Finding Keiko
`They say you should move on but you can't even get your shoes on..’ Keane, The way I feel.
This line from a song jumped out of me as I listened to the radio earlier and it has been going around
in my head all day. That’s it, I decided. I’m going to go to Ireland with Kev and try my luck over there. I
I am sick of scratching a living in London going nowhere fast. I will jack in the job at the golf club
tonight.
We needed to raise another £800 quid. I sold my crappy old car and got £350 for it, which I was
happy with as I only paid £500, and that was nearly four years ago. Kev had got £250 quid together
but half of that had been spent down at Jono’s with Declan on the leaving do. This was not going to
be easy.
“Kev. Look, let's just get the ferry tomorrow and go. Strike while the iron is hot and all that.”
“Yeah you are right if we don’t do it now we never will. OK, tomorrow it is deffo.” Kev shouted, above
the roar of the jukebox.
“We can stay with your Uncle Joe he won’t mind,” I replied “and maybe he might give us a few shifts
in his club”
I called for Kev at nine the next morning and to my amazement he was actually packed and ready to
go.
“We're going in Keiko’s car,” I told him. “He is coming too. He is up for driving and we will need transport
the other side to get to your Uncle Joe’s.”
“I’m not going in that thing! I still have some street cred, you know.” complained Kev.
“Yeah right. Just get in. No one knows you outside of Acton. I’m not happy about the motor as well but
we only need to give him a score each for petrol and that is our fare to Galway sorted.”
We both jumped in. I got in the front seat. Which meant I was in charge of the tunes. I wacked on my
Jam CD and blasted out Eton Rifles. We had our windows down and sang along to the parts we knew
of the song.
“Tear down the House of Commons in your brand new shoes... la la la ... Eton Rifles.. Eton Rifles..
I looked across at Keiko. He just shook his head and smiled in that Japanese way oh his.
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As we made our way to Dublin via Holly-Head I thought about my reasons for this latest trip. Kev was
in trouble again but he was old enough now to sort himself out.Why do I have to step in? I had to get
away from London. Work was doing my head in. Jackie and me were never going to get back
together. She has met an Iranian guy now, who can afford to take her out to all the finest places. With
she was lucky if she got to share some of my chips on the way home from the pub. London has
changed so much. No one goes to the pub anymore. Hardly any of the old crowd even live there now.
It is all new flats and foreigners everywhere. Brexit has ruined the country. We should never have
started the whole process of leaving Europe. The sooner we have an election and kick out that bunch
of idiots the better.
I found a Blondie CD in Keikos collection and stuck it on. Union City Blues blared out of the tiny Ford
Fiesta speakers.
“This song reminds me of Sharon,” said Keiko.” I wish she will go back to see me again”
“She was a great looking bird for sure,” I replied.
“I really loved her, you know? She was so beautiful.” Keiko told me yet again.
“Yeah.” I wasn’t going to start discussing girls so early in the trip it will only start Kev off. He was
sleeping off last nights party in the back. I thought he would back- out this morning when he sobered
up but no. He is adamant he is going to sort out his drinking and dope smoking before it is too late.
He was warned by his doctor last month that he has serious liver damage. His smoking is much
worse now too. His family won’t let him near the house anymore.
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We sat down in the nearest bar on the ferry. It was going to be a long session. I left the lads to it after
an hour or so. You can only drink so many coffees and cokes. I was never much of a drinker but after
the Heart disorder in 1998 the doctor warned me off the booze and fags for good. It was hard going at
first, but nowadays most people don’t even ask me why I am not drinking.
“Say hello to Fran and Tony? They are going to Galway too,” said Kev.
Where’s Keiko?” I asked.
“He’s up top getting some sea air. Don’t think he is feeling too well.”
“I’ll go and find him, catch up with you in a bit lads.”
The ferry was much bigger than I remembered. I was only 10 the last time I came over to Ireland on
the boat with my parents. You still get the same smell of sick everywhere. It was pretty crowded too.
Most of the seats on the top deck were taken by families with noisy kids running about like demented
puppies. I went out on deck for a walk.
It felt good to look out across the Irish sea, wind in my face, waves crashing against the hull and the
incessant screeching of seagulls overhead. I could just make out the land of my fore-fathers in the
distance. We would be docking in about an hour I had better get Keiko and make sure he is fit
enough to drive when we get off.
