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Chapters (90)
  1. Cover
  2. By the same author
  3. SUZY SUZY
  4. Copyright
  5. Contents
  6. Glossary of Dialect Terms
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. 75
  82. 76
  83. 77
  84. 78
  85. 79
  86. 80
  87. 81
  88. 82
  89. About William Wall
  90. An Invitation from the Publisher

They were the kind of stories that Peter told me. Tbh I think he never learned about the realistic convention in Leaving Cert. Like we almost didn’t do it ourselves except someone found out about it on Wikipedia. It was like he lived in a fairy story himself idk here he was on his own miles from anywhere and his head was full of these things. It was sad. Somebody should write them all down before he dies.

Why didn’t you marry someone, Peter?

I was never taken enough with anyone, he said. The girls around here are flighty and I never liked flightiness.

I didn’t know what flightiness meant, but I thought maybe it could mean someone like Serena and I could see why he wouldn’t want to marry someone like that. And then again maybe I was flighty myself idk. I was going to say I didn’t like flighty girls either but I thought I might give the wrong impression. So instead I told him about Holly and he said I was lucky to have such a good friend. I told him that my family was totally dysfunctional, if you google it we have nearly all the signs, and I didn’t know which of them I’d kill first, my dad or my mam. He thought that was funny. Oh kill your father, he said. Fathers is always trouble, although it’s nearly always the son kills the father, still they could make an exception once in a while. The two of us chuckled about that. I said only for Holly I would go crackers. He went and made another pot of tea. We had scoffed all the biscuits by then. I could hear him whistling through his teeth in the kitchen. It is the lonesomest sound. Or so I believe anyway.

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