Now what the hell’s the problem he said. Get me the wee axe siri he said one way or another I’ll open the fucker up. He decapitated the bottle with one angled blow. Festive liquid sprayed over the tablecloth and into our glasses.

Cheers father said and caught everyone’s eyes in turn. No one could look away. It’s grand to see you all again. The hospital is a good place but nothing is better than the bosom of the family.

I pretended to sip. Mother pretended to sip. Bror drank the lot in one go and held out his glass for more. Father chuckled and topped it up. Well well. Seems the lad takes after his father.

Thankfully there was nothing more to drink that evening.

A rumbling noise woke us up the next morning. 127

The slaughterhouse lorry was reversing into our yard. I ran out in my pyjamas.

Father was standing in the byre door. He held limerick’s bridle in a firm grip. The horse’s eyes were rolling with terror. No I screamed. You mustn’t.

I tried tearing the bridle out of father’s hand but he was strong. He might have lost strength in other parts but not in his arms.

He shouted to the butcher. Get the gun. The nag will be mincemeat.

Limerick reared. Danced throwing himself sideways.

I hit the butcher in the belly. Hit father in the belly and wherever else I could reach. They just laughed at me.

Once the butcher held the bridle father grabbed my struggling body in hard lock. Forced me to watch when the butcher put the stungun to limerick’s forehead and pressed the trigger. The horse’s legs folded under him. He sank to the ground. A few last breaths wheezing through his muzzle. His eyes fixed on me wondering why I didn’t do something.

I screamed. Father still held me. Now he was pressing me to his body and let me cry against his green overalls. I had never cried over anything. Not in the milking parlour or anywhere else but now I couldn’t stop. He was still holding me in his arms. I so desperate for support that I was weeping on limerick’s executioner.

He stroked my hair. Told me the horse was old. That it was better this way. But I understood all right. He couldn’t kill me so he killed the horse instead.

The butcher’s lorry drove off.

When father let go of me I ran to the forest. Ran past bror who had hidden behind a couple of hay bales. He didn’t even see me. He saw only father. 128