orla jumped onto James's back, cheering with him.
"I told ya it'd work!" Orla cried happily.
"No No No!" Henry waved his arms. "Look! It's not landing flush again!" He laughed arrogantly. "Christ! But you English have crappy aim!" He taunted James. "No wonder your lot can't take down the IRA!"
"I move to make a judgement call." Sister Michael suddenly said. She sauntered past them over to the RINGS board. She inspected the half hanging ring.
"The… ring has to sit flush on the hook for the score to count, Sister. Those are the rules." Henry insisted.
"Indeed." The Nun agreed.
"Why don't ya go ask ya Mammy how to hook, Maguire! She had plenty of practice hooking fellas in her time!" Mona fired arrogantly.
"There's no need for that, Miss Malarkey." Sister Michael snapped.
"Sorry, Sister. It just slipped out." She said with a sarcastic tone.
Sister Michael feigned a yawn; her hand then knocked the ring flush onto the hook. "Oops, oh sorry. My arm slipped. Well, it looks like it counts after all." Sister Michael mirrored Mona's sarcastic tone. Mona's jaw dropped while the gangs cheered.
"How about from now on. I officiate this game?" Sister Michael suggested.
"What? No! You're just gonna side with them!" Henry shot.
"Henry. Will ya shut up?!" Dominic fired. Finally becoming too frustrated with his brother. "That's fine by me Sister." Dominic grimaced.
"Very well. Game 4 on." Sister Michael took a spot behind the players.