R O D D Y D O Y L EN O T J U S T F O R C H R I S T M A S

Roddy Doyle is the author of The Commitments(1987), The Snapper (1990), TheVan, shortlisted forthe Booker Prize in 1991, Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha,winner of the Booker Prize in 1993, and TheWomanWho Walked into Doors (1996). His latest novel isA Star Called Henry (1999). He co-wrote thescreenplay for The Commitments, and wrote thescreenplays for The Snapper and The Van, and thetelevision series Family. He has also written twoplays, Brownbread (1987) and War (1989).

Open Door

NOT JUST FOR CHRISTMASFirst published by GemmaMedia in 2009.

GemmaMedia230 Commercial StreetBoston MA 02109 USA617 938 9833www.gemmamedia.com

Copyright © 1999, 2009 Roddy Doyle.

This edition of Not Just for Christmas is published by arrangement withNew Island Books Ltd.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any mannerwhatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of briefquotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Printed in the United States of AmericaCover design by Artmark

12 11 10 09 08 1 2 3 4 5

ISBN: 978-1-934848-02-9

Library of Congress Preassigned Control Number (PCN) applied for

OPEN DOOR SERIES

Patricia ScanlanSeries Editor

CHAPTER ONE

Danny Murphy was going to meet hisbrother.He wrote in his notebook: “Meeting

my brother at 8 o’clock.” He knew itlooked silly. “My brother” instead of“Jimmy”, his brother’s name.When he spoke to Jimmy on the

phone, two days ago, Jimmy had calledhimself “Jim”. And their mother stillcalled him James. Jimmy or Jim or James.Danny didn’t know what to call him.He hadn’t seen or heard from Jimmy

in twenty years. More.Twenty-one years.But then, two days ago, the phone rang.

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“Dad?”His son, Little Dan, shouted from the

hall downstairs.“Yes?” said Danny.He was upstairs, shaving.“Jim wants you,” said Little Dan.Danny wiped his face with a towel as

he went down the stairs. He knew a fewmen called Jim. So he didn’t know whohe’d be talking to when he picked up thephone.“Hello?”“Danny?”“Yes?”“It’s Jim.”Danny waited for more. He didn’t

know the voice.“Jim, your brother.”“Oh.”That was all. “Oh.” Danny could think

of nothing else to say. No other wordscame to him.His brother spoke again.

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“How are you?” he asked.“Fine,” said Danny. “Yourself?”“Grand.”“Good,” said Danny.“So. Do you want to meet?”“OK,” said Danny.“For a pint or something.”“OK.”And now, here he was. It was two days

later and he was on his way to meetJimmy. His long-lost brother.The bus was coming up to his parents’

house. It was the house he had grown upin.It was the house Danny and Jimmy

Murphy had grown up in.

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CHAPTER TWO

They were never apart, the Murphybrothers. Jimmy was a year older thanDanny, so they weren’t twins. But theywere like twins. Everybody said it. Theirparents, their sisters, the neighbours.They all said it. Even the O’Connorsisters down the road said it, and theywere twins.It wasn’t just because they were always

together. There was more to it than that.They didn’t have to speak to each other.That was it. One brother always knewwhat the other one wanted or needed.Danny would pass the salt to Jimmy just

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before Jimmy put his hand out for it.Danny would pass the ball to Jimmywithout having to look first.Once, a teacher was just about to

smack Jimmy for not having a red biro.Then there was a knock on the classroomdoor. And Danny walked in – with a redbiro. Most of the boys in the class clappedbut one or two started crying.They were never apart. Through

primary school and secondary school,they were always side by side. Games,gangs, football, girls, Guinness – theydiscovered them all together. They bothgot Lego from Santa.They both got theirfirst kiss from the same girl. (Mind you,so did every other boy in the parish.)They got drunk together the first time.They shared the same hangover the nextmorning. They shared their money. Theyshared their clothes. They shared theirlives.They shared the same bed.

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“Go to sleep!” their mother shouted.The kitchen was under the bedroom.

Her voice came through the floor-boards.This happened when Jimmy was ten

and Danny was nine.They put their heads under the

blankets so their mother wouldn’t hearthem laughing. And they met the smellthat had made them laugh in the firstplace.Jimmy’s farts were famous.“Oh, God!”Danny tried to get his head out from

under the blanket. But Jimmy wouldn’t lethim. He held Danny’s head down on themattress. Danny kicked and tried to getaway from Jimmy’s grip.He could hear their mother.“If I have to come up to you, there will

be two sorry boys in the Murphy house!”Danny pushed and pulled but he

couldn’t move Jimmy. His neck was sore.He couldn’t breathe. He had stopped

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laughing a long time ago. Jimmy’s fingerswere hurting his neck.He tried to yell for his mother.

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