He came back to the sofa. He lifted
MacMurrough's wine and silently gave
it into his hand. They listened to
the night sounds through the window,
while the mood recouped, repossessed
them.
"MacEmm, can I ask you? I don't know
does it mean .. does it mean any-
thing with marrying, MacEmm? Doyler
and me..
I don't know, you see..
I never thought of it before and then I wondered, is it this way
you'd be with a wife? You see, I
don't know."
"MacEmm, you haven't brought this
from England with you, you know.
It was here anyway. I wasn't the
first in the Crock's Garden and I
doubt I'll be the last. I'm sorry
for the soldier for I doubt I was
much comfort to him and I hope he
found better joy where he went.
But you know I wouldn't live that
way. It will be different, won't
it?"
Jamie O'Neill
op. cit.
Scribner, 2001©
i Charlotte Hedley©
iii The New York Times©
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