“Not if Pádraic Pearse himself was playing.”
“Where is the game?” Máire wanted to know.
“Creel,” Barney said, his mouth full of meat.
“You’ll be going on the bike, so. Did you get that brake fixed?”
“It’s all right.”
She frowned. “Is it fixed, is what I asked.”
“I’ll manage all right for now.”
“You didn’t manage too well when you hit that hole on Rathmeelin Hill last time, did you? Weren’t you lucky not to break a limb? Daddy, tell him.”
“Your mother’s right, son. You need the brakes to be in order.”
“I’ll fix it later. I’ve no time now.”
“What has to happen to you before you get sense? What do you have to be inviting accidents into your life for?”
“I’ll fix it later, Mammy. Honest I will.” He gave her one of his humouring smiles. “Honest.”
Close under her chiding of them these