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“Found you at last. Are you ok?” I asked. Keiko looked like shit.
“I’m OK thanks, Davo. I just need to eat some food before the long drives across Ireland,” Keiko
replied.
“Don’t worry, I‘ll drive the first part so you can sleep it off in the back seat.” I suggested.
“Cheers mate but there is no way Kev is doing any driving not after last time.” Keiko seemed to be
angry with Kev, which was unusual. They always got on so well.
As we entered the bar to collect Kev and his new best friends the distinctive harmonica tune and the
the first lines of Dirty Old Town by the Pougues rang out.
“I met my love by the gasworks wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal.
I kissed my girl by the factory wall.
Dirty old town. Dirty old town.”
“I love this song it gets me every time I hear it.” I stated to no one in particular.
Kev was deep in conversation with Fran and Tony. He had invited them to join us in the tiny Fiesta car
for the trip to Galway and they agreed to cover the petrol costs. That was why Keiko was pissed off.
“They speak a foreign language,” Keiko complained to me.” Why don’t they speak good English like
you and me?”
I didn’t bother to reply to this. Keiko’s English is fantastic but there is no way he could be expected to
follow the fast- paced Dublin accent, with its frequent idioms and colloquialisms. I struggle myself and
My Dad was from Dublin.
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“Where's ya man, the Jap fellah?” Fran asked.
“Keiko. He went outside he is still feeling a bit queasy.” Kev said.
“He looks a bit yellow alright.”
“That’s not funny!” replied Kev.
I’ll go find him, Tony said, getting up and going outside the busy cafe.
We were in Kelly’s cafe at The North Wall Ferry Dublin enjoying a lovely Irish Breakfast. Kev and
Tony were happy to sit around all day discussing the state of English football and the decline in Man
UTD’s form. I wanted to get a move on. So did Keiko. I wasn’t too happy with the idea of bringing
these two new friends of Kev along to Galway. We didn’t know them.
Tony insisted on paying for all our breakfasts so maybe the new lads weren’t quite so bad after all.
I was glad I was in the front driving, with Keiko alongside me. Three blokes in the back was a tight
squeeze. It wasn’t long before the moaning started but there was no way I was stopping yet we had
only been on the open road for about half an hour.
Keiko put on one of his CDs. Wonderwall by Oasis came on. Good choice as it drowned out any
noise from the back. Keiko seemed more relaxed now. The two of us had known each other from the
golf club years now. He is down there all the time. Keiko admits himself, he is obsessed with golf. I
don;t even like the game. I only work there because it is nice and near home and the owner lets you
have a free dinner.
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I was just starting to relax and take in the beautiful lush green views either side of me when Kev
piped-up from the back seat.
We need to stop now or I will wet myself.
Ok next place we see, Keiko replied.
We are only just passed Swords I said, can’t you wait a bit longer.
No. There is a bar called Flannagan’s let’s go there. My cousin used to work there.
Tony bought a round of drinks to our table in the empty bar. I always expect pubs to be packed in
Ireland but not today that's for sure.
We spent the next few hours on the road, the landscape stretching out before us in every direction. The weather was surprisingly good, with a few bursts of sunlight breaking through the clouds. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of freedom. Maybe this trip was exactly what I needed, even if it was only a temporary escape. In the back seat, Kev had fallen asleep again, his head bobbing with every bump in the road. Keiko sat quietly beside me, flipping through his CDs. We hadn’t spoken much since we left Dublin, but I could tell he was still upset about the whole situation with Kev and the others tagging along.
As we approached Galway, I noticed the change in the scenery—sparser, more open, with patches of farmland dotted between the occasional clusters of cottages. The air felt fresher here, less polluted than London, and I breathed in deeply, grateful for the change in pace. Keiko started humming along to the music, a soft, content smile on his face. It was rare for him to show emotion, but I could tell he was feeling more at ease. Maybe he was starting to relax too.
When we finally arrived in Galway, it was late afternoon. The town had a familiar charm, with its cobbled streets and pubs lining the river. It felt like a place where time moved a little slower, and people actually took the time to enjoy life. I had no idea what to expect from Uncle Joe, but I was hopeful. With any luck, we could find a way to make things work here, away from the mess of London. Keiko was already talking about finding a job in the local golf club, while Kev seemed more interested in finding a pub that sold decent pints. We had a lot to figure out, but at least for now, we were together, and that was a start.
