Tales from the Long Bar= a day like no other

A large unkempt Irish wolfhound burst through the pub doors. Pat looked up expecting the owner, but he didn't appear.

Doherty entered the bar, glanced at the dog.

“Yes Pat.”

“Aye, yes yerself, Doherty.”

“Usual please and may as well treat yer man.”

“What man would that be?”

“Yer eejit, O'Mally.”

“He's not here.”

“Who?”

“Yer eejit, O'Mally. Is his stupidity contagious, yer beginning to sound like him.”

“Is that no Cromwell by the door.”

“Looks like it, but O'Mally's not here.”

“Can't be two dogs like Cromwell.”

“Aye I know Doherty. Here give it the ashtray of porter. If it drinks it down it'll be Cromwell.”

Doherty took the ashtray and placed it in front of the dog. He toyed with the idea of patting the dog or giving it a stroke, but it could be Cromwell. The dog drank it down while watching every move Doherty made.

“scary feeding that dog.”

“Even scarier not feeding it.” said Pat.

A large cardboard box, with legs staggering underneath, burst through the bar door. O'Dell staggered up to the bar, and placed the box on the floor. Rising above the box like a charmed snake O'Dell shuffled to the bar.

“yes Pat.”

“Aye ,yes yerself O'Dell, what's in the box.”

“Well thanks yerself fer askin, in the box is the largest mobile phone, in fact the worlds largest mobile phone. Russian you know.” said O'Dell winking

“Bejesus one mobile phone in that humungus box?” asked Doherty

“No not one phone, in the box, that would be stupid, you could never carry it. In the box is four mobile phones.”

“They must be the size of house bricks!” said Doherty

“Aye about that, and then the battery is the same size again. A bargain they are.”

“Bargain, get a way with yerself, is not a mobile phone suppose to be small and light, not the size and weight of a car battery. My Siobhan has a phone and it's no bigger than a match box and light as a feather.” said Doherty

“And whoos always complaining that his Siobhan has lost the phone, put it down somewhere and forgotten it. Well with one of these beauties you couldn't misplace it.”

“aye and no one would steal it!” said Pat trying not to laugh

“And how much did those , ---- beauties. Cost you?”asked Doherty

“Now there's the thing, they were a snitch, all for for 95 Euros, that makes them......95 divided by 4 each.”

“And how much is that O'Dell?” asked Pat trying not to laugh

“Hod on,” said O'Dell “95 divided by 4 now that will be 9 divided by 4 goes one, remember the one for me. That leaves 5, so divided by 4 goes another one, plus the 1 you was to remind me about, that's 2, tens, so that's twenty and summat.” explained O'Dell

“and the summat?” asked Doherty

“Ah yes, I remember now, he said they was 22 euros each, but as I was buying all four, I could have them for 95. That must be a saving of 5 Eros surely.”

Pat put his face in his hands and shook his head disbelievingly.

“So what are you going to do with them?” asked Doherty

“Sell them, I'm and uperature you know and the country needs uperatures.”

“What ? Asked Doherty

“He means entrepreneur.” said Pat

“That's right “ Said O'Dell “I just need to sell them to some one discerning.”

“A sucker more like.” said Doherty

“Well I had hoped to see O'Mally here tonight, give him an opportunity for profit. That is Cromwell in his normal place?”

“Aye it is, but no O'Mally.” said Pat

“I saw this film once, about a dog. A boy fell down a mine shaft, and broke his leg. He could of died, but his dog, Laddie, went and got help from the folks in the village, and they got him out.”said O'Dell.

“Lassie” said Pat

“What is?” asked O'Dell

“The name of the dog was Lassie.”

“No it was definitely a male dog.”

“That's a conundrum.”

“But it's nothing to do with family planning, I'm talking about a dog.”

“So was I.” said Pat “ They used a dog in the film, but called it Lassie.”

“What's that to do with family planning?”

“Nothing O'Dell, what you are thinking of is a condom. A conundrum, is if your parents knew about family planning, why are you here, that's a conundrum.”

O'Dell totally confused reverted to something he knew

“In the film the dog attracted the villages, because he was on his own, and he led them to the mine shaft. Do you think Cromwell is trying to alert us?”

they all looked at Cromwell sleeping with his paws either side of the empty ashtray.

