Monday, 25 June 2018

Tears for a Butcher


Yes this was 19years ago. If I did get a speed typist I would dictate the rest of Tears for a Butcher, which is the follow on to The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker
as you can see below I was going to call it A Nation of Shopkeepers, that's how Napoleon belittled England, and look what happened to him. I had a stab attack of pain tonight, where it feels like I'm being stabbed and i SCREAM, that's why no new story today, it was too hot too.
It does remind you of your own mortality, I was so exhausted I had to nap for 2 hours. It also reminds you not to waste time on rubbish. So is all the writing rubbish?  Answers on a Postcard to Donald Trump or Vlad Putin, they are my biggest fans. By the way if you go to my wordpress site this post has full translations attached of The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker.
 RT does  not want me to do the Storytelling Slot on their stations, I did offer. I'd "corrupt" their viewers. Too surreal no doubt. Maybe I'll offer my 2000 short stories as Radio Fillers to the BBC instead or Voice of America, if it still exists.

Its hard to break into the Media, perhaps only North Korea would give me a chance, do you think they read Talking to Doris yesterday?

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC

 feel free to buy all 16 books, though I know you won't because internet is free, you have no shame,

I'll go and cry now.



          jul99



                A Nation Of Shopkeepers Book Two
                ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

                      Tears For a Butcher  ©

                            by


                      Michael   Casey



            Chapter One ...Mrs Murphy to the Rescue
          ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ


         The next day found the street nursing a collective hangover , Mrs

Murphy  being  the sole sober person .  It was her soul and  that  of  her
  
infant  grandchild which concerned her ,  so as usual she had got  up  and
  
said  her  three rosaries before going to early Mass .  In  the  afternoon
  
little  Shiela was to be Christened so Mrs Murphy at least was getting  in
  
the right frame of mind .  Mrs Murphy did stop to light a candle in  front
  
of Saint Anthony as thanks for help in finding Jaswinda , after all wasn't
  
he  the  saint  in charge of lost things and  you  might  call  Jaswinda's
  
kidnapping a form of being lost ,  lost from her parents and friends  that
  
is  .  Fr Shaw had privately offered the Mass up in thanks for  Jaswinda's
   
safe return ,  even he had felt humbled by Mrs Murphy's faith in God .  He
  
had noticed the lit candle by Saint Anthony's statue and the nod and smile
  
Mrs Murphy had given to a poster of Mother Theresa of Calcutta . So united
  
in prayer the Mass was celebrated .


  
         When the Mass  was over and Fr.  Shaw had taken the vestments off
  
he walked down the side isle and sat on the bench in front of Mrs Murphy ,
  
leaning back he spoke to her .

 "Well that was quite a night .  I didn't have as much fun since the  last
  
ordination I was at " , he said with a smile .

 "It was grand , I'll agree with you there , BUT you do know that the food
  
we were "ateing" was for Shiela's Christening do " , replied Mrs Murphy as
  
she heaved her bussom indignantly .

 "You don't begrudge Jaswinda and her family that do you ?" asked Fr. Shaw

trying not to smile .

"I do not  , I enjoyed myself too ! It's just that Patrick doesn't seem to
  
do anything in the right order .  I mean he fathered a child before he got
  
married  ,  now  he eats the food before the Christening "  ,  sighed  Mrs
  
Murphy .

"You don't mind being a grannie ,  I mean some women feel that they've got
  
one foot in the grave now that they are  grandmothers " ,  said  Fr.  Shaw
  
teasingly .

"I do NOT , now that's the best thing Patrick  ever did , and June is such
  
a nice girl . It was almost the will of God them meeting  , fancy it being
  
her  father  who lent us that money all them years ago .  Now we  are  one
  
happy  family ,  APART from that mother of hers .  I just hope I'm  spared
  
long   enough to see all my grandchildren grow up ,  I wouldn't  want  the
  
"English Grandmother" to influence them too much  " ,  she rolled her eyes
  
at the thought .

          Fr Shaw smiled broadly and tossed his head back ,  stiffling his
  
laughter out of respect .  Mrs Murphy smiled too , noticing for the  first
  
time the small piece of paper stuck to Fr. Shaw's neck, she'd have a laugh
  
at him too as well as herself .

"Is  the work getting too much for you Father  ,  not trying to  cut  your
  
throat are you " pulling the piece of paper from his throat and holding it
  
in front of him .

"Get  away out of that ,  besides the Samaritans are ex  directory  around
  
here" he replied .

"Well I'd better go home for some breakfast ,  I'll see you this afternoon
  
with the "Pagan Grandparents" for the Christening " said Mrs Murphy as she
  
gathered herself and her handbag up .

"You  could always try converting them ,I mean their daughter is  Catholic
  
now " , said a deadpan Fr.Shaw .

"And how do I go about that " said Mrs Murphy as she put her gloves on .

"Well  we don't have a statue like we have one of St.Anthony nor a poster
  
like the one of Mother Theresa " , Fr.Shaw paused, he could see Mrs Murphy
  
blush , she was embarrassed by her shows of faith .

"Don't  you dare tell anybody " whispered Mrs Murphy as she fidgeted  with
  
her bag .

"Anyway " said  Fr.Shaw diplomatically " haven't you heard of St.  Jude  ,
  
she likes a challenge , perhaps the "Pagan Grandparents" would be right up
  
her street " a smile on his lips .

"St.Jude would be ringing the Samaritans then " was Mrs Murphy's reply as
  
she  nodded  towards  the altar and headed down the isle and  out  of  the
  
church .

"Lord grant me faith " , said Fr.Shaw . Then he smiled, he knew the saints
  
would soon be bombarded with conversion prayers .

