‘More’s the pity. Well done, the Alps boys,’ Denise said and stepped over to Bimbo. He cleared his throat and was about to correct his posture but she was already in on top of him. He could smell the lime and gin off her. She kissed him on the cheek and he felt her arms slide from his shoulders like scarves of silk and Denise McIlenden was away from him, moving towards the door.

‘Where are you off to?’ Softly said.

Denise opened the door. ‘You know what I’ve noticed about you, Softly.’

Softly said nothing.

‘You’re as stingy,’ Denise continued. ‘You’ve the stingiest outlook on the world. You’re incapable of extending even the tiniest untainted compliment to anyone, about anything, and it is awful wearying to be around.’

She left.

All within listened to the whinny and growl of the Mondeo’s engine out in the car park, watched the headlights bloom on the clubhouse windows and the crackle of the gravel as the car turned and left.

‘Well, now,’ Moira said.

Mikey placed a pint of tap water on the counter.

‘Drink,’ Bimbo said, guiding Derek back on to the stool. The young man gulleted down the water in one go, exhaled and wiped his mouth.

‘Good lad. This is yours,’ Bimbo said and handed the replica katana back.

‘Face is shining up decently, now,’ Rory said.

‘He landed a rap on your head, did he?’ Eustace asked.

‘He got me everywhere,’ Derek said.

‘Where’s it hurt most?’ Bimbo asked.

‘All over.’

‘Can you move your arm freely?’ Bimbo said. He took hold of the young man’s forearm and moved it in a slow circle. ‘How sore is that?’

‘It’s . . . not too bad.’

‘Did you really stab your mother’s cat?’ Eustace said.

‘I’m not proud of that.’

‘Well, you wouldn’t be,’ Eustace said.

‘No,’ Derek said. He licked his lips and fainted forward.

‘Watch,’ Bimbo said.

All the colour had evaporated from Derek’s complexion. He dropped his head and with a lurch of his shoulders all the water came back up in an opaque gout, drenching his shins and shoes and the carpet.

‘Ah, now,’ Bimbo said, the toes of his workboots spattered.

‘I don’t feel good,’ Derek moaned into his chest, and fell forward again, Bimbo catching him so he did not land on the floor.

Bimbo ducked down to see Derek’s face. His eyes were rolling in his head.

‘I think he’s out.’

‘Put him on his back on the ground,’ Moira said.

‘I am ringing Castlebar General,’ Mikey said.

‘He could swallow his tongue. Don’t let him swallow his tongue,’ Moira said, up off her stool. Peader began also to rise.

‘Daddy, don’t put yourself out,’ Moira said.

Bimbo tossed the sword to the floor and guided Derek’s limp body down on to the carpet. He tapped the young man’s cheek with two fingers.