" But you didn't laugh .sx .. " .sx " I didn't laugh but who are you ?sx " .sx " Tim Harding " .sx " Cecelia Sloan .sx I haven't much time , my father has a bad flu .sx I work in London .sx I only came this weekend because he sounded so bad on the phone even though my aunt is there but I just had to tell you , I've thought of you every day for the past two weeks .sx .. " .sx " I've thought of you every day .sx " .sx " No you haven't , buster , you were looking for an easy lay and when it didn't work you forgot about me .sx This isn't patter , I'm sincere and telling you simply because I can't help myself .sx " .sx What sort of gimmick was this ?sx I put my glass on the counter .sx " Listen to me for a change .sx I said I thought of you every day and I did .sx If you don't believe it then goodbye .sx And you're right , I was looking for a ride .sx This is Charlie's for God's sake .sx But now , now it's different .sx Please believe that .sx " .sx She looked at Charlie's clock - which had stopped , then at her watch .sx " I have to go .sx Walk me home .sx " She looked down the counter for attention and drew Charlie .sx " May I have a whiskey to go , please .sx " To me she said :sx " For my father .sx " Charlie wrapped up the small bottle - in a piece of newspaper rescued from the waste bin - took her money and gave her the change without a comment .sx So unlike Charlie .sx I had known all sorts of women since I started at sixteen with one of the bingo hall girls in Fulham Broadway yet when I tried to lift my glass for a last drop my hand shook .sx She put the whiskey in her shoulder bag , landed from the stool and walked to the door .sx Where she stopped and waited .sx Until I copped on and opened the door for her .sx " And who is Tim Harding , Tim Harding ?sx " She pulled my sleeve to make me walk on the outside of the footpath .sx " Tim Harding is a twenty-eight year old Fulham man , graduate of Trinity , Dublin , and presently chief executive of the one-man business , Fagend - that's my office across there , overhead the auctioneers .sx " .sx " Fagend ?sx " .sx " I help people stop smoking .sx " .sx " Oh Gawd !sx " .sx " Hold on , I'm really a maths teacher .sx But I got into this racket by accident and it beats work .sx " .sx " If you're a maths teacher you should be teaching maths , Tim Harding .sx " .sx " I know .sx I will .sx Teaching jobs are scarce here .sx I suppose I should go back to London , they can't get enough teachers there , all the good ones are dead , dying or cashiered for pederasty .sx " .sx " Cross here .sx That's where my father worked all his life .sx It used to be a Montague's .sx Now look at it .sx " .sx " I know .sx All I have to do is walk down town with Charlie .sx 'There's Mr Sloan .sx .. look at Yendall coming alone .sx .. would you look at the face of Simpson .sx ..' Charlie expresses it more colourfully .sx " .sx " I can imagine .sx " I stopped to look at the building where her father had worked all his life .sx To do the same thing all your life .sx Charlie climbed into my head with his myriad vocations .sx " .sx ..since I was ten collecting slops from the lanes at a ha'penny a bucket .sx .. " .sx " .sx ..Tim Harding , you may hold my hand .sx .. " And so our love affair began .sx The throat dry I turned away from Old Sloan's prison to the smiling Cecelia with her hand down by her side .sx I held her hand tightly and went to lean towards her to kiss her .sx " No .sx That comes much later .sx Keep walking .sx " .sx We walked across the bridge .sx I could wait for later .sx I could count my blessings .sx I was holding her hand .sx It was an autumn night .sx I was in love .sx I was in heaven .sx Apart from Donat's Sexton Square across the bridge was the most fashionable part of the city .sx This was so simply because it once was and old blood still lived there .sx We squeezed hands in silence until we reached the large wrought-iron gate , hundred yards' gravel driveway , garden with four oak trees and leaf covered lawn , the three storey red brick desirable residence of Sloan , Esquire .sx She let my hand go and folded her arms .sx " This is it , Tim Harding .sx " .sx " You must be rich , " I pointed out .sx " We haven't a bob .sx My father lived prudently .sx His own word .sx Goodnight .sx " .sx " Heeey .sx .. hold on there .sx Don't I at least get my goodnight kiss ?sx " .sx " That comes much later .sx As it is I've knocked off six months to hold your hand .sx What was good enough for my father and mother will be good enough for us .sx " .sx " What do you mean ?sx " .sx " My father walked out with my mother for six months .sx When he brought her home at night he raised his hat and thanked her for the evening .sx Then they held hands for three months .sx Then he proposed .sx She was wearing an engagement ring when they kissed .sx And a wedding ring when they made love .sx I think it was so wonderful , absolutely divine , don't you ?sx " .sx " You're kidding ?sx " .sx " Am I ?sx " .sx " You're not kidding .sx But when will I see you again ?sx When are you going back ?sx " .sx " In the morning .sx " .sx " I'll go with you to the airport .sx " .sx " No you won't .sx My father will .sx " .sx " I'll ring you .sx Charlie said you're with a publisher , what publisher ?sx " .sx " You won't ring me .sx I'm with William Drake .sx " .sx " Here's my card , you ring me .sx " .sx " Ha !sx You don't know William Drake , I'm afraid .sx I couldn't make a cross-channel call to James Joyce .sx " .sx " I know , I'll fly over to London , take you out to dinner .sx .. " .sx " No .sx Goodnight .sx I love you .sx " .sx She high-heeled it in the gravel .sx I didn't go back to the Statue of Liberty for half an hour .sx After crossing over the bridge I went down the steps and walked along the quay thinking like a Fagender , counting my blessings .sx No more could I indulge the grievance of my beautiful mother taken from me when I was seventeen