         In the afternoon Mrs Murphy ,  Patrick and June and  baby  Shiela
  
arrived  for  the  christening .  The "English  Grandparents"  were  there
  
too ,  that's to say June's parents Mr and Mrs Kemp . Mrs Kemp was dressed
  
to  the nines ,  with a big hat on her head and matching long gloves  .Big
  
Sid  ,  Mark and Gillian ,  Percy and Sgt Mulholland and Mathew were  also
  
there , along with Amjit , Balbinda and Jaswinder of course .
  
  "The Lord Save Us ,  if it isn't The Duchess of York Herself"  whispered
  
Mrs Murphy as she walked up the side isle to the baptismal font . June had
  
to  look down at the baby and pretend to wipe its nose to save  collapsing
  
into  giggles  .  Patrick  just bit his lip ,  the  pain  would  stop  him
  
laughing.

  "I'll  just go and say hello to "Annette" " ,  said  Mrs  Murphy  before
  
striding over towards Mrs Kemp .

 "She's up to something " , whispered Patrick .

 "I know , but what ? " answered June from behind her hand .

  After a few moments they found out what .  For Mrs Murphy  returned  all
  
smiles ,  giving a knowing wink to Patrick and June ,  well that's how  it
  
seemed  but in fact the wink was for the baby Jesus in the  Virgin  Mary's
  
arms .

 "You know you were going to call the baby Shiela ,  then have Annette  as
  
the middle name ,  after your mother over there " said a surprizingly  coy
  
Mrs Murphy .

 "Yes , we decided that months ago ," answered a suspicious June .

"Well  "Annette" agrees with me it would be better if the middle  name  be
  
different ,  I mean  Shiela Annette Murphy is a grand name , but the child
  
might  think one grandmother is better than another ,  what with her  name
  
coming  second  and  that .  Now we don't want  favouritism  do  we  .  So
  
"Annette" thought that you could save her name for the next  granddaughter
  
,  which won't be long in coming ,  as you are such a loving couple  after
  
all " continued Mrs Murphy .

  Patrick blushed at this point ,  June just twinkled ,  Mrs Murphy was  a
  
terror  to  be  sure ,  but it felt alright ,  well as  far  as  June  was
  
concerned . Mrs Kemp saw Patrick blush and whispered to her husband .

"I bet she's talking about the next doxen grandchildren ,  and in a church
  
too  .  Well  at  least one will be called "Annette"  ,  and  NOT  "Shiela
  
Annette" , she consoled herself with that thought .

 "So what will the middle name be then ?" enquired a still red Patrick .

 "Jude , of course , " replied Mrs Murphy .

 "Jude , of course , " echoed June while pulling a face at Patrick .

 "But she's the patron saint of " started Patrick .

 "Hopeless causes ,  " finished June , who had recently finished a book on
  
the lives of the saints .

  "Well  it nice to see you're becoming a good Catholic  ,  "  smiled  Mrs
  
Murphy beaming with pride .

 "Us  converts can teach you old ones a thing or two , " smiled June .

"But why  Jude , mom ?" asked a puzzled Patrick .

"Well  its  a nice name ,  isn't it ?  " she  replied  defensively  before
  
walking towards Fr. Shaw who had emerged from the presbytery .

"What's she up to ? " said Patrick thinking aloud .

"Well  you are a bit of a hopeless cause ,  or so my mother says "  jested
  
June .

Fr.  Shaw smiled when he heard what Mrs Murphy had to say ,  looking  over
  
towards Mr and Mrs Kemp .

"Did  you  see  that ?  Fr.Shaw looked at mom and smiled  ,  and  he  said
  
something too . It looked like" started already" . "

"I didn't know you were a lip reader . I'll have to watch out when I swear
  
at you in future " replied Patrick .

"Well  only  a bit ,  but what has she" started already"  ?  "  continued  a
  
an intrigued June .
  
"We  can  ask her afterwards ,  " was Patrick's reply ,  as he  could  see
  
Fr.Shaw was coughing and opening his prayer book , a sure sign that Shiela
  
was about to be baptised .

          So with family and friends looking on ,  Shiela Jude Murphy  was
  
baptised ,  Sgt.  Mulholland and Mathew being her Godparents .  Mrs  Kemp
  
rolled  her  eyes at the sight ,  to her it seemed like two  "King  Kongs"
  
standing over a small bundle ,  which was baby Shiela .  Mrs Murphy  would
  
later explain how only Catholics could be Godparents for Catholic babies .

Baby Shiela stayed asleep during the service ,  even when drenched  ,  for
  
Fr.  Shaw a baptism meant water and lots of it ,  no dabbing for him . Yet
  
the baby slept through it ,  June had taken a tip from Mrs Murphy , namely
  
a  thimblefull of Irish Whisky in the baby's milk half an hour before  the
  
baptism .   
  
           Back at Mark's cafe  the baby's health was toasted ,  Mark  and
  
Gillian  having stayed up late to remake the eaten buffet .  Jaswinda  was
  
looking at her future playmate , and trying to work out when little Shiela
  
would be bigger Shiela , or big enough to play at any rate . Outside Amjit
  
was pacing up and down the pavement in front of the cafe and barking ,  he
  
wanted to be let inside the cafe .

"What  on  earth's that savage dog trying to do ?  " said an  alarmed  Mrs
  
Kemp.

"He's  only  saying  congradulations ,  that's all  ,  "  said  a  totally
  
unperturbed Mrs Murphy .  Who then went to the counter to return with  the
  
scraps .

"Jaswinder  ,  do  you want to feed little Amjit ?  " asked Mrs  Murphy  ,
  
holding the plate out so Jaswinder could reach .

"Yes , please , " Jaswinder replied then with a hop and a skip , her one

 pigtail bobbing she dashed out to feed Amjit .

"Is it safe , he might harm her ! " said an alarmed Mrs Kemp .

