Lough Glass

Dan O'Brien stood at his door looking up and down the street. Business in the Central Hotel was never so pressing that he couldn't find several opportunities during the day to come out and survey the main thoroughfare. Like many towns in Ireland, Lough Glass consisted of one long street.

The church was in the middle, the Brothers at one end and the convent stratgically placed fat at the other, giving the children as little chance of accidental meetings as possible. In between, there were shops, houses and businesses of his neighbours, fronting on to the same street as he did himself.

You could learn a lot by standing at your own door. Dan O'Brien knew that Billy Sullivan's two boys had come back from their uncle's once their father had been locked away. The fiction was that they had been visiting, helping the uncle out with the farm.

Everyone knew, of course, that Kathleen had sent them there to avoid the drunken rages and the unsettled atmosphere in the family houses. It was hard on children like that.

The lads were not to blame for the life they were born into. They were handsome little fellows, too, the very image of Billy himself before his face had turned fleshy from the drink and he had coarsened beyond recognition.

They would be company for poor Kathleen, anyway. Stevie must be about sixteen, and Michael was the same age as his own lad, Philip.

Philip didn't like him. He said that Michael Sullivan was tough, was always ready for a fight.

"So would you be if you had been brought up with an old man like his." Dan O'Brien said. "Not everyone is as lucky as you are, Philip." Philip had looked at him doubtfully.

But then, the young were never satisfied with what they got. Dan watched as the summer afternoon took its leisurely course. There was never much of a sense uf urgency in Lough Glass. Even a Fair Day had a relaxed air about it. But when the weather was warm like this, people seemed to move at half speed.