“Ah go on. You’re here, aren’t you? Don’t be standing all on your own. Come and have a bit of craic.” The man noticed me for the first time and held out his hand. “Hello. I’m Bob Jameson.”

I introduced myself and was rewarded with another firm handshake. So, this was Derek’s brother. At a push I could see that their features weren’t dissimilar.

“You’ve a grand town here,” he said with a twinkle. “Lovely part of the world, Donegal.”

His accent was different to his brother’s, with an infusion of upper-class English, making me recall Liam’s bus comment. I glanced down at the man’s red trousers, brown boat shoes and striped socks and pictured him having the contents of his washbag thrown at him the night before.

“Plus, they serve an excellent pint,” he added, raising his voice and his hand at Tony who responded with a thumbs up.

“You’ve made a friend there,” I said.

“Good sign of a town, a decent pint.”

Jude had turned away and was morosely calling another drink. Bob glanced briefly at his back before returning his attention to me. “So what do you do?”

“I’m a solicitor.”

His eyes narrowed in amusement. “Are you really?”

Derek appeared, beside his brother. “Two more Cokes needed.” He shot me a smile.

Bob turned to include him and do the introductions. “Derek, this is Ben, the local Perry Mason. Ben, this is my brother Derek, the runt of the family.”

I was impressed that he remembered my name, even more so that he got it right first time. Most people had to ask twice.

“We’ve met,” Derek said. “As a matter of fact, it was Ben I was trying to have a conversation with yesterday while you were sounding your horn at me.”

Bob raised his eyebrows and bowed an apology. “I am most sorry for my rudeness.”

While Bob ordered a round and Derek waited to help him carry it, I took the opportunity to leave and go back to our table. I was glad to see that Maeve was still there, although Marina had left without saying goodbye, which seemed a little odd. Maeve must have been standing up to let her out. Maybe she had gone to meet Harry, since it was her last night.

I slipped back into my seat and Phyllis nodded towards Jude, on his own again at the bar, the two brothers having returned to their seats. “Did you get much chat out of him?”

“A bit.” I passed Maeve her drink. “Why?”

“He seems like a nice man. He’s been in the shop twice, bought at least six books but I can’t get two words out of him.”

Liam’s amused voice cut across us. “Jesus, that man must be steaming!”