“He doesn't seem keen to do anything, let alone try and find a fictitious mine shaft in Buncranna.” said Pat

“O'Mally could have had an accident, he could be lying in a ditch with his life ebbing away. Lying still and sleeping, could be Cromwell's way, of telling us something's up. Don't you think we should send out a search party?

“So you can sell him a dodgy mobile phone?” said Doherty

“Not at all he's my sham. You should always look out for your friends.”

“And sell him a dodgy phone.”

“Well what do you think Pat. Should we search for him? You must admit it is odd Cromwell without O'Mally.”

“You could call the shades, and report him missing. Do it legal and professional like.”

“We don't want to bother the Garda, we can search ourselves, can't we Doherty.”

“You don't want to call the Garda because of your dodgy phones, and you only want to find O'Mally to sell them to him.”

“Well I'm going to look for him, Its what a friend would do. You just stay in the bar and drink your drink, but it will be on your conscience, if we find him too late, because you wouldn't help.”

“Oh alright, I'll get my coat.” said Doherty.

“You'll look after my phones while I'm gone, won't you Pat.”

“Aye, be off with you then.”

“Come on Cromwell.” said O'Dell

Cromwell opened one eye, gave his, malicious do not disturb death stare, and returned to sleep.

“Well Cromwell's job is done he has summoned help. Said O'Dell leaving the bar.

Ten minutes after O'Dell and Doherty left, Cromwell rose and sauntered out of the bar.

Two hours later Doherty and O'Dell returned to the bar.

“Did you find him?” asked Pat

“Yes we did that.” said O'Dell

“Well was he stuck in a mine shaft, lying a ditch bleeding to death. Suffering hypothermia on a park bench. Or fighting off burglars in his house?”

“Well he was in his house.”said Doherty

“Oh in his house minding his own business wondering where his dog was.”

“Not quite,”said O'Dell “ he was with a woman.”

“No he wasn't,” said Doherty “he was entertaining Miriam O'Cafferty the mad cat woman. We saw them through the window, and I said let's leave them to it, But O'Dell here, wouldn't give up. He only goes and knocks on the door. We could hear O'Cafferty asking if he was expecting ruffians. O'Mally was embarrassed, didn't know whether to let us in, when Cromwell shot past us. He went straight for the kitten on O'Cafferty's lap. Swallowed it whole. O'Mally managed to get him to spit it out. It was still alive but covered in snot and slime. O'Cafferty went off on one, should have heard the language. She'll be saying Hail Mary's for a month or two. Allegedly O'Mally said he was a cat person, and didn't own a dog. He was respectable, well educated, and a lover of fine art. She must of smelt a rat looking at his hovel. She was quite willing to take him on until Cromwell burst in.”

“So Cromwell did save O'Mally in the end. Where is he?”

“He'll be down soon just feeding the ferrets.” said Doherty “That'll be him now.” hearing the bar door burst open.

Blocking the door way was Garda McPhee.

“Which of you ruffians lays claim to that box.” asked McPhee

“The mobile phones, You'll find that's me, I'm an un,, upree.. entry.”

“He thinks he is an entrepreneur.” said Pat

“Aye, one of them, that's me. Would you be wanting a mobile phone, cheap, Garda McPhee.”

“Have you read the box?” asked McPhee “can you read Russian.”

“ No but I've seen what's inside.”

“Have you now. Well if you could read Russian, it would tell you that inside is not a mobile phone but a portable missile guidance control, for use with ground forces in Syria. This box disappeared on a stop over at Shannon. The plane was diverted because of fog Europe wide. they had a choice of Prestwick or Shannon, and thought Shannon safer, with less questions. So this morning you are an entrepreneur and this evening an international arms dealer of stolen goods. You've had quite a day, a day like no other one would imagine. But I am left with a conundrum.”

“I know what that is, nothing to do with family planning, or what my dad was doing.”

“The conundrum” said McPhee “Is that this is stolen property, and there is a finders reward. So if I arrest you, no one gets a reward, but you get sent down. Do you want that?”

“No Garda McPhee.”

“So if I found it, and stopped some unknown Russian assailants getting it, then you would testify to that wouldn't you.”

“Yes sir Garda McPhee, I'll testify to what every thing you say”

“Good O'Dell, I believe you are out of pocket some 95 euros, is that correct?”

“yes Garda.”

