–Would we?

–Fuck him so.

Joey The Lips went into the house to answer the phone.

Dean arrived while Joey The Lips was gone. He’d had his hair cropped.

–Jaysis, Dean, wha’.

He was wearing his shades.

–Dean, your shirt’s gorgeous.

–Thanks.

Joey The Lips came back.

–Brother James on the telephone, Brothers. He can’t make it. He has a mother of an examination.—Tomorrow.

Joey The Lips had just seen Dean.

–Is the wattage of the bulb too strong for you, Dean?

Outspan and Derek laughed.

–It’s the flowers on his shirt he’s protectin’ his eyes from, said Deco.

–Leave him alone. It’s lovely.

Jimmy clapped his hands.

–Let’s get goin’.—Come on. We’ll keep it short.

–Yeah, said Bernie.—Rehearsals are borin’.

–We need some fresh tunes, said Joey The Lips.

He patted Bernie’s shoulder.

–Let’s break Mickah in first, said Jimmy.

–That’s Washin’ton D.C. durin’ office hours, said Mickah.

He was behind the drum. There was only the one.

–Can we call yeh Washah for short? said Outspan.

–Yeh can, said Mickah,—but you’ll get a hidin’ for yourself.

–Washin’ton D.C., said Derek.—That’s a deadly name, Mickah.

Mickah smacked the drum.

–Nothin’ to it.

He smacked it again.

–That’s fuckin’ grand.—Child’s play.

–Try it with both sticks.

He did.

–There.—How was tha’?

–Grand.

–Can we go home now? said Mickah.

Mickah was a good addition. The Commitments liked him and his enthusiasm came at the right time. They enjoyed his mistakes and his questions. They rehearsed again on Monday night. They wanted Mickah ready for Wednesday.

Mickah took the drum home with him. His da, the only harder man than Mickah in Barrytown, burned the sticks. His ma bought him a new set.

The Commitments were a revitalized outfit on the third Wednesday of the residency. They all arrived on time. The Commitmentettes had new tights, with little black butterflies behind the ankles. Mickah wore Jimmy’s suit. James had a bottle of Mister Sheen. He polished the piano.

–More elbow grease there, said Outspan.

Jimmy took in the money at the door, one hundred and forty-six pounds. That meant thirteen more people than the week before. And that didn’t include Hot Press and the three others with him he’d let in for nothing.

The Commitments played well.

Outspan and Derek had become very confident. The Commitmentettes were brilliant. They looked great, very glossy, and their sense of humour showed in their stage movements.

They were enjoying themselves.

Mickah tapped and thumped happily on the drum, sometimes using his fingers or his fist, once his forehead. His shoulders jumped as he drummed, way up over his ears.

One thing spoiled Jimmy’s enjoyment: Dean’s solo in Stop in the Name of Love. The Commitmentettes were at their best. They raised their right hands every time they sang STOP. Then they’d spin quickly before they continued with IN THE NAME OF LOVE. Mickah kept his eyes on them and his timing and their timing were perfect.

Dean’s solo was good. It was really good, but it was new. It wasn’t the one he’d always done.

Joey The Lips explained what was wrong with it later.

–Soul solos have corners. They fit into the thump-thump-thump-thump. The solo is part of the song. Are you with me?

–No.

–Strictly speaking, Brother, soul solos aren’t really solos at all.

–Ah, Jaysis, Joey—

–Shhh—There are no gaps in soul. If it doesn’t fit it isn’t used. Soul is community. As Little Richard says, If It Don’t Fit Don’t Force It. Do you understand now?

–Sort of.

–Dean’s solo didn’t have comers. It didn’t fit. It spiralled. It wasn’t part of the song.—It wasn’t part of anything. It was a real solo. Washington D.C.’s drumming wasn’t there as far as it was concerned.

–That’s jazz, Brother. That’s what jazz does. It makes the man selfish. He doesn’t give a fuck about his Brothers. That’s what jazz is doing to Dean, said Joey The Lips.—Poor Dean.

The Commitments finished with It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World. Mickah stood back. James gave the beat out here.

