“So do I,” said Jack. “I taught him Irish for a while.”

The wife gave a scream of laughter.

“Oh, you’re a laugh,” she said.

“You think you know him,” the man continued undeterred, “but you don’t know us. When we drive over the border into the South something sacred happens. Something holy. We are safe for a while. But if he gets to power, we are not safe. If I have to go up to Belfast, I’ll kill him,” he said in a quiet obsessive voice, and both of them looked at his wife who had gone to the bar.

He lifted his gin and tonic. He was thirty, fresh-faced, and had lived a couple of lifetimes. His wife, small and dark and pertly over-dressed, came back from the bar smiling. She put a drink in front of Jack. He thanked her.

“The Provos have used our house twice to kill. So we’ve moved twice. Both houses were used, can you believe that? Now we’re in a new place on the border with Derry. We are starting a new life. But I know a gun. The insides of a gun. And if I have to, I will. I won’t walk around in fear. The Donegals think he’s a great fellow. I know different. They just want to help us Northerners and they think he stands for justice. They’re wrong. I’ll take him the day he comes to power. Believe me, Mister. And I don’t intend to wing him, no. The Catholics, never mind the Protestants, have had enough.”

For a while the three of them sat facing forward, saying nothing as the bar filled up.

“I love this place,” said Sue, turning to Jack.

“They say you grow used to it,” replied Jack.

“Never!” she exclaimed and she shook her head. He found her eyes on his. “What do you do?” she asked.

“Years ago I went on to be a doctor.”

She laughed in disbelief.

“Now I’m a fisherman,” he admitted.

“That’s more like it,” she said and then the three of them resumed their watch.

“Of course, the Republic is soft like that,” ruminated the husband. “They feel guilty. Who wouldn’t.”

“I have to go to the toilet,” said Jack.

And when he returned he explained: “I’m having trouble, myself, with a woman.”

“Is she a feminist?” asked Sue. “Because if she is I don’t want to hear about her. Don’t talk to me of women’s rights. They’d have you believe a woman can’t be violent. I’ve heard enough of that till I’m sick.” She drank. “There’s something greater wrong and no one will own up to it. Am I right?”

“You’re right,” said her husband.

“The Provos tied us up in the kitchen,” she continued. “We were there for hours. There was only one gun –”

“The first time it was a Lee Enfield .303 mark 1 with sights,” the husband interrupted. “The second time it was a Lee Enfield .303 mark 2 with sights and a light intensifier. Things had improved in the meantime. It had a calibrated barrel, I’d swear, and a stock made to measure.” He thought back, “About sixteen inches.”