‘There’s your shoes.’

The man on the bed appeared to have dropped off into an uncomfortable sleep. He grunted, but made no movement. Joe slipped out of the room and went down and settled himself to his homework. As he sat down he heard the bed begin to creak and the rasp of his father’s breathing as he bent down to push the shoes on to his feet and fumble with the laces. He did the whole job remarkably quickly, and then his footsteps shuffled across the floor and down the stairs.

‘I’m away out. I have a few old friends to meet.’ He paused in the doorway. ‘After all …’ He was panting with the exertions he had just been through. ‘After all … friends … I’ll not be missed here anyway.’ His hand went with pride to his pocket. ‘My son gave me the wherewithal. Yes.’

He closed the door and Joe could hear him feeling his way along the passage. There was a sudden sharp laugh.

‘The wherewithal.’

The door slammed.

He must have spent the wherewithal in one savage go as he was laid flat on his back until Brendan came home on Thursday evening and they both went out together and didn’t come home until all hours.

‘I’ll not be back for tea,’ said Joe to the back of his mother’s head on Friday morning. She turned and looked at him.

‘Why? What are you up to?’

‘A couple of us are going to Logues for tea. Mrs Logue said we could. We have work to do. One of those project things.’

The words came out of his mouth too quickly. Under the table the fingers of both his hands were crossed and squeezed together. Her face was suspicious. ‘We’re going to have a game of football first.’ Weaving a tissue of lies. He uncrossed the fingers on one hand and took a large mouthful of toast. He chewed toast and lies and jam all together, watching her anxiously.

‘I won’t have you staying out late.’ Her voice was doubtful.

‘Miss McCabe says Jimmy Logue is better at maths than I am.’

That wasn’t a lie anyway.

‘She says it would be good if someone gave me a hand, from time to time, with my maths.’

‘It’s Miss McCabe’s job to do that;

‘She hasn’t the time. She’s worked half to death. Jimmy’s great at maths.’

There was silence between them. Upstairs his father called out suddenly, nothing in particular, just a sudden cry in his sleep.

‘Will you be home by eight if I let you go?’

His heart lifted.

‘Ooh yes, Mam.’

‘And don’t be playing out in the street after it’s dark. And don’t be going near any trouble. They’re good people, the Logues. You can go this once anyway.’

‘Thanks, Mam.’

That was that.

‘How was Brendan’s job?’

‘I don’t know, son. He was in and out like a dose of salts, taking your Daddy with him. I never saw them again, thank God. He seemed happy enough. He gave me a few pound to keep me quiet.’ She laughed sharply. ‘That’s all that matters, the few pound. I’m not complaining and I’m not making any enquiries either.’