–I’ll hardly have time for breakfast myself, he said, but he seemed kind of delighted.—No rest for the wicked.

–Can I go up to her? I said.

–She’ll be asleep.

–Just to look.

–Better not; you might wake her. Better not. D’you mind?

–No.

He didn’t want me to. There was something.

–What about your lunch? he said.—You’ll have to stay in.

–Sandwiches, I said.

–Can you manage? I can get the girls ready.

–Yeah.

–Good man, he said.—Francis’s as well, right?

–Okay.

The butter was hard. I’d seen my ma doing it, scraping the top with the knife. I couldn’t do it though. I just put pats of butter in each corner of the bread. There was nothing in the fridge to put in the sandwiches, not that I could see, except cheese, and I hated that. So I just made bread sandwiches. I made Sinbad’s as well, just in case Da checked. There was nothing wrong with my ma. If he was smiling when he came back down I’d ask him for money for crisps for the sandwiches.

He smiled.

–Can we get crisps for the sandwiches?

–Good idea, he said.

He knew I was asking for the money to buy them. He had the girls in his arms; he had them laughing. Crisp sandwiches. I’d have to sneak out of the school at break because we weren’t supposed to leave the yard, unless we were going on a message for one of the masters. There was definitely nothing wrong with her. Except she was a bit sick; I could tell for definite now. She had a tummy or a headache, that was all, or a bad cold. Da put Catherine down so he could get money from his pocket. Nothing that would stop her from being downstairs when we came home.

–Now.

He’d found the money.

–There now.

Two shillings.

–One each, he said.—Make sure now.

–Thanks, Da.

Sinbad had come back.

–Da gave us a shilling for each of us, I told him.

–Will Mam be better when we come home? he said.

–Probably, said Da.—Maybe not; probably.

–Crisp sandwiches, I told Sinbad.

I showed him the two shillings. I got out my hankie, put the two shillings in and stuffed the hankie right down, down into a corner of my pocket, the two shillings locked under it.

I took my time getting home, on purpose. I put my bag between Aidan and Liam’s hedge and the wall and we went looking for the Weirdy Fella. The Weirdy Fella lived in the fields. There were hardly any fields left but he was still out there. I’d seen him once. He jumped into a ditch just when I was looking. He had a big black coat on him and a cap. He was all dirty and his back was crooked. He had no teeth, just two black stumps, like Tootsie’s. I didn’t see his teeth—he was too far away—but that was what they were like. I just saw his shape. We’d all seen him that day. We ran after him but he got away. We were going to kill him for all the things he did. He ate birds and rats and anything good he could get out of bins. My da always put the bin outside our gate on Wednesday night because the binmen came round on Thursday morning and he was in too much of a hurry in the mornings. One Thursday the lid was off the bin and there was stuff all over the path, bags and bones and tins and all the things that had been in the top half of the bin, the Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday stuff. I went back in and told my ma about it.

–Cats, she said.—Fizz it.

I went out again; I was going to school. I looked. There was a bit missing off a piece of bread. It was round, heel-shaped. I kicked the bread away; the shape stayed stuck to the ground. The weirdy Fella.

No one owned him. A girl in Baldoyle had had to be brought into hospital in Jervis Street after she fainted when she got home after the Weirdy Fella’d jumped up in front of her out from behind a pillar and had shown her his mickey. The guards never found him. He knew when you were on your own.

–He was in the army during the war, said Aidan.

There was just me and Aidan and Liam. Kevin had had to go somewhere with his ma and da; his granny was sick and he had to wear his good clothes. He had a note to let him out of school early. I was glad that Kevin wasn’t coming, but I didn’t say anything.

–How d’you know? I said.

I didn’t say it the way I would’ve if Kevin had been with us.

–He got shot in the head and they couldn’t get the bullet out properly so that’s why he’s mad.

–We should still kill him.

–Yeah.

–I’d say Kevin’s granny is dying, said Liam.—We had to wear our good clothes when Ma died. D’you remember?

–No, said Aidan.—Yeah. There was a party after.

–A party?

–Yeah, said Aidan.

–Yeah, said Liam as well.—Kind of. Sandwiches and the grownups had drinks.

–So did we.

–Some of them sang songs.

I wanted to go home.

–I don’t think we’ll find him, I said.—It’s too bright.

They agreed. No Chicken or Scaredy cat or anything like that. I got my bag and slowed myself, made myself walk normal. I got a leaf off Hanley’s tree and folded and watched the crease getting darker and where the leaf broke. I got to the gate.

She was still in her dressing gown. That was all.

–Hello, she said.

–Hi, I said.

Sinbad was already home with his shoes off. There was nothing wrong with her to see.

–Are you still sick?

–Not really, she said.—I’m fine.

–Do you want me to go to the shops?

–I don’t think so, she said.—Francis was singing his new song for me.

–We had crisp sandwiches for our lunch, I told her.

–So I believe, she said.—Will you finish it for me, love?

–TALLYHO HOUNDS AWAY—

Sinbad looked sideways at the lino.

–TALLYHO HOUNDS AWAY—

TALLYHO HOUNDS AWAY

ME BOYS AWAY–

Ma started clapping.

She was in her dressing gown the next day as well but that was only because she hadn’t got dressed yet. She was better. She looked straighter. She moved quicker.

I’d stayed awake all night, as long as I could, most of the night. There was nothing. I woke up early—half bright. I got out of bed. I didn’t make noise when my feet got to the floor. I got to their door, over the creak just on front of it. I listened. Nothing. Asleep. My da’s noise. My ma’s noise under it. I went back. Bed was nice when you got back in after you got out for a bit when it was still warm. I kept my feet up near me. I didn’t mind being awake. I was the only one. I looked across at Sinbad. His head was where his legs were supposed to be. His feet were somewhere. I could see the back of his head. I looked. I saw his breathing. There were birds outside, loads of them; three different kinds. I knew: they were getting at the milk. There used to be a bit of a roof slate beside the step for the milkman to put on top of the bottles to stop the birds from getting at them but it was gone now. Then there was a biscuit tin lid and a big stone to put on top of it but they were gone as well; the lid was, I didn’t look for the stone. I didn’t know why everyone tried to stop the birds from drinking the milk. They only took the top bit, hardly any. I heard the alarm going off in their bedroom. I could hear the clock on the wood of the cabinet on my da’s side. I heard the alarm being stopped. I waited. I heard her coming to the door. I’d shut it properly after me. I pretended I was asleep.

–Good morning, boys.

I still pretended. I didn’t have to look; I knew it from her voice. She was better.

–Wakey wakey!

Sinbad laughed. She was tickling him. He was whinging as well, funny and annoyed. I waited for my turn.

That didn’t mean that there was nothing wrong, that nothing had happened. All it meant was that if something had happened between them, if they’d had a fight, she was better now. It was the first time she hadn’t got up, except for two days after she came home from the hospital after having Deirdre. She was in bed when we got home from our auntie’s; that was where we’d been when she was in the hospital. Our Auntie Nuala. She was my ma’s big sister. I didn’t like it there. I knew what was happening but Sinbad didn’t really, not really.