“So when I get the reward you will get 95 euros, is that clear?”

“yes Garda,”

“Good day gentlemen, I'll leave you to your drinking.” said McPhee heading for the door.

A large unkempt Irish wolfhound pushed through the pub doors. Pat looked up expecting the owner, but he didn't appear.

“Isn't that O'Mally's dog.” asked Mcphee

They all shook their heads.

tales from the long bar- a Bad loser

“Is that yerself O'Mally. Porter is it?”

Aye Pat and make it a double X, I have a need, I'm thinking.”

“And Cromwell?”

“He's fine, he has his new soockie blanket, his prize.”

“So what's that in Cromwell's mouth?” asked Pat

“Just an old rag.”

“Beejesus O'Mally.” said Doherty “Your mutt has a taste for cavalry twill, where on earth did you get that. You can't afford cavalry twill!”

“Well Mr.Smartarse he picked it himself.”

“Oh is that so, you have a discerning mutt.” said Doherty

“And if it's anything to do with you Doherty, Cromwell is a pedigree Irish Wolf hound.

Pat coughed and choked on his porter.

“You may laugh but Cromwell has been in a dog show.”

Yer don't say.”said Doherty

“He has that, a dog show for pedigrees.”

Yer don't say.” said Doherty

“Did I tell you that Cromwell can trace his mother way back to Packfield mistletoe, From the McLeeve stud.”

“Aye and his father back to the Rottweiler next door.” said Doherty

“That's not true you're just jealous that I have a thorough bred dog.”

Pat spluttered and choked

“Stop it O'Mally, you'll have Pat in hospital with your bragging.”

“I'm not bragging.”

“Y'are”

“Not”

“Y'are”

“Hold it you two” said Pat “Let O'Mally prove he's been to a dog show.”

“Yer go on O'Mally prove it.” said Doherty

“We've been to Muff if you must know, To the Donegal District Dog show.”

“Ooo yer don't say, Muff has a dog show. What would you be doin goin to Muff. I thought you couldn't go to Muff because of all the bills you owes.”

“Aye well I was payin one.”

“You just volunteered to pay a bill did you O'Mally.” said Doherty

“Aye, they just sent me a letter so I decided to pay their bill, all heart that's me.”

“A solicitors letter?”

“Might have been, Anyway, on the way to the bus stop I sees the poster for the dog show. Hundred Euros for the winner of the Irish Wolf hound class, entry free. So I put Cromwell in, and he won.”

“Cromwell won first prize?”

“No the one above.”

“What's above first O'Mally?”Asked Pat

“Cardinal distinction. Not your priest or lay preacher, but Cardinal distinction. That will be the one below Pope to yoos” Said O'Mally

the bar door burst open.

“Hey Pat did you see the evening Echo, that eejit O'Mally's in the paper.” said O'Dell “ Oh sorry didn't see you there Shamus.”

“O'Dell.”said O'Mally sheepish

“Well lets see what the echo says about our local hero.” Said Doherty snatching the paper off O'Dell.

“Listen to this.” said Doherty laughing “ The annual Donegal District Dog show was held in Muff this year due to flooding at all other sites. A rare honour for the town. Blah, de, blah, about the classes, and here Irish wolf hound class, seven entries, O'Mally Cardinal disqualification. Then it goes on to list the winners down to sixth place. Which means O'Mally was eighth in a seven dog contest. Cardinal Distinction, huh.”

“Well I thought he said Distinction, I must of miss heard the Disqualification bit.”

“Aye proper disqualification the one below Pope.” laughed Doherty

“Why was you disqualified, what does it say in the paper Doherty?” said Pat

“Nuttin really, it says here a contestant Shamus O'Mally was disqualified for not controlling his dog Crimnal. That's more like it, they misspelt Cromwell and it sounds like criminal, which they obviously thought he was.”said Doherty “But no mention what he did. The judging was delayed while the judge received treatment and changed his clothes.

“So what happened O'Mally? The truth now, for a change.”said Pat

“Well,” said O'Mally “I saw the poster for the dog show and thought I'd enter, as it cost nuttin. They don't do all the judging at the same time you has to wait your turn. So I takes a look at one of the other classes. Have you seen a dog show?”

“Why would I?” said Pat “get on with the explanation.”

