He was pale, as if he hadn’t seen daylight for weeks. There was something harried in how he looked along the bar, towards the door. She thought of Penny, saying they were worried about him. I’m all right, he said, as if he knew what she was thinking. Now please go behind that bar before I do something improper.

She washed glasses at the sink. A tankard was pushed at her and a man asked her for a refill. The sun was bright behind him and it wasn’t until she put the drink up that she recognised him. It was the third RUC man from the school disco.

Oh hiya, she said. I didn’t know you without your uniform.

Oo-er, said Leslie, a few pints on him and therefore capable of speech. Disco Peeler chuckled. Michael, who was standing beside him, looked from her to him expectantly. She didn’t think it appropriate to say the man was in the police, so she went back to washing the glasses.

The sun had moved, leaving the front of the pub in shade. The soldiers came indoors and took their usual table in the corner. Eamonn muttered an obscenity and went outside, clipping the door open. Chill air filled the room as he carried in their stools.

Minty took a tangle of gold from his pocket, stray charms, misshapen bangles, chains without clasps; lost property from the girls’ changing rooms. He offered it to Cushla, told her to pick one.

Those belong to wee girls, she said.

They’ve been in my office all year.

Office? said Fidel. A gloryhole with a sink in it, more like.

You see them changing rooms, Minty began and Cushla moved away so she couldn’t hear him. Eamonn said Minty was a dirty bastard, that he watched the girls undress for PE and talked about their lovely wee diddies. Whatever he was saying now was enough to bring Fidel to his feet.

Fuck’s sake, he said, I’ve a niece in that school.

All right, all right, boys, said Eamonn, behind the bar again.

Michael finished his drink and looked hard at Cushla, raising an eyebrow in the direction of the door. She took a dustpan and brush from under the sink and went outside, him a step behind her. The smell from the sea, the syrupy scent of seaweed. A crow picking at the contents of an overturned bin beside the flats.

Who was that man? he said.

One of the peelers who did the school disco.

I see.

What does that mean?

It’s hard seeing you like this.

Like what? Flirting with alcoholics? Wise up.

I may not be able to contact you for a few days.

Incommunicado. Must be serious.