"I don't think so ," said a smiling Mrs Murphy .
  
          After  an hour of festivities ,  the people  began to disperse ,
  
Mrs Kemp was about to leave herself ,  when she leaned over conspiratorily
  
and with a glance at Patrick whispered to Mrs Murphy .

"Shiela , it's Patrick's birthday next month and I was thinking of getting
  
him a nice watch , as I noticed his old one is a bit worn out . "

"More like ,  knackered , I'm forever telling him to take it off when he's
  
humping  big loads of flour and the like ,  but will he listen to me  ?  "
  
,replied Mrs Murphy shaking her head .

 "Quite ,  but he's changed since  he's married  MY June ,  so if I was to
  
buy him a nice watch then perhaps he'll take care of it ?  " said Mrs Kemp
  
trying not to sound condescending , but failing as usual .

"Oh ,  to be sure , he's a real man , now that he's married to YOUR June ,
  
but  then  isn't he the image of his father ,  MY dead husband  in  heaven
  
who's  no  doubt having a drink with the angels to  celebrate  his  first
  
grandchild's baptism into THE CHURCH .  " ,  smiled back Mrs Murphy as  if
  
butter would not melt in her mouth , while glancing over with pride at her
  
own earthly holy family , namely her Patrick and June and baby Shiela .    
  
"Well ,  you do agree with me he needs a new watch ,  I mean we don't want
  
to end up buying him the same thing do we ?" ,  said Mrs Kemo  ,  flashing
  
her best smile .

"Yes ,  you are quite right "Annette" ,  and can you tell me where you got
  
those luvly false teeth from ? They are grand altogether , or did you just
  
soak them for a week in Domestos ? " , replied Mrs Murphy the butter still
  
not melting in her mouth .

Mr Kemp came to the rescue , and ushered his wife out of the cafe , giving
  
a wink to Mrs Murphy ,  behind his wife's back of course ,  he had a sense
  
of humour after all , but he was not totally stupid  though .
  
"I just hope  she gets him a stretch strap ,  otherwise he won't wear  the
  
thing .  Mind you the watch he's got now isn't too bad ,  he's  superglued
  
the glass back in , it could last a while longer . " mumbled Mrs Murphy as
  
she watched the Pagan Grandparents go .

"What's  this  about a stretch strap ?  " asked June as  she  placed  baby
  
Shiela in grandma Shiela's arms .

"Annette ,wants to buy your husband a watch for his birthday next month ."

"He  could do with one ,  he told me those Russian one's seem to last  him
  
the  longest ,  the sweat gets in the others he's tried over the  years  .
  
Besides the one he's got now has a horrid picure in green of a man playing
  
a lute , the man looks as if he's just came out of a concentration camp !"

"I've  seen  that ,  it could frighten little Shiela here  when  she  gets
  
older" , said Mrs Murphy as she stroked the baby's nose .

"I just hope mom  gets a stretch strap , he hates the others they dig into
  
your  skin when you work ,  he likes wind up ones too ,  he said he'd  not
  
have got his present one if he'd realised it was a battery one . "

"I'm  sure she'll get a nice one ,  I mean now there's a real man in  your
  
family , besides she probably fancies him on the quite . " said Mrs Murphy
  
as she played with the baby in her arms .

"You're an absolute terror , you are ! " laughed June .

"It might be true ,  I was reading it in the Readers Digest at the surgery
  
when I was at Dr.  Quaringa's for my blood pressure tablets . It said that
  
some mothers - in - laws have a fixation for there son in laws . "

"Well I'll have to get my figure back quick , and then start to seduce him
  
again !" laughed June .

"You'll soon have a brother for Shiela if you do that ,  but at least with
  
two children to look after , then Patrick would be too busy to notice your
  
mother's overtures .  " retorted a deadpan Mrs Murphy before looking up at
  
June and throwing back her head to cackle like a hen .

Patrick  came  over to see what was up .  The two women in his  life  just
  
looked  at  him and resumed their laughter with fresh vigour  .  Then  his
  
daughter joined in to .

"The  sooner  I  have a son ,  the better ,  then at  least  I'll  not  be
  
surrounded by mad women " , said a slightly indignant Patrick .

June and Mrs Murphy just looked at each other again and laughed till  they
  
cried . Patrick was bemused , so he repeated his statement . "The sooner I
  
have a son the better !  "  June wiped the tears from her eyes  ,  before
  
kissing him .  "I'll only be too happy to oblige ,  if you can wait a  few
  
weeks " ,  she replied as she patted her still swollen stomach  .  Patrick
  
blushed as red as the bottles of ketchup on the tables ,  Mrs Murphy  just
  
swelled  with  pride  and whispered to the bundle in  her  arms  "  Little
  
Timothy won't be long in coming , a year at the most . "

Patrick was still blushing as June kissed him again .  Mrs Murphy then got
  
up  and handed the treasure back to June ,  before snatching a  kiss  from
  
Patrick and leaving the cafe , she had other matters to attend to .....


          Mrs Murphy had walked to the end of the street when , she had to
  
stop and shake a pebble from her shoes , leaning on a wall as she did so .

When something cold and wet shoved itself into the back of her leg she was
  
naturally frighten for a second . Spinning around she saw what it was .

"God  blast you ,  the Devil carry you ,  Amjit you hairy thing  will  you
  
leave me alone . " She screatched at the innocent dog .

Amjit lowered his head ,  and offered his paw ,  so they could shake hands
  
and be friends again .  It was then than Mrs Murphy noticed her umbrella ,
  
hadn't she left it in the cafe and Amjit had brought it after her .

