Bill nodded gratefully. “An unusual name. And by the way, don’t expect any help from Europe when it comes to achieving human rights in this part of Ireland. Europe hasn’t exactly rushed to help the people of Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia in their hour of need.”
Margie was giving my pyjama bottoms the once-over and I wasn’t happy about the expression on her face. Undisguised glee I think would cover it. I remembered then that I hadn’t any underpants on and heart in mouth I sneaked a look down to see if I was decent. Nothing in sight. I decided I’d be all right as long as I didn’t move. What the future held was something else. Truth to tell, I was in God’s hands.
“Too right,” said Seamus. “But can anybody tell me what America’s doing? Why are they sitting there doing nothing when people out in those places are getting slaughtered? The land of the free. Isn’t that what they call themselves?”
“You wouldn’t happen to have any more whiskey out there Master would you? I wouldn’t say no to a wee nip.”
Realising that I was the master in question I gazed raptly at the part of the floor visible between my legs and was horrified to see that a space had opened up in my fly and was widening even as I gazed. For this to happen in front of human remains and in company which included one female, broadminded though she clearly was, was bad enough but I was conscious that three other women would be emerging from the scullery any minute with tea, spring-sprongs and sandwiches no doubt. Or four was it? Hard to remember. I quickly crossed my legs.
BINABASA MO ANG
The Wake - Table of contents
HumorTHE YEAR is 1968 and the Swinging Sixties are still swinging - though not in Ireland. But wait! An old woman dies in a northern Irish town and her wake becomes a rendezvous for lesbians, bisexuals and political revolutionaries. And in there among t...