“Well all the contestants are posh. They have clean shoes, and polished. The trousers are pressed and they wear a white, ice cream man's coats. The dogs have all been cleaned and combed. They smell like the escaped from Boots, all lavender and carbolic. Each dog has a collar and a posh lead.”

“What's a lead?” asked O'dell

“Similar to baler twine, but with a hook at the end. Some of the leads were leather. Leather ,on a dog for goodness sake! Well Cromwell hasn't been bathed or combed and we only use baler twine. So I thought I'd best get a lead.”

“You bought a lead?”asked Doherty

“Course not, I nicked one from a dog not in need.”

“Sounds like all dogs need leads at a show.”Said Doherty

“Ah this dog didn't need one 'cos it was in a basket, and being carried by a lady.”

“I thought I told you, tell the truth.”said Pat

“Tis the truth the owners have small dogs in baskets and carry them around in luxury.”

They shook their heads and took a sip of Porter in disbelief.

“So I ties the baler twine round Cromwell's neck , attach the leather lead to it ,and pulls him round by the lead, but he is not best pleased.

“So I finds the wolfhound event, enters me name and pulls Cromwell into the show ring. Would you believe I'm the only one wearing rigger boots and oil skins, every one else is dressed up like health inspectors. The judge tells us to sit the dogs. Cromwell was already lying down trying to get some sleep. Best not to wake him. The judge comes over and tells me to sit my dog, in a not pleasant way, so Cromwell sits up ready to pounce. Then the judge says walk your dog. Well Cromwell has had his walk for the day thanks very much. The judge is by now shouting at me. So Cromwell is up and ready. He is looking at the judge like the judge just pinched his bone, but I manage to drag him away. Then Cromwell spots a corgi just like your misses dog, and he goes over for a chat like. The corgi takes off in fear, and Cromwell takes off after it, thinking it's a game.

We don't get back in the ring for ten minutes or so.

Well the judge has a face like a smacked cat. He comes over to inspect Cromwell's conformation, what ever that is. He runs his hand down Cromwell's back then says lift his leg. Cromwell is ahead of the game, he has already lifted his back leg, and soaked the judges shoes. Then the judge says open your dogs mouth. What an eejit. So he says again open your dogs mouth I want to see his teeth. Then the eejit grabs Cromwell's muzzle and tries to open his mouth. Next I see is a hand in Cromwell's mouth, loads of blood and the judge takes off in fear. So Cromwell takes off after him and takes out the seat of his pants, which he hasn't let go of yet. The judge goes into hiding in the show committee caravan. I drag Cromwell away, and the steward says I've been distinguished for a cardinal rule. Wolf hounds are suppose to be feisty and brave, so I thought it was legit. Then I see the Garda talking to the owner of my new lead , so we take off, away from the dog show.

We tried to get on a bus but with Cromwell holding the arse of the the judges pants and a jaw full of blood, the bus driver won't let me on, unless Cromwell is muzzled. So we had to walk all the way home.”

“Didn't you think that letting Cromwell play with the judge was a bit cruel, Cromwell can be a bad Loser?” said Pat

“My Crommy cruel, who could think ill of him, just look at him does he look like a cruel bad loser?”

They turned to look directly into the eyes of Cromwell, a dog straight from hell and on a mission.

Tales from the long bar - the invisible man

Cromwell the large Irish wolfhound entered the bar and took up his normal spot under the table by the door. He looked directly at Pat with a contemptible death stare.

Shortly afterwards O'Mally and O'Dell came into the bar in deep conversation.

“Cromwell wants his porter, what can I get you two?” said Pat

“No let me get these.” said Doherty.

O'Mally and O'Dell looked about confused

“What's the matter O'Dell can you not see me?” said Doherty

“might do.”

“and what does that mean, can you, or can't you, see me.”

“what's it to you?”

“Well, its my eejit cloak,” said Doherty “brand new, beautiful colour, very light, and completely covers you. Every one except an eejit can see you. To eejits I'm invisible. So can you see me O'Dell?”

“What's not to see Doherty, you can't catch me out.”

“It's a fine colour that cloak.” said O'Mally “what would you call that colour Pat?”

“What's that colour called,” Said Pat “between blue and green?”

“Black.” said O'Dell

“Black is not between blue and green. Where's the blue and green in black?”