"Sorry , Amjit , but you did frighten me . Here shake hands . "

They shook hands ,  then with a woof ,  and what could easily by  mistaken
  
for  a  smile Amjit was off his tail high and proud .  He  too  had  other
  
business to attend to , if only he could remember where he had buried that
  
pig's head that Big Sid had given him ,  Amjit knew there was another meal
  
or two left in it , if only he could remember where he'd left it .

"Thank's again ,  Amjit " shouted Mrs Murphy after the hairy hound . Amjit
  
stopped to bark again ,  then with a burst of astonishing speed he was off
  
,  he'd probably seen the Post Office cat and Amjit wanted to talk to that
  
moggie .  It started to rain ,  and thanking Amjit with a "Bless Him"  Mrs
  
Murphy  opened her umbrella .  She had hardly opened it when  old  Michael
  
pulled up in his taxi .

"Do you want a lift , I've earnt my diesel for the day . "

"Well could you take me to Weatherfield Rd ,the one by the Rover's  Return
  
past the old clothing factory ? "

"Hop in , but why are you going over that way ? "

"Me  and Mrs Lynch are looking after Mrs Powulska , she's still weak after
  
her operation ,  so we take it in turns to keep an eye on her . Her sister
  
is coming ower from Poland for a month  ,  she will be here in a few  days
  
so I've got to tidy the place up a bit . "

"I like the Poles they are a great lot ,  I was with a lot of them  fellas
  
in the war ,  they are sometimes called the Irish of Central Europe , they
  
have  suffered let me tell you .  " said Michael as he moved up the  gears
  
and sped off .

 "Yes they did suffer ,  first the Nazis ,  then the Communists , but they
  
led the way for Europe to be free , and after all isn't the Pope himself a
  
Pole ,  so you cann't beat that .  " said Mrs Murphy her voice showing her
  
passion .

             As  Mrs  Murphy left the taxi ,  Michael who'd  just  had  10
  
minutes on the persecution of the Catholic church in Poland was numbed  by
  
the outpouring .  "Is it really true , they built a church themselves cos
  
the government built the town without one .  And that in Albania they shot
  
a priest dead for babtising a baby ? "        
  
  "Yes " was Mrs Murphy's simple reply though her eyes betrayed her  anger
  
and passion .

 "The Bastards , I fought a war for them , what are they afraid of ! "

"The Baby Jesus " mumbled Mrs Murphy as she walked away .

  "Let  me know when your Polish friend arrives ,  I'll drive you  to  the
  
airport  "  shouted  Michael  after  Mrs  Murphy  .   She  just  waved  in
  
acknowledgement , her mind was elsewhere .

            Mrs Murphy did the vacuuming ,  and dusting for 2 hours before
  
stopping  to make cup of tea for herself and a hot meal for Mrs Powulska  .
  
She proped Mrs Powulska up in bed , before putting a tray down in front of
  
her , she watched as a still weak Mrs Powulska ate .

"So which part of Poland , does your sister come from ? " asked Mrs Murphy
  
as she sipped her tea .

"Oh the south , a little place , a university place , its called Cracou "

Mrs Murphy's cup clattered against the saucer ,  she put her tea down  for
  
fear of dropping it .  To her it was as if a trumpet had sounded to herald
  
the entrance of an angel .

"That's where the Pope comes from !" she jabbered .

 "Oh ,  of course , he babtised my sister's children . This food really is
  
good , you could almost be a Pole , Mrs Murphy . " replied Mrs POwulska as
  
she ate heartily . Mrs Murphy finished her tea fast , she'd have to give a
  
final sheen to things before she went .  After all wasn't a friend of  the
  
Pope's coming .  She had seen the Pope in Coventry ,  sneaked in with  the
  
handicaped thanks to Fr.  Shaw , but now to meet with a friend of the Pope
  
, Mrs Murphy hadn't been this excited since her confirmation .


         Mrs Murphy took it upon herself to meet Mrs Powulska's sister  at
  
the airport . On the drive in Nanska  the sister  , told an awe struck Mrs
  
Murphy all about "Carol" , which was what the Pope insisted his old school
  
chums call him ,  his reasoning being that's what his mum called him ,  so
  
they  must  call  him  that  too .  Michael cocked  half  an  ear  to  the
  
conversation , after all it wasn't often that he had a V.I.P. in the back
  
of his taxi .  Mind you he had had the odd Lord Mayor or two who did think
  
that they were important ,  Michael knew from his own experience that  the
  
really important people tended to be the quiet ones  , they knew that they
  
were the guardians of gifts ,  however bizarre or seemingly useless ,  yes
  
the truly important people were the quite ones that was for sure , ask any
  
old taxi driver mused Michael as he pulled up outside Mrs Powulska's .

  "Thank's Michael ,  come inside for a cuppa ,  I'm sure Nanska will  not
  
mind . " chirped Mrs Murphy .

 "Yes ,  Shiela is taking the words from me .  " continued Nanska who  was
  
now as a sister to Mrs Murphy . The sisterhood of the faith , was a bit of
  
a  beneign  conspiracy  .   A  pair  of  rosary  beeds  and  pictures   of
  
grandchildren in a bag and there you had it , instant sisterhood no matter
  
what nationality ,  it was the mothers that gave birth to faith ,  and  it
  
was meer men that said the Masses .  The Pope himself knew that  ,  that's
  
why  he  insisted on being called Carol by Nanska and all his  old  school
  
friends .
  
          Inside the tears flowed into the tea ,  Polish words  and  songs
  
rang  out from the heart to the heart ,  there in central  England  ,  Mrs
  
Murphy  looked on ,  she knew that but for the miracle of Poland  breaking
  
the chains of Communism ,  this happy scene would never have happened . It
  
was  at  times  like these that a good Irish drink was  called  for  .  So
  
reaching into the bottom of her black bag , she produced Poteen .

"Will you take some in your "Tay" ?  " ,  she said but without awaiting an
  
answer she was pouring it .

