Slapping a note on the counter of his favourite public house, he told the landlord, ‘A pint for everybody, and I’ll have a drop of the hard stuff for meself.’ He winked at the man and got a whiskey in return.

When the second one was ordered, the landlord shook his head. ‘Take it easy, old fella,’ he said. ‘You’re not used to spirits.’

‘He won!’ Michael was so excited he couldn’t keep still. ‘My grandson Alfie went to America and beat the Yankee, so he did!’ And everyone raised their glasses to Alfie. ‘Our lad!’ they chorused.

Three days later, Michael was still in bed, recovering from the after-effects of his celebrations.

‘Honest to God, Molly, wouldn’t ye think the silly old sod would have more sense than to be off boozing all the night long!’ Rosie was up in arms. ‘Sure, anybody would think he was in his twenties, instead of his late seventies.’

Strapping Eddie into his pram, Molly looked up apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, Rosie, I wasn’t listening.’

Something in the girl’s eyes made Rosie pause. ‘No, darlin’. It’s me that should be sorry.’

‘What for?’ Straightening up, Molly put on her coat and tied a scarf round her head.

‘For going on and on like a fool, about me da coming home paralytic the other night, when all the time you’ve not heard a word I’ve said.’

‘Is he no better this morning, Rosie?’

‘Huh! If ye ask me, the old bugger’s still drunk as a skunk. He’s got a head as thick as a plank, and his hands can’t be still long enough to hold a cup, never mind the amount o’ whiskey he musta swallowed. An’ on top of all that, he’s up and down to the lavvy all the night long, so’s I can’t get a wink o’ sleep.’

Throwing her hands up in frustration, she groaned, ‘Honest to God, I’ll throw him out the window if he doesn’t stop, so I will.’

Molly laughed. ‘Don’t be too hard on him,’ she pleaded. ‘He’s so proud of what Alfie’s done.’ She hesitated. ‘And so am I.’

‘Aw, sure don’t I know you’re proud like the rest of us, but in your case, it might be better if the boxing was out of his blood altogether.’

Putting on her own coat and scarf, she followed Molly along the passage to the front door. Here she helped her lift the pram down the steps. ‘Ah, will ye look at that!’ she cooed, peering into the pram. ‘The wee soul’s fallen asleep, so he has.’

‘That’s because he was awake half the night with an upset tummy,’ Molly explained. ‘But he seems to have settled down now, thank goodness.’ Turning the key in the lock, she came down the steps to take charge of the pram. ‘Bertha played me up this morning an’ all,’ she said. ‘Before you came round, she was throwing tantrums and upsetting Milly. And even as far as the classroom door, she was giving me grief.’