He tried to think of the last time he’d been to a gig. It came to him with a wince. It was U2 at Earls Court, maybe eight years ago. No, he hadn’t been to the pub all day. He’d been in a very important and tediously boring cross party committee meeting, and begged a young Tory he didn’t particularly know very well, or indeed like very much, to come with him, after his colleague let him down at the last minute. They didn’t have time to get changed and so arrived at the concert suited, booted and very sober. His abiding memory of the event was having to explain to his new friend that the ‘drunken yobs’ who were jumping around and spilling their drinks everywhere were not, in fact, a menace to society but were behaving as they should at a rock concert. They left the gig early and instead spent the evening in a members club where they were joined by two more ‘suits’ and debated the inherent flaw at the heart of the government’s recent economic policy. No, Cormac’s last gig was not very rock and roll at all!

‘Of course I remember what it’s like going to gigs. I think 11:30 is a little early to be getting into the spirit of things that’s all.’

‘Oh, give your head a shake, you miserable oul’ bastard!’

‘Harry?’

‘For Christ’s sake, Cormac the wee girl is drinking orange juice and listening to some music. Would you ever listen to yourself? Do you not remember the time when you were sixteen and I’d to carry you to my house and clean the shit off you before you went home?’

Cormac cringed at the memory.

‘Is Annie still beside you, Harry?’

‘Yes, she’s right here.’

‘Oh, well, cheers for the old, ‘your father shit himself’ story there, partner! She couldn’t have lived without that one, I’m sure!’

‘I’m just pointing out the hypocrisy of parenthood, my friend. We’re all guilty of it. Listen, she’s a sensible girl and I’m here with her until about six o’clock, so no harm will come to her. When you’re finished with Bernadette, if she hasn’t finished with you already that is, what say we rendezvous at the hotel, or are you intending to blow me out for the whole trip?’

In truth, he wanted to stay with Bernadette for the whole trip, and if in the unlikely event she agreed, then he categorically would ‘blow out’ Harry and Annie and anybody else, for that matter.

‘Absolutely Harry. I’ll meet you at six and thanks for looking after Annie for me. Could you put her back on, please?’

‘You’re forgetting something, my friend.’

‘What’s that?’

‘You owe us an apology for being a prematurely middle-aged boring bastard!’

He had a point.

‘I’m sorry, Harry.’

‘Hang on one moment, my friend. That’s better now. What are you sorry for again? Say it loud, Cormac.’

He looked to the window. His tormentor was not there. He said it.