"What is this Poteen ?  " asked a curious Nanska , sitting up straight and
  
straightening her hugh , black clad bussom .

 "Vodka " was Michael's reply ,  repeating the word in Polish , it was one
  
of  the  few words of Polish that he could remember from  the  war  ,  the
  
others words  he knew were certainly not fit for ladies such as these .

 So tentatively sipping at the cup ,  Nanska tried her fortified tea  .Her
  
face changed colour then slowly changed back again ,  rather like  traffic
  
lights changing ,  only traffic lights don't breathe heavily and fan their
  
mouths with their hands .

 "It's good " said Nanska with a tear coming down her eye .

  "It's  fresh  if I'm not mistaken " added Michael who was a  bit  of  an
  
authority on these things .

  "It  was made three weeks ago ,  Sgt Mulhollands family send it  over  "
  
mumbled Mrs Murphy a tear now coming down her own eye .

  So the three ladies and an old taxi driver got quietly and quickly drunk
  
,  on tea strengthened with Poteen .  Michael even remembered a whole song
  
in Polish that he'd learnt . It's wonderful the power of good alcohol , it
  
brings back the memories to the old and banishes the cold of loneliness .

As for the song ,  it was as bad or as good as the one Mrs Murphy had sung
  
at  the do for the childrens's home .  The two Polish women  laughed  till
  
they  cried  ,  Michael sung it even louder and was made repeat  it  seven
  
times ,  and all the time he hadn't a clue for the life of him what he was
  
singing ....


        The next day Mrs Murphy took Nanska on a trip around town to  show
  
the sights ,  Mrs Murphy really liked flashing her bus pass like a  police
  
man , in fact Starsky was her favourite . The two ladies stopped off for a
  
cuppa at a little cafe by the bus station .  Behind them was a park and  a
  
wood , it reminded Nanska of home .

 "I feel at home here ,  with these woods ,  with a friend by my side "  ,
  
she squeezed Mrs Murphy's hand , as she gazed towards the woods .

 " We have woods like that back home , when I was in service in the hotels
  
in  Killarney I used to walk in the woods .  Its nice to see something  so
  
tall  and  strong reach up to the sky and grow .  Then you  have  the  low
  
branches with their leaves leaning down and touching your hair . It always
  
gave me a thrill . " said Mrs Murphy as she followed Nanska's gaze .

 "It was such a thrill ,  the soft earth underneath the trees , the bouncy
  
ground , the squirrels chattering away and jumping like acrobats from tree
  
to tree ,  the magpies too ,  oh it was all so grand , just think what its
  
like to be young ." continued Mrs Murphy in bewteen sips of tea .

"It was the closest we got to sex . " smiled Nanska

"Yes  ,  I  suppose  you  are right - then  we  realised  trees  are  more
  
dependable than men . " laughed Mrs Murphy .

  They laughed together ,  a shared love of trees ,  a shared  faith  ,  a
  
shared  hope ,  they laughed as only the old can laugh ,  they laughed  at
  
themselves .

  "Come  on ,  let's walk in the woods " said Mrs Murphy  jumping  up  and
  
nearly knocking the table and chairs over .

A smiling Nanska ,  eagerly joined in this nonsense , oh to be young again
  
,  youth was wasted on the young ,  they wasted so much time , life is for
  
living and loving and hoping , not sitting around and saying " I'm Bored"

all this went through both their heads as they strode towards the wood .

Not  that  they actually strode ,  in their hearts they  did  ,  but  they
  
progressed towards the woods arm in arm .....

           They must have been in the woods for a half hour ,  before  Mrs
  
Murphy felt the call of nature . So making hissing noises , and gestures ,
  
she  ushered Nanska on ,  while she did a country pee .  This is  how  Mrs
  
Murphy described crouching behind a tree with her dress held up about  her
  
head  so she could let nature take its course .  It was while nature  took
  
its  course  that it happened .  A fact of human nature to be  prescise  ,
  
greed .  Nanska was mugged . Mrs Murphy heard the screams and came running
  
, or rather huffing and puffing with her drawers still not fully pulled up
  
"What's up ?" she demanded as she rearranged her underwear .

"A bandit take my bag " was Nanska's reply as tried to contain her heaving
  
bussum , such was her shock and heart rate .

Mrs  Murphy looked feverishly around her hoping to see the  mugger  ,  but
  
there was no chance .  So taking Nanska's hand to comfort her , Mrs Murphy
  
led Nanska out of the wood .  On the way out they found Nanska's handbag ,
  
there was a trail of Nanska's poccessions .

"So we are lucky after all " said Mrs Murphy trying to console Nanska .

  "Yes ,  but he did frighten me ,  he pushed me to the ground  "  replied
  
Nanska as she crouched about picking up her belongings .

 "Bad sest him ,  the divil carry him  , if ever I catch him , I'd tan his
  
bare  arse ," said Mrs Murphy as she struggled about picking  up  Nanska's
  
belongings .

"I have everything now ,  he must have thrown it down when he realised  my
  
money  was Polish kind .  Sadly I miss the gold cross and chain  that  The
  
Pope gave me . " sighed Nanska .

Mrs  Murphy's  ears pricked up as she heard this ,  nobody  , no  cheeky
  
spotty  youth  was  going to steal from her  friend  ,  she'd  catch  this
  
"person" if it was the last thing she did . Her head raced with anger , as
  
the two of them continued out of the wood , towards the bus station .  Now
  
how would Starsky deal with this she wondered ,  then she wondered   was
  
St.  Anthony  the  one for muggings too ,  after all she wanting  help  in
  
finding  that  cross  .  She  was  awakened  from  her  throughts  by  the
  
"Chugg,chugg" of Michael's taxi .

"Jump  in ladies ,  where to ?  " he said quietly ,  as his head  had  not
  
recovered from the night before .