“I was at school, and we did drawing and stuff.” Said O'Dell “I remember we had plasticine, all different colours it was. When you mixed them up it turned brown. Now here's the thing, if you add some blue and green to the brown, it turns a blackish colour. But we didn't have much blue and green, so if I'd have gone to a posh school, with loads of plasticine, I could have made black.”

“To be sure, is that not a waste to education, there would be no end of inventions if O'Dell here had enough plasticine,”said Pat.”here give the ashtray of porter to Cromwell before he takes me leg off. O'Mally”

“Here Cromie, daddies not forgot yer. Porter in your favourite ashtray. Will you stop looking out the window and drink yer drink that's a good dog.”

“You know this invisibility malarkey you been doonin Doherty. Well I saw this film about a man that was invisible. It didn't end too well for him.”

“How come you always see a film and never read a book O'Dell.” said Pat

“Well to tell the truth I was never any good at the reading thing. The Nuns at the convent school tried to teach you what you were best at. They thought I was better at arithmetic than reading.” said O'Dell.

“I thought you was rubbish at sums.”Said O'Mally

“I am but I am more rubbish at reading, never took to it like.”

“Have you read a book all the way through?” asked Pat “There's some wonderful books out there, and some they made into films. Like the Invisible man, that was a book.”

“don't be daft,”said Odell “It was a full series, it was on the TV for years, if it was in a book it would be thicker the an alter bible. You'd never be able to pick it up.”

“Books can come in instalments you know.” said Pat

“No can't be bothered with loans, be a lender nor a borrower be.”

“I give up” said Pat “I bet you never read a book in your life”

“I did so.”

“Bet you didn't.” said O'Mally

“Did so.”

“Didn't”

“Did so, in fact I still have it in the house, somewhere.”

Well I've never seen a book in your house.”

“Well you never had a search warrant O'Mally. But I do have a book , put away with the other things that might come in handy.”

“Can you remember what it was called.” asked Pat

“I think so, the Nuns gave it to me, it was home work, but I never gave it back.”said O'Dell winking “It wasn't a very good book, which is why I never really took to reading.”

“poor plot, that normally puts people off.” said O'Mally

“Or in O'Dell's case it could be a complicated plot.” said Doherty

“So what was it called.” asked Pat

“Janet and John on the Farm.” said O'Dell

“Is that it the sum total of your literary experience, one Janet and John book.”said Pat

“Of course not, we did Janet and John goes shopping, in school.”

“Well books have moved on since then, you'd be surprised what you can learn from a book.”said Pat

“The nuns said that, about the bible, all you need to know was in that book. But I only learnt two things.”

“And what were they.” asked O'Mally

“The book was heavy, and hurt when they hit you round the head with it.”

spluttering in their drinks O'Mally thought he would change the subject.

“Cromwell is very interested in the window. Do you think you could be getting burglars.” said O'Mally.

“That's a job you you Doherty, being invisible you could check if no one was out side. You could always put your bandages back on, when you come back.”

“What bandages” asked Doherty

Round your head, I've seen the film man, it's what invisible people have to do. We could always go to Hanagans for more bandages if need be.”

“But Hanagans is for veterinary supplies.” said O'Mally

“Well they bandage horses and you need loads of bandages for horses. If you look in a human's first aid box, the bandages are far too wee, not fit to splint a slug. To bandage Doherty from head to foot you need loads.”

“You eejit” said O'Mally “Yur man is not invisible just his cloak. So when he takes it off he will be normal and able to be seen. Is that not right Doherty.”

“Feckin eejit.”said Doherty

after few minutes of the door opened and Doherty entered.

“Well was it burglars.” said O'Dell, “You know I was worried, that if you put your cloak down, you would not be able to find it again, and such a handy thing to have and invisible cloak.”

“There was no cloak,” said Doherty waving a radio baby alarm handset. “I was having you on.”

“I just realized,” said O'Dell “Yoos all thought I was daft. But see Doherty's fishing smock is black just as I said.”

“You never said Doherty was wearing a black smock.” said O'Mally

“No, I said the colour between blue and green was black, and Doherty is wearing a black smock just as I said. No flies on me you know.”

“What” said Pat

“Doherty has three smocks Blue, Green, and Black, so he was wearing the green one the week last, and the blue one last week, so he must have been wearing Black as I said.”

