Shouting and whistling caused him to open his eyes again. Coins were thrown on to the ground and the man and the woman bent to pick them up. He threw the ha’penny Mr Coyne had given him. ‘Did you enjoy yourself, Tom?’ Holy Mullihan said as they walked back along the promenade.

Tom said he had. He’d never thought knife-throwing would be as good as that. He’d never forget it when the man had put the handkerchief around his eyes, when the two girls screamed. He’d never forget a minute of it, he said.

‘D’you remember the word I told you, Tom?’ Holy Mullihan enquired when they were back in South Main Street, where the music, which had started again, was less noisy. ‘D’you remember what I was explaining to you?’

Tom nodded, in the hope that the conversation would not be repeated.

‘Illegitimate is what we have to say, Tom. The way a person is born.’

Tom explained to Holy Mullihan what he had explained before: that his father and mother had been unable to get married due to the fact that his father had been killed. They would have been married the same week, he said. His father had the wedding ring bought. He had furniture bought for the gate-lodge.

‘I know all that, Tom. You told me.’

Humpy Geehan called out to them, but Holy Mullihan didn’t answer. ‘You’re not in doubt when you say your Hail Mary, Tom?’ he said. ‘You know every word of it?’

‘I do of course.’

‘Don’t be sure of yourself, Tom. We’re not put on earth to be sure of ourselves.’

Tom didn’t understand that. He began to ask, but changed his mind. ‘I have to turn off here,’ he said when they came to Narrow Lane. ‘I have to go down the quays.’

Holy Mullihan continued on his way with him. There were other words that the boys at the Christian Brothers’ might use, he said, but they’d all mean the same thing. Having the ring bought didn’t make any difference.

‘He couldn’t help getting killed,’ Tom said.

‘There’s a story told, Tom, about St Francis of Sales. St Francis of Sales was going into heaven and they asked him for his sins, so he made a last Confession. “Another thing is,” he said, “I swallowed a shred of mutton on a Friday.” He ate the piece of mutton due to not knowing what day of the week it was. D’you understand that, Tom?’

‘I do.’

‘St Francis of Sales was turned away from heaven and had to wait a day, Tom. He made an excuse after he’d finished his Confession. If he hadn’t done that he’d have walked in as he stood. D’you understand, Tom?’

‘I do.’

‘St Francis of Sales told the story himself. There were labourers working in a field in France and St Francis of Sales appeared to them, coming back specially to tell that story. So’s that others would be helped. D’you follow the story, Tom?’