 "You better go to Mark's , WE have been mugged . " said Mrs Murphy .

           At Mark's ,  Mrs Murphy and her soul mate ,  were the life  and
  
soul of the inquest into the mugging .  Concerned looks , and dire threats
  
of  what they'd do to the culprit were the order of the day . Patrick  his
  
hands covered in flour came running .

"Are you alright , are you alright ? " he said , scouring his mothers face
  
for signs of harm .

"Of course , I am . Only the spotty faced monster made me wet my knickers"

 "You were that afraid ? " said a worried looking Patrick .

  "Don't be so soft ,  you overgrown egyt ,  I was taking a country pee  ,
  
when  I  heard the fuss ,  then in my rush I wet my knickers ."  said  Mrs
  
Murphy with a look that said "What kind of idiot have I for a son " .

  "So we've wet the baby's head last week and now your knickers this

  week ! "  said Patrick who couldn't resist the chance of a joke .

 "I'm not too old to tan your bare arse ,  Patrick ! "  snapped Mrs Murphy
  
before she saw the funny side and started to shriek with laughter .

 "I'm going to catch that cheeky monkey , I don't mind my knickers getting
  
wet  ,  it's  just  that Nanska a visiter to our country  should  not  get
  
treated like that ,  it ruins the reputation of the place ,  they'll think
  
we are all totally uncivilised .  " Mrs Murphy sounded more than indignant
  
, she had that look in her eye . Then by way of afterthought she added

"Besides ,  the little bastard stole a cross and chain given to Nanska  by
  
the Pope himself ! "

  Patrick knew  it was definately a waste of time trying to  persuade  his
  
mother that she hadn't a chance in hell of finding the mugger .  He looked
  
about the cafe trying to think of something useful  to say . Outside Amjit
  
barked and put his nose to the window .

"Well Amjit can help you , " said Patrick trying placate his mother .

"Well I'll take him home with  me then . "


          The next few days Amjit found himself under house arrest at  Mrs
  
Murphy's . She was training him with the aid of a hurling stick and ginger
  
nut biscuits ,  if he had a soul Amjit would have sold it for a ginger nut
  
biscuit , wasn't Patrick the same only Rolos were his weakness . Amjit was
  
a  clever dog already  ,  but Mrs Murphy didn't quite trust him as he  had
  
ran  after a squirrel while saving Jaswinder .  She was an old  woman  she
  
didn't want to be attacked while souring the town for the mugger  .  Amjit
  
already knew English and a bit of Indian but now the Gaelic were to be his
  
command words . Mrs Murphy did not want anybody to know what was coming .

 "Well , you seem to know your stuff , so we'll go for a walk in the woods
  
then ."


            Walking in the woods was a joy for Mrs Murphy ,  a harsh  word
  
in Gaelic was all that was needed when Amjit started to trot , having seen
  
a squirrel ahead .That and the odd ginger nut .She thought she'd only have
  
to walk into the woods and then  the mugger would come out with his  hands
  
up  ,  but neither life nor love is like that .  The first thing that  Mrs
  
Murphy  came across seemed to be a body ,  she couldn't quite see  so  she
  
sent Amjit ahead ,  just in case it was dangerous .  Amjit crept ahead and
  
sniffed at a white rounded thing ,  his cold nose touched it . There was a
  
startled scream ,  followed by a girl's laughter .  Amjit had disturbed  a
  
pair  of natural lovers .  Mrs Murphy brought up the rear ,  averting  her
  
eyes from the naked lovers .

  "I'm  sorry  if my dog disturbed your husband at  his  "Work"  ,  "  the
  
laughter in her voice ,  hadn't friends of hers done the same fifty  years
  
ago in the woods of Killarney ,  in a crowded house a wood can be a  thing
  
of wonder and recreation  if not procreation .

"He's only my boyfriend !" came a laughed reply from the girl , while the
  
boy blushed .

 "You should only do that if you know , he'd be a good father to a baby !"

was Mrs Murphy's moral retort her eyes averted still .

 "Oh ,  he will be ,  I want lots of children ,  we are just getting  some
  
practice in , " was the final remark before the girl got the boy to carry
  
on with a job well done .

  Mrs Murphy was going to say something more but then thought  of  Patrick
  
and June ,  so she just laughed and laughed ,  they were true lovers  just
  
like her Patrick and June , so what if they were early starters . And they
  
wanted  lots of kids ,  anybody who loved children was ok in Mrs  Murphy's
  
book .      
  
           Further  into the wood  teenage children were swinging  from  a
  
rope  tied  to a tree .  When they saw Amjit they  scattered  ,  screaming
  
"Police"  .  They had been playing truant from school ,  the sight  of  an
  
enormous  dog  had only meant one thing to them - Police  .  It  took  Mrs
  
Murphy  a while to realise this . Then she realised she had a new  problem
  
now , how to make Amjit invisible .
    
             Mrs  Murphy  thought  long and hard  on  how  to  make  Amjit
  
invisible , it would be easy if she was Paul Daniels the tv magician , but
  
she  was just a poor widow woman ,  as she insisted to her son every  time
  
she  wanted to extract a favour .  Saint Francis was roped in to help  but
  
this only gave partial success , what was needed was something to slow the
  
hairy  beast down .  Mrs Murphy even thought of attaching the old last  to
  
Amjit's collar ,  she ruled this out though ,  something much heavier  was
  
needed  , something that would make Amjit slow down and so make  him  keep
  
his  distance and so be invisible .  Then while watching the tv she saw  a
  
blacksmith ,  a light went on in her mind , now an anvil would be just the
  
thing to slow Amjit down .  It was then that Saint Francis spoke up ,  she
  
couldn't  be  so  cruel to a dumb animal especially  after  he  had  saved
  
Jaswinder  .  The picture of Mother Theresa looked down the wall and  said
  
"have faith ".Mrs Murphy looked at Amjit lying at her feet like some  form
  
of  long  haired rug and smiled her own saintly smile  ,  they  were  only
  
thoughts ,  meer passing pagan clouds . She threw Amjit a ginger nut , the
  
"rug" awoke and caught it , licked his lips and wagged his tail ; he liked
  
her ,  it amused him how she threatened him with a hurling stick ,  he let
  
her think she was in charge ,  after all he really would sell his soul for
  
a ginger nut .

