Mam says, Sure, he was at school all day and he had to go to the doctor for his eyes. Well, you can bloody well forget about the bicycle.You didn’t live up to the bargain. But he couldn’t do it, says Mam. He tells her shut up and mind her own business and she goes quiet by the fire. He goes back to his fish and chips but I tell him again,You promised me. I emptied that chamber pot and did your messages for three weeks. Shut up and go to bed. You can’t tell me go to bed.You’re not my father, and you prom- ised me. I’m telling you, as sure as God made little apples, that if I get up from this table you’ll be calling for your patron saint. You promised me. He pushes the chair back from the table. He stumbles toward me and sticks his finger between my eyes. I’m telling you shut your gob, scabby eyes. I won’t.You promised me. He  punches  my  shoulders  and  when  I  won’t  stop  moves  to  my head.  My  mother  jumps  up,  crying,  and  tries  to  pull  him  away.  He punches  and  kicks  me  into  the  bedroom  but  I  keep  saying, You promised me. He knocks me to my mother’s bed and punches till I cover my face and head with my arms. I’ll kill you, you little shit. Mam is screaming and pulling at him till he falls backward into the kitchen. She says, Come on, oh, come on. Eat your fish and chips. He’s only a child. He’ll get over it. I hear him go back to his chair and pull it to the table. I hear him snuffle and slurp when he eats and drinks. Hand me the matches, he says. By Jesus, I need a fag after that.There’s a put-put sound when he puffs on the cigarette and a whimper from my mother. He says, I’m going to bed, and with the drink in him it takes him a while to climb the chair to the table, pull up the chair, climb to the loft. The bed squeaks under him and he grunts when he pulls off his boots and drops them to the floor. I can hear Mam crying when she blows into the globe of the paraf- fin oil lamp and everything goes dark.After what happened she’ll surely 294