Page 126 of To Hell With It
‘Oh my God.’
‘Do you remember?’
‘I don’t know, I don’t think so.’
I tried to visualise Mr O’Callaghan’s penis in Maggie O’Ryan’s mouth, but all I could see was Niall’s. I thought about what Niall was telling me. I thought about Mr O’Callaghan, about all the times I’d seen his penis in my head, all the times I’d seen it in my mouth, all the other penises, Maggie Ryan (bloody Maggie Ryan!), the cupboard, my fear of small spaces, of dying. Mr O’Callaghan filming it all.
‘The video camera,’ I said. ‘It was stolen from the shop remember! That prisoner who broke in? The one who hacked the government? He might have watched it? Do high-end criminals blackmail village shop owners? Aren’t you worried who else might have seen it?’ My questions spilled out of my mouth in horror and shock and disbelief at what Niall was telling me.
Niall shook his head.
‘No one has seen it.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because no one stole it.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked confused.
‘There was no break-in,’ Niall said. ‘It was all me.’
‘What?’ I said dumbfounded.
‘I couldn’t stand the thought of my mum finding it or of him watching it back. I was so angry, I smashed the house up and they thought we’d been broken into.’
‘Oh my God,’ I gasped. ‘What did you do with the camera?’
‘I threw it into the river. But I’ve not been able to get it out of my head ever since. That’s why when he died, I didn’t feel sad, I felt relieved.’
‘Wow.’ I was flabbergasted. ‘So there was no break-in? No escaped convict?’
‘Not that broke into the shop, no,’ Niall said. ‘But it was great timing.’ He laughed inappropriately.
‘So, did you take all of that alcohol? Oh my God, did you drink it? You were only eight...’
‘No. I threw it away. I knew it would piss my dad off because he liked his spirits.’
‘Wow,’ I said again, still in a state of shock and, quite frankly, disbelief. ‘Did he know you … we, saw him?’
Niall shook his head again.
‘Did you make me count to ten and tell me to shut my eyes?’
‘Yes. And you started to cry because you were scared and wanted to come out, but I wouldn’t let you. I held the door shut. I didn’t want you to see it. It’s why you had that flashback in the glowworm cave.’
‘Jesus, Niall,’ I gasped as my brain caught up with his words. ‘You’ve known about this the entire time? It’s been years, you could have told me, why the hell didn’t you tell me?’
My head felt heavy with the weight of what he was saying as my own memories galloped to the front of my mind in one go. I desperately tried to think back to when my OCD started – could it have been when I was eight? Could Mr O’Callaghan and Maggie Ryan be the reason I had OCD?
I don’t know! I don’t bloody know! I can’t remember. I can’t remember if it was that or something else, or if it was just in me, like Mairéad said it was – a part of my brain that was just wired differently. Or was it trauma? There was always that possibility. Could Mr O’Callaghan’s penis have traumatised me? Was that, and being locked in a cupboard and not being able to get out, the reason for my crazy behaviour the last nineteen years?
‘I wanted to tell you,’ Niall interrupted my thoughts. ‘I wanted to, lots of times, but you seemed so vulnerable. You started doing weird stuff. Like after school, you started counting your steps from off the bus to the shop. You knew it all – how many steps there were, how many trees there were down the New Line until your house, how many potholes. And then the checking, the woodlice, the sanitising, the praying, your bathroom window…’
My mouth was open, but I couldn’t speak.
‘And I couldn’t say anything while my dad was still alive.’ Niall continued. ‘I didn’t know how you’d react, who you’d tell. If you’d told your parents, they would have confronted my dad and it would have broken my mum all over again. I had to protect her.’
‘What do you mean,all over again?’