          The door bell rang ,  Saint Francis had sent a helper ,  no last
  
this but a human anvil who would really slow Amjit down , it was Mathew .

Mrs  Murphy smiled ,  those saints really loved playing games with  her  ,
  
they could really drive her to distraction ,  yet they always came through
  
in  the  end  ,  even though if sometimes  they puzzled  her  despite  her
  
fathomless faith .
  
"Hello Mathew ,  come in I'll make some fresh tea ,  I've a favour to  ask
  
you " , she said casting a sideways glance at Mother Theresa on the wall.
   
           The next day Mathew and Mrs Muphy were on the street ,  a trail
  
of ginger nuts seperated them .  The plan was for Mrs Murphy to call Amjit
  
and make him advance slowly along the street ,  picking up the ginger nuts
  
one by one ,  Mathew was the braking device to prevent Amjit wolfing  down
  
the lot .  This  did the trick ,  as Mathew was heavier than any  last  or
  
anvil .

             "Follow  " commanded Mrs Murphy from up the  street  . Fifty
  
yards  away Amjit eagerly obeyed ,  why shouldn't he after  all  ,  wasn't
  
there a trail of ginger nuts in front of him ,  he was only a dog , albeit
  
a very large and hairy dog , but he wasn't stupid . The pavement was a bit
  
wet  and  slippery after the early rain ,  and such  was  Amjit's  pulling
  
power that if Mathew were wearing skis he could have water skied along the
  
pavement , but since Mathew wasn't then that wasn't a possibility , but it
  
was  a near thing .  Amjit proceeded up the road after Mrs Murphy  licking
  
his lips all the way ,  now this was fun he thought ,  even if he did have
  
to  drag Mathew after him .  After half an hour the supply of ginger  nuts
  
was  exhausted .  Jaswinder came skipping out with a couple of packets  of
  
ginger  nuts  ,  her  father like everybody else on the  street  had  been
  
watching  with  interest .  So patting Amjit hello and  goodbye  Jaswinder
  
skipped away ,  her mission had been accomplished .  Amjit again  followed
  
Mrs  Murphy at a distance ,  still weighed down by Mathew ,  to be  honest  
  
Amjit was getting bored ,  even though it was his duty to do Mrs  Murphy's
  
bidding , it would be a shame to waste all those nice ginger nuts wouldn't
  
it ?  "Now lets see if he'll do it without the bribe , " yelled Mrs Murphy
  
to  Mathew  .  So  Amjit followed her at a  distance  ,  almost  inventing
  
pavement water skiing at the same time as he dragged Mathew along .  Amjit
  
followed three times without reward . "Well he seems to have leant it then
  
doesn't  he  ?  "  beamed a happy Mrs Murphy .  Only  to  be  disappointed
  
immediately  ,  Mathew had let go of Amjit ,  so a disgusted Amjit  dashed
  
off. It wasn't fair was it , Amjit had been tricked , he had obeyed out of
  
duty hadn't he ,  the ginger nuts had nothing to do with it ,  it was  the
  
principle , wasn't it ?  
  
          In the cafe Mrs Murphy had a well earned cuppa while she treated
  
Mathew  to a banana milk shake .  Where had that turncoat Amjit got  to  ,
  
just when she thought he had learnt his lesson .

          Amjit too was having a break ,  he'd dug up a favourite bone and
  
was chewing on it , pondering on the morning's fun as he sucked the marrow
  
from his bone .  It was while Amjit was chewing that he had an idea ,  but
  
he finished his bone first before he put his idea into action .

            "I've got an idea  Mathew ,  what if we gradually  reduce  the
  
amount  of ginger nuts ,  then even that stupid dog will  understand  ,  "
  
sighed Mrs Murphy , who was tired and feeling her age .

"Like Barbara Woodhouse did on the telly last night do you mean ? "replied
  
Mathew as he blew bubbles into his milk shake .  Mrs Murphy realised  what
  
an old fool she had been and it was Mathew of all people who had made  her
  
realise this .

 "Come on then , I'll try and whistle the devil back to us , " she said as
  
she leant on the back of a chair to lever herself up .   
  
          Outside Amjit was sitting with his lead in his teeth ,  his tail
  
was wagging ,  he was pleased with himself and the bone he'd just eaten no
  
doubt . "Your stomach not full enough is it ? " scolded Mrs Murphy . Amjit
  
just  barked and skipped in front of her just like a puppy .  "You  better
  
grab him ,  before the rascal runs away . " Then in front of them they saw
  
the fruits of Amjit's chewing the cud or rather chewing his bone  .  Along
  
the  pavement placed at intervals were fragments of bone !  Amjit  thought
  
Mrs  Murphy  had  ran out of bribes ,  so he had supplied  his  own  ,  in
  
readiness for more fun .

           "You'd teach this grandmother to suck eggs wouldn't you ,"  she
  
again scolded , as Amjit jumped about like a very excited puppy .   
  
