It’s a long walk from the graveyard to our room. Mam tells Dad, These children need some nourishment and you have money left from the dole this morning. If you’re thinking of going to the pubs tonight you can forget it.We’re taking them to Naughton’s and they can have fish and chips and lemonade for ’tisn’t every day they bury a brother. The  fish  and  chips  are  delicious  with  vinegar  and  salt  and  the lemonade is tart in our throats. When we get home the room is empty.There are empty stout bot- tles on the table and the fire is out. Dad lights the paraffin oil lamp and you can see the hollow left in the pillow by Eugene’s head.You expect to hear him and see him toddling across the room, climbing up on the bed to look out the window for Oliver. Dad tells Mam he’s going out for a walk. She says no. She knows what he’s up to, that he can’t wait to spend his last few shillings in the pubs.All right, he says. He lights the fire and Mam makes tea and soon we’re in bed. Malachy and I are back in the bed where Eugene died. I hope he’s not cold in that white coffin in the graveyard though I know he’s not there anymore because angels come to the graveyard and open the cof- fin and he’s far from the Shannon dampness that kills, up in the sky in heaven with Oliver and Margaret where they have plenty of fish and chips and toffee and no aunts to bother you, where all the fathers bring home the money from the Labour Exchange and you don’t have to be running around to pubs to find them. 90