And Jayzus Himself, from His place on the cross, which in pity is at the Heart of Time, speaks through the mouth of a priest in H3: this is an old one, lags, He says to I’s – He calls I’s lags, like echoes in time – so stop me if you think you’ve heard it before.

Pat and Mick, He says to I’s, this pale Jayzus that we can all see before us and that is lagging like Bobby only on the wall of a chapel in The Maze and not in a pish-stained hospital bed across the way, it’s Pat and Mick and they’re away on their holidays, Jayzus says to I’s, and He says it without speaking, without moving His lips or opening His eyes to all of the horror stood before Him, to all of the Jayzus to come, but to hear Him is as plain as the pale light rising beneath His skin, rising up and lightning His skin as if He is give birth to the moon, and His eyebrows raised in a pained expression, rising up at the suffering that His Father brought down on the world (let’s face it) so as they look like a child’s drawing of a bird and He says to I’s, two old muckers, Pat and Mick, are dandering along the street in America, in eternity, in New York, and they look up toward the sun, the sun is come beaming out of the heavens and they hold their palms up flat to feel the sun on their hands, to feel the sun in the centre of their palms they hold their hands up in salute, and Mick turns to Pat and he says to him, all in the voice of Christ Jayzus which is the voice of the priest and which is coming from Forever at the Heart of the Cross, he says to him, sure is that the same sun we have back in the Ardoyne? And Mick says to him, sure Pat I wouldn’t know, let’s ask someone, and at this point Jayzus takes one of His pale white hands from the cross and presses it to His face and you can see the wound in the centre of His palm, which is like a beautiful, delicate labia, and He puts it back in place without a word and everyone looks at each other like – what?!