My dad said that Ballyshane was for sale. They were selling the house with a couple of acres and the farm separately. That took the heat off me. My dad has wanted to buy Ballyshane House as long as I can remember. He even got me to do a project on it for History once. He said: The local company of the Irish Volunteers was formed up there, Captain Corry was head and tail of it, and the Black and Tans raided it so often, I remember my own father telling me about the Crossley tenders going up full of men with rifles and Glengarry caps. Right, Dad. Dad and History don’t go together. I am staring at him with my mouth open. But I should have known. He knows the history of houses all right.

Holly and me say politics is just coloured stickers now. We don’t have big causes to fight for like The Freedom Of Ireland or Revenge For Skibbereen. We have a Blue Party, a Green Party and a Pink Party. My dad is Blue Party. Instead of elections people should just be asked what’s their favourite colour. And they should wear coloured shirts or tracksuits or something. And my dad is in well with the Blues and the Greens because of property. Blues and Greens are For Property, Pink is For The Working Man except it turns out they’re For Property too lol just not saying. Like the motto for this country should be The Builders Will Save Us. I don’t know what the actual motto is if we have one idk.

So I did a project on it. Old Captain Corry was dead of course, but his daughter let me look at his diaries and stuff. It wasn’t proper research but it was the closest I ever came to it and I made up my mind that if my family didn’t eat me some fine morning because there was no porridge I would do History and become a Researcher. I would spend my life reading dead people’s diaries and writing books about them. That was me. I would find forgotten people and remember them.

Are you going to buy it?

He looked at me. I’m thinking about it.

If you buy it can you buy all the furniture and stuff?

My mother rolled her eyes.

My dad said, Maybe we could. Some of it is good. There’ll be an auction probably.

I don’t want any of that old stuff, my mother said.

Could you buy the diaries and papers?

My dad shrugged, I have an idea the old bitch gave all that stuff to the university. Or sold it more likely.

But if she didn’t?

Well, I’ll be dealing with an auctioneer.

Why can’t you phone her up and ask her if she’d sell it to you?

She’s in America with her niece.