“Is anyone following this,” said Pat

“Well you surprise me O'Dell I never put you down for a man of fashion.” said Doherty

“I'm not, I have a Birthday in June, so don't need to be.”

“No, you lost me there.” said Pat

“Look Pat I have five sisters. So come Christmas they buy sweaters and stuff for the winter, at the market. They know what is in fashion, so don't want to be thought of as, not in touch, therefore I get the latest fashion in all sorts of stuff. With a Birthday in June I also get a summer wardrobe. With sisters you don't need to buy any clothes yourself, Birthday and Santa Claus provide it all.”

“You could be right there O'Dell I have a birthday in November and have a skip load of sweaters.” said Pat

“So what have you done with the cloak?” asked O'Dell

“It was a joke, there was no cloak. I used these baby radio monitors, one on the bar and one I had with me outside the window. Cromwell nearly gave the game away. I'm sure that dog is smarter than the lot of you.”

“Well I think Pat is clever, its not nice saying Pat is thick. When he's not.” said O'Dell

“Eejit, Pat was in on it.” said Doherty

“So it was the baby radio that made you invisible, I wonder how that works.” Said O'Dell

Cromwell covered his eyes with his paw and pretended to be asleep.

Pat said “ must be time for another round.” hoping to take their mind of the present conversation. With luck a barrel would need changing and he too could disappear, if not become invisible

tales from the long bar- the package

O'Malley was sweating, he was sure the package in his bag was doing the same. The words of Magill ringing in his ears, don't let it get too hot, or too cold, and keep away from vibrations. Most of all keep it level at all times. How can you do that at sea on the Cairnryan ferry? He went up on deck in the chill September evening, with a stiff breeze blowing over the bow, and found a seat at the stern. Around him were the seasick and the pretending well, jovial at the bounce of the wave. O'Malley was petrified.

Why had he mentioned he was going to England to O'Rourke? Surely he was not just showing off. The O'Malley's on the up, Brother John with a good job, not just labouring. There's John, living in a council house in Surrey. Would you believe Surrey, sounded posh. Surrey even had a cricket team, not that O'Malley followed cricket. Now here he was with some device wrapped in Oiled paper tied with string, on the deck, between his legs, in a rolling sea. If he said one Hail Mary he'd said a thousand, but still no deliverance.

It was O'Rourke that told Cargill he was sure of that. Cargill was an odd fish. Kept himself to himself. Cargill always had loads of money, paid in cash, few friends but he was always on the phone or at meetings. O'Malley thought he would shop him one day, but then he might get an invitation and that would mean the end of walking and no kneecaps.

“Could you collect and deliver a package for me to England” smiled Cargill. O'Malley knew that NO was not the answer.

“Be a pleasure. but money's short can't afford to go out of the way.”

“Not a problem.” Said Cargill handing O'Malley a crisp new five pound note.

O'Malley had read the papers, He knew the Ulster Bank at Portrush had been robbed and new bank notes stolen. This crisp new five pound note was bound to be one of them.

“Oh thanks” said O'Malley. “What's this for?”

“Taxi” smiled Cargill. “I want you to collect a package from this address on Creggan Heights and deliver it to Mr Joyce at Cairnryan, nothing more than that.”

“And how will I know Mr Joyce?”

“He will be looking for you, if some one approaches ask him how he likes Dubliners. He will say not quite an odyssey.”

“Not quite an odyssey” replied O'Malley “Not quite an odyssey, fine.”

O'Malley had taken the taxi but paid him with an old note. The crisp new note was hidden in his wallet only to be used in an emergency. He did not want to be arrested for passing stolen money, or Jesus forbid counterfeit.

Magill answered the door, not a well man.

“I've come for a package.” said O'Malley

Magill looked past him staring into the gloom. O'Malley though he was checking if he had been followed.

“Come in I'm just finishing the wrapping.” said Magill

The room was cold, a package of what looked like plastic was being wrapped in oiled paper.

“Sorry about the wrapping, but oiled paper keeps it dry, we don't want the insides damp do we?” chuckled Magill

“Spose not” said O'alley

“This is one of my better surprises, quite proud if it. It should cause quite a stir.” smiled Magill

O'Malley swallowed, and could feel his hands tremble. What was he to do?

O'Malley just took the parcel home, no questions, just did as he was told.

At the time it seemed the safest thing to do.

