Willie Henry was looking suddenly crestfallen. “Father Swindells’ll be getting on to me the next time he sees me,” he said.

“How do you mean?” I asked.

“Seeing me with drink in me. Coming into a wake with drink in me. It’s not like this is out in the country or something. ”

“Wise up Willie,” said Seamus. “It’s none of his business what you do.”

Willie Henry’s snozzel was starting to run and he wiped it with his knuckles and rubbed the back of his hand discreetly behind the knee of his trousers. “Aw God I doubt it is.”

“Don’t you be worrying your head about that Willie,” said Margie. “The same wee man has his secrets.”

“Right?” said Jim.

“Aw aye. And he’s not above tapping old ladies for a bit of money to finance his habits either.”

“You’re telling me that Margie?” Jim was agog. Margie drank from the air, her free hand holding the invisible glass to her lips.

“You don’t say,” said Willie. “I never knew that now.”

“Aw aye. Sure the police stopped him on the lower deck of the bridge one night there at half two in the morning and he was all over the road.”

“I heard,” said Seamus.

“In his big Cortina,” continued Margie. “On the way back from a hard day’s night.” She laughed loudly and then quickly put her hand up to cover her mouth. “God forgive me,” she said, “and Maud lying over there.”