and the discovery that Dr Bollix was my father .sx I had Cecelia Sloan .sx I reached Charlie's in time for one drink .sx Charlie is strict .sx Nobody is served after hours unless it is someone he thinks will give him the ride or Sam or myself .sx Sam was there .sx I congratulated him .sx Serving the drink , Charlie leered at me .sx " Harding , you black English Protestant , I told you , Sloan's daughter ?sx You'd have a better chance with Mother Mary fuckin' Aikenhead .sx " .sx " You cleaned his clock , Sam .sx " Sam started to tell me about the game but I don't think I caught a word .sx I was listening to the music .sx Cecelia , Cecelia , Cecelia .sx Charlie cleared the bar , stood Sam and me a drink , and came out to sit by the fire , drinking Ballygowan water by the neck .sx " What about the bollixes , what do they talk about ?sx " .sx " Loss of faith .sx Father Brock woke up one day and it was gone .sx Donat objects to ecumenism .sx Is there some part of the mass when people shake hands with each other , Sam ?sx " .sx " The priest says :sx Let us all offer each other the sign of peace .sx " .sx " Donat won't go along with that so I gather he stays away from mass which I must say is news to me .sx " .sx " It's news to me .sx I just assumed he went to the Jesuits .sx He never did go to the Redemptorists as long as I know him .sx I'm sad to hear that , Tim .sx And Father Brock too ?sx " It's funny .sx He 'Fucks' away like Charlie there .sx If his faith comes back he won't be able to swear so he sins now while the going is good .sx " .sx " Sin , my bollix .sx I'll tell you a sin story .sx Listen to this , Harding .sx And you too , Sam , 'twill do you good .sx When I was Tex with Paschal Larkin in Hank Larkin and the Hoedowners .sx It's about half past two on a Sunday morning , we've been playing about five hours straight - we didn't have a relief band , we were a fucking relief band .sx We pack away all the equipment and we're sitting in the back of the unheated van somewhere in the arsehole of Kerry waiting to start the three hour drive home .sx Bitterly cold .sx We knew how cold it got in the van so we're all sitting there wrapped in a blanket and muttering to each other like dispossessed fucking Indians .sx And the cause of our misery :sx Paschal has scored .sx Paschal did the Elvis bit , he used to have a French letter full of sand strapped to his leg so 'twould bulge out of his jeans even though his prick wasn't the size of my thumb .sx But he had this foolproof way of clicking .sx He'd scour the hall during the break until he'd find the ugliest , filthiest , scrapeist sic !sx woman in the hall .sx This night he's gone to fucking town altogether .sx Grossly fat , this woman has encased herself in the tightest black dress you could imagine , great bands of flesh encircle her like fucking car tyres .sx Her hair is a bee-hive job that hasn't been dismantled in years and her face is one big splodge of sweaty make up .sx Now the rule of the band was that anyone who clicked took the shortest time to get the job done - usually in the nearest field - so we could all get home .sx But it's so cold that even Paschal's knob would shrivel , so he shoves her into the long seat in the front of the van and dives on her .sx Sound of clothes being yanked off and then :sx 'You can't , you can't , it's me period .sx ' Grunts of disapproval from Paschal and then whispered instructions .sx Followed by a rhythmic rocking in the front seat .sx Then :sx 'Me hand is tired , you're never goin' a come .sx ' Further whispered instructions from Paschal .sx 'No , I don't like doin' that .sx ' Paschal with the poetry again .sx 'Promise you won't come in me mouth .sx ' Paschal grunted his agreement .sx Then great slurping sounds and little squeals of pleasure from Paschal .sx Progress is being made .sx Her nibs trying to wrench out from under but Paschal just gets there .sx Explodes into the poor bitch .sx The rest throw off their blankets and cheer .sx And meanwhile , young Charlie , without manual stimulation of any kind has shot his lot in his pants .sx And here's the question , Harding , you black English Protestant , and Sam , you statue licker , was what I did a sin ?sx And if it was , how in the name of fuck could I confess it ?sx " .sx Sam was nauseated .sx Charlie walking up and down , grinning , clutching his bottle of Ballygowan .sx It was the type of story I usually loved , typical Charlie iconoclasm but tonight Cecelia obtruded .sx Holding her hand .sx " To think that you call people to church , you're a disgrace to the tower .sx No wonder Dr Donat doesn't pick you when we have eleven , I don't know how the tower isn't struck by lightning .sx " .sx " You don't ?sx I'll tell you why .sx Because there's a lightning conductor up on it , you dumb prick .sx As for Dr Bollix conductor I knew his doctor bollix of a father before him .sx " Charlie's grin was gone .sx There was anger , bitterness in his face .sx " Old Dr Cagney - Dr fucking John - with the usual bullshit reputation for being kind to the poor .sx You'd have had to get yourself a fucking underground shelter to escape from the poor in those days .sx Everyone was the poor then except for the likes of the Cagneys and a few more like bollix Yendall in the office in Montague's , and that shower of drapers looking down their noses at carpenters for Jayses sake .sx Drink up that there , ye pair of bollixes , I had to give it up myself , couldn't handle it .sx When you find yourself in a hotel room for a month and having the booze and the dock whores sent up to you and only putting on a vest to be formal answering the door , 'tis time to give up .sx I know their history , you see .sx Farmers .sx Farming stock .sx But for an Irish farmer 'twas as necessary to have a doctor in the family as a fucking silver-laden mahogany sideboard in the parlour .sx His people set him up in Sexton Square after he got his doctorate .sx