‘Moira, stop,’ Peader said.

‘That fella was not right, Daddy. He had an awful sinister cut to him altogether.’

‘He did admit to topping a cat,’ Mikey said.

‘No one’s denying that’s not usual behaviour,’ Peader said.

‘That buck was from another planet,’ Moira said.

‘Well, the Alps have him now,’ Mikey said.

‘Speaking of other planets,’ Moira said.

‘What have you got against the Alps anyway?’ Mikey said. He held the cigarette up so Moira could take it over his shoulder.

Moira slapped her hands together, took the cigarette and stepped back from Mikey.

‘I drive better with drink taken,’ she scoffed. ‘I guess you can’t argue with that logic.’

‘Sure won’t you be driving home with a few on you yourself.’

‘I will,’ Moira said, ‘but I won’t be proud of it. That’s the difference.’

‘Are they proud of it?’ Mikey asked.

Moira shrugged and took a drag.

‘Oh, I’d love a go,’ Peader said, watching his daughter smoke.

‘You could have one puff,’ Moira said, ‘if it was just the one. But it wouldn’t be, would it?’

‘It would not,’ Peader agreed. ‘I think we will say goodnight, young Mikey. I hope you get this mess sorted.’

Moira passed the cigarette back to Mikey.

‘Keep the sword,’ she told him.

‘Goodnight,’ Mikey said and watched the two walk off into the dark. Mikey was able to mark their progress by the wheedling rattle of Peader’s trolley over the car park stones and the snorts of consternation that came from the invisible cows. Mikey smoked the remainder of the cigarette and studied the sky, the glimmering points of the stars, for the trace of a deliberate, fugitive movement, but none was forthcoming. He went into the clubhouse, rooted out a torch. Back at the smoking area, he hesitated by the sheathed sword, propped against the wall where Moira had left it. He picked it up and set off into the dark of the grounds, the light from his torch roving across the black in search of the rupture, or gap, or wherever it was the cows had come out of.

WHOEVER IS THERE, COME ON THROUGH

Eileen watched the bus pull into the depot and the passengers debark, stiff and groggy, into the crisp November air, their breaths flashing like handkerchiefs in front of their faces. She was in her car, the window rolled all the way down, her arm slung out. She was smoking a cigarette but the cigarette had gone out and her arm had turned numb, not from the cold but from the pressure of its own hanging weight. Eileen liked the sensation, as if her arm were holding its breath.