The ferry struck a vast wave and the whole ship shuddered. O'Malley touched the bag for reassurance. It was still there, the package. It was not a horrible dream. It was happening, he was on a ferry with a package between his legs and although he had a chance to notify the authorities he had done nothing. He was outside the law. A criminal doing the work of some splinter group or worse. He was bound to be on CCTV somewhere. Some one was bound to have seen him, they could even be following right now. He looked around him feeling guilty and vulnerable. The young fresh looking man looked back at him. The man was smartly dressed if a bit somber, easier to blend into the background. The man was quite athletic looking, possibly armed forces, or SAS. Merciful heavens O'Malley said to himself not an SAS assassin. The man turned away and walked below. O'Malley wasn't fooled the man would pass him to another, someone less conspicuous. O'Malley looked around for some one less conspicuous, and realised the whole boat was full of them.

The ferry berthed. O'Malley ever cautions did not disembark. He stood on the upper deck watching humanities stabilised stomachs sway to a movement not present on dry land. Lines of drunken people streamed into the distance of Scotland's terminal buildings. Whom would be waiting for O'Malley he thought, the mysterious Joyce, or an SAS assassin. He thought about throwing the bag overboard, but realised Joyce would be harder to avoid than the anti terrorist squad. He picked up his bag. He thought he could hear it ticking as he made his way to the gangway. He looked about him to see if anyone was waiting for him. The terminal was deserted, the cars rhythmically bumping over the boarding ramp and heading off to the sanctuary of Scotland. All the passengers had disembarked and filled up the buses for Stranraer, Ayr and Glasgow. He could see no Mister Joyce. He had a feeling of relief. He could just get on the bus for the nearest railway station and leave the package in the railway toilets. If Joyce was not there it was not his fault.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see one of the dockers.

“Is that yerself?” he asked

“Do you like folk music?” blurted out O'Malley “Not the Chieftains the other fellers.”

“Is it the Dubliners you like?” asked the docker

“For goodness sake that's my line you eejit.” snapped O'Malley

“It might well be but I'm not Joyce, he asked me to meet you as I worked here. Do you have the package?”

“I might have a package, and then again I might not it depends who's askin.”

“You O'Malley then?”

“I might be, who's asking?”

“Have you got the package or haven't you?”

O'Malley looked at this scruffy man. He did not look like a hireling of the IRA, but then you never can tell. The two men stared at each other, just like in the western films, who was going to blink first.

“For goodness sake I'm Dillon, Joyce asked me to meet O'Malley to collect an important package. And you sunshine are the only person left on the terminal with a bag. So is you O'Malley or not?”

“Aye, I is O'Malley.”

“Good lets have a look at the package?”

“What here on the terminal?”

“And why not?”

O'Malley thought, big open space if any thing goes wrong only two injured or killed. The IRA are clever ruthless bastards.

O'Malley bent down and unzipped his bag and gently lifted the package out. Dillon took it gleefully and started to unwrap it. O'Malley could feel unreasonable panic beginning. Dillon had the wrapping off so fast O'Malley couldn't stop him. He prized open the plastic container, and stood in awe.

“Bejesus he said it would be good but this is brilliant is it not O'Malley”

“I never saw inside the package, I don't know what it is.”

Dillon turned the package round to expose the decorative cake with Irish dance figures made of icing, all dancing in line just like Riverdance.

“Oh yes he'll like that.” said Dillon

“Who?” asked O'Malley

“Wee Jimmy, Mister Cargill's nephew, He is in the finals of the National Irish dancing competition at the Exhibition Hall Birmingham. Are you going to Birmingham?”

“Surrey.”

“Well I'll give you a lift to Carlisle if you like you can get a train from there.”

“Thanks” said O'Malley

“You know O'Malley you're a trusting sort, most people wouldn't take a package without knowing what was inside.”

Independence

Recently released from hospital I value my independence, even though, at the moment, I most certainly am not independent. Independence is the second most precious thing we possess and like Principals, the most precious, almost unaffordable. So what is this expensive thing called independence?