–DOOM—DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH—DOOM—DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH—

Deco sang:—THIS IS A MAN—AN’S WORLD—

The Commitmentettes shook their heads.—DOOM—DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH—

DOOM—DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH—

–THIS IS A MA—AN’S WORLD—

The girls shook their heads again. Some men in the audience cheered.

–BUT IT WOULDN’T BE NOTHIN’—

NOTHIN’—

WITHOU’—

A WOMAN OR A GURL—

The Commitmentettes nodded. They turned to look at Deco. He was facing them.

–YEH KNOW—

MAN MADE THE CAR—

THA’ TAKES US ONTO THE RO—OAD—

MAN MADE THE TRAY—AY—YAIN—

TO CARRY THE HEAVY LOAD—

–DOOM—DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH—

DOOM—DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH—

The Commitmentettes turned their backs on Deco. He pleaded with them.

–MAN MADE THE ’LECTRIC LIGH’—

The girls looked over their shoulders at him.

–TO TAKE US OU’ O’ THE DA—HARK—

MAN MADE THE BOAT FOR THE WAT—HAH—

LIKE NOAH MADE THE AH—ARK—

Outspan plucked the guitar like a harp.—COS IT’S A MAN’S—

MAN’S—

MAN’S WORLD—

BUT IT WOULDN’T BE NOTHIN’—

NOTHIN’—

WITHOU’ A WOMAN OR A GURREL—

The girls swayed and nodded. Mickah swayed and nodded.

–YEH SEE—

Deco was still singing to the girls.

–MAN DRIVES THE BUSES—

TO BRING US ROUN’ AN’ ABOU—OU’—

AN’ MAN WORKS IN GUINNESSES—

TO GIVE US THE PINTS O’ STOU—OUT—

The crowd began to clap here. Deco raised his hands, and the clapping stopped.—AN’ MAN—

MAN HAS ALL THE IMPORTANT JOBS—

LIKE HE COLLECTS ALL THE TAXES—

BUT WOMAN—

WOMAN ONLY WORKS UP IN CADBURY’S—

PUTTIN’ CHOCOLATES INTO BOXES—

SO—SO—SO—

IT’S A MAN’S—MAN’S WORLD—BUT IT WOULD BE NOTHIN’—NOTHIN’—

FUCK ALL—

WITHOU’ A WOMAN OR A GURREL—

This time they wouldn’t stop cheering and clapping, so It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World was over.

The Commitments were clearing the stage after closing time.

Derek spoke.—Tha’ Man’s World is a rapid song, isn’t it?

–Fuckin’ brilliant.

Deco took the bottle from his mouth.

–Yeah, he said.—I’m thinkin’ o’ doin’ it on Screen Test.—Tha’ or When a Man Loves a Woman.

They’re me best.

Outspan dropped everything.

–There’s no way we’re goin’ on Screen Test. No fuckin’ way.

–Yeah, said Derek.

–I know tha’, said Deco.—Yis didn’t hear me.

He took a mouthful from the bottle.

–Did I not tell yis?—I thought I did.—No, I’m goin’ on Screen Test. On me own, like. I got me ma to write in for me.

Derek roared.—JIMMY! COME EAAR!

Then he stared at Deco.

Jimmy was just outside on the path, thanking Hot Press for coming. He heard the roar.

–Good fuck! I’d better get in.—Migh’ see yeh again next week so?

–Right, yeah.

–An’ see if yeh can bring your man along, righ’. I’ll buy him a pint.

–Will do.

Jimmy trotted in. He had good news.

He forgot it when he saw the story; The Commitments standing away from one another, Deco in the middle.

–Wha’ now?

–Tell him, said Derek.

Deco told Jimmy.

–Yeh bad shite, yeh, said Jimmy.

–Wha’!

–Are yeh serious?

–Yeah.—I am.

–What is this Screen Test? Joey The Lips asked.

Outspan told him.

–It’s a poxy programme on RTE. A talent show like.

–It’s fuckin’ terrible, Joey, said Derek.

–Sounds uncool, said Joey The Lips.

–Why didn’t yeh tell us? Jimmy asked Deco.

–I did tell yis.

No one backed him up.

–I remember tellin’ some o’ yis.—I told you, James.

–No.

–I must’ve.—I meant to.