It is the ability to give freely, energy, time, money, compassion, charity and love without being dependent on a return. If you do not have a home, food security, or power. You can not be independent and must rely on an abundance of independent folk in your locality. Many settle for semi independence, where they give something and receive a return. This is trade. I am reminded we are now an independent country! Yet we do not produce enough food to feed our population. With an abundance of tide, wind, and sun, we do not harvest power from these because they are hard to tax. We would prefer to dig up the ground and pollute the planet into a waste ground for financial security. “Our North sea oil” is harvested and traded in American Dollars not pounds. Our ability to trade is measured against the Dollar and the Euro. Our independent nuclear deterrent is controlled by American, our security underpinned by the USA and NATO. We import food from third world countries and pay for it with devalued pounds. We do not have affordable houses for our working population, but encourage rich individuals from corrupt countries to invest in over inflated property. Those that want to come here to work and support our country we call immigrants and make them feel unwelcome. As I am, at the moment, in need of support and far from independent, Britain too is need of support. In weeks I hope to be able to give freely again. The question is will Britain?

Being British

The easiest way to prove you are British is with a Passport. To obtain a passport requires patience. Patience is the art of being British.


HOW TO APPLY FOR A PASSPORT


A form can be obtained from your local passport office. (LOCAL), is a term used by the Passport office to mean a facility or building up to 120 miles from your home. Nearby denotes a facility from 250 to 600 miles i.e. Inverness is nearby London. Most big cities will have a passport office, so if you live outside London the passport office is nearby i.e. London. Although London is well served with an office, city dwellers don't need to use it, as a cheapish passport can be obtained from most street vendors, in what ever name you are currently using.

ON LINE You can go online to obtain a form and fill in the details. Most form applications cost around £300.00 from the search engine top hits. If you press next to around page 64 you will find the UK Government passport application page. It is free to apply for a form but the passport will obviously cost, and not just time. The government web page should only crash half a dozen times during your time on line but could be more during busy periods i.e. daylight hours 365 days a year. Frustrated with the online experience and with a new Nigerian General as a friend, you could try the post office.




APPLICATION THROUGH THE POST OFFICE


The Post Office supplies a local service to its customers. A local post office can normally be reached within a return distance of 50 miles. Not all Post offices are equipped to handle passport applications but all have the application forms. The forms are not available in a convenient rack where any toe rag can access them. You have to prove you are serious in wanting an application, which can only be accessed through one of the counter staff. The counter staff are protected from the public by a grill there is a space below to slide money under. Money, is not small change, but notes. To ensure the cashier can receive them correctly they should be pushed through one at a time the grill is too low for a finger to fit under, so great care must be taken. To ensure you can complete this manoeuvre to a satisfactory standard you can practice page feeding a Hewlett Packard printer, the frustration achieved, can be vented in the comfort of your own home, not at the Post Office counter.


PROOF OF IDENTITY A passport proves you are you. It will have a photograph of you in it. So you need to get a passport photograph. A passport photograph can be obtain from a handy coin operated kiosk normally situated in a local large supermarket or shopping arcade. The large supermarket is known as local if it located within an eighty mile return journey. The term convenient (which it obviously isn't) is for a supermarket in excess of an eighty mile return trip. You can not pre-book the photograph kiosk so have to make the journey on the off chance that it is working, switched on, and not in use as an illegal drugs dispensary by the resident collectors of Anti Social Behaviour Orders. On that extremely rare occasion that you do get to use the kiosk for the purpose intended, you must not smile. This should not be difficult, as until now you would have have nothing to smile about. Wearing somber clothing and not smiling you should look like a police photo-fit picture on the police most wanted list. On the plus side people that know you would never recognise you from the picture, However you have to persuade them that Al Capone, is really you, and they should sign the photograph stating it is a true likeness, or they will wake in the morning, with the severed head of their favourite pet.


THE RETURNED PASSPORT


if you have completed the procedure correctly, submitted the appropriate forms in good time your passport should arrive by post a few weeks after the planned flight. On rare occasions it will arrive prior to your intended journey, by minutes. Being totally stressed out, when starting your holiday, means that nothing further on the holiday can upset you. Staying next to a building site or staying the same week as two stag parties and four hen nights will be we within your updated comfort zone.


There are of course forgeries, but you can always tell a true Brit. They will be the ones with a black expired UK passport. Being British they can not be bothered with the replacement procedure. They will not be able to travel abroad, but are content to soak up the fleeting sun on Cambois beach in waterproof clothing. Although still in the UK they will have the British tea bag in an inside pocket or handbag. That is truly being British!