"But I thought we were just teaching him to follow you at a distance , and
  
how can a dog suck eggs , or do you mean carry eggs like Police dogs can
  
do , like I saw on - "

"Barbara Woodhouse last night ,  " interrupted Mrs Murphy .  She looked at
  
Amjit  and  then Mathew ,  then she smiled ,  some would  call  them  dumb
  
animals yet both had shown her a thing or two .  There was no doubt in her
  
mind ,  St.Francis was making a fool of her .  She shook her head then she
  
let  the  laughter out ,  at her age she had no time nor need of  anger  ,
  
laughter was all she wanted ,  that and to die in her sleep and to convert
  
the  pagan  grandparents of course .  The shopkeepers who had  again  been
  
keeping half an  eye  on proceedings came out to see what was the cause of
  
all the laughter ,  Mathew having started off too ,  a braying echo of Mrs
  
Murphy's earthy laugh , Amjit barking for joy too , which would soon start
  
off all the dogs in the neighbourhood . A look along the street to see all
  
the  bones  soon  explained things .  So the whole street  joined  in  the
  
laughter  .  When sanity returned Amjit proved that he'd already  mastered
  
the trick of following at a distance .  If the truth be know ,  Amjit  had
  
worked  things out pretty soon ,  but he hadn't the heart to admit  it  to
  
poor Mrs Murphy , besides it was great fun , if she wanted to leave ginger
  
nuts along the pavement then he wasn't going to stop her . After all a dog
  
was man's and old ladies' best friend .  
  
             Mrs  Murphy resumed her search of the woods  with  her  newly
  
trained Amjit , but to no avail . So she went and had a bun and a tea from
  
the cafe in front of the wood . It wasn't fair , she'd spent all this time
  
and energy ,not to mention wasted prayers and still no sign of the mugger.

             While Mrs Murphy was having simple fare ,  on the other  side
  
of  town  Mrs  Annette Kemp was treating herself to  Black  Forest  Gateau  
  
washed down by real coffee and cream  all served by pretty young girls  in
  
uniforms  similiar to those Mrs Murphy had worn fifty years ago  when  in
  
service  in the hotels on the lakes of Killarney .  Mrs Kemp  was  pleased
  
with  herself ,  she'd just bought Patrick his birthday present ,  a  very
  
nice Rolex with clasp strap . So pleased was she that she had the watch on
  
her table so she could admire it while she had her gateau and coffee , and
  
she of course congradulated herself on her good taste , if only some would
  
rub off on Patrick .  Then she smiled to herself ,  hadn't he married  HER
  
daughter ,  so if that wasn't good taste ,  then what was ? She overlooked
  
the fact that   some of her "friends" would have called  it  a  "Shotgun
  
Wedding"  ;  but  now that SHE was a grandmother those kind  of  "friends"
  
could  go  to  hell as far as she was concerned ,  in many  ways  she  was
  
already like the other grannie - Mrs Murphy .  
  
           Outside on the street somebody else was admiring the Rolex ,  a
  
spotty faced youth with a skateboard under his arm ,  a "class war"  badge
  
on his jumper , next to a gold cross held on with a safety pin . As far as
  
the  spotty  youth was concerned here was one of  the  enemy  ,  flaunting
  
wealth ,  that one watch would more than pay for a years poll tax , that's
  
if the spotty youth didn't feel poll tax was immoral .  Not that  stealing
  
was immoral , for that's was what he was about to do .

            Mrs  Kemp finished her gateau ,  had a last sip  of  her  real
  
coffee , then she put the Rolex away , into a dainty carrier with Rolex on
  
it .  She floated outside ,  with the air of the Queen Mother about her  ,
  
she  was  happy and content ,  it had been a nice morning ,  a  very  nice
  
morning  .  So  when  a sneering spotty faced youth shouted  in  her  face
  
grabbing  her precious cargo she was to taken aback .  She  just  couldn't
  
comprehend  the situation ,  it was like stealing one of the  three  gifts
  
from one of the three kings ,  or slapping an angel's bum and asking for a
  
bit of slap and tickle . It happened to other people but never to you , it
  
was as likely as a man breaking into the Queen's bedroom . It just did not
  
happen .  Then Mrs Kemp's face fell ,  it had really happened and to her ,
  
just as it had happened to the Queen , even the Queen .   
  
 "Stop thief ,  catch that little BASTARD ," she screamed .  She hailed  a
  
taxi and ordered "Follow that skateboard . " Only the taxi driver laughed

"It's too late for April Fool's Missus .  " This really annoyed Mrs Kemp ,
  
being called "Missus" ,  and by a taxi driver . So she ordered him to take
  
her to the street , her daughter at least would give her some sympathy ..
    
          "So you see the spotty creature grabbed the bag and made off  on
  
his skateboard ,  I doubt if he could tell the time , unless it was on one
  
of  those  horrid  digital watches ,  so why on earth should  he  steal  a
  
"Timepiece"  like the Rolex ?  " mused Mrs Kemp to her daughter ,  as  she
  
sipped her tea in Mark's cafe .

"So Patrick won't be getting his birthday present then ? " said June , who
  
was holding her mother's twitching hand , the shock only now sinking in .

"No ,  he'll have his watch ,  no little hoodlum is going to ruin MY plans
  
after all ,  Patrick is family now .  Though you will come with me to  the
  
shop to buy him another , I wouldn't feel safe on my own ."

June looked at her mother , she suddenly seemed old and vunerable  ,  the
  
hard  real world had never dared encroach on Mrs Kemp ,  and now there she
  
was holding June's hand ,  looking vunerable , June was the mother and her
  
mother was the little frightened child .
  
"Of course I will ,  but you need not go to the expense ,  after all it is
  
the thought that counts , " concern in both her eyes and voice .

Outside there was a screech of brakes ,as three orange VW vans pulled up .

Out  jumped  eight Indians in turbans and saffron coloured  robes  ,  long
  
swords dangling by their sides . Behind the Indians came Mrs Murphy , like
  
an honour guard they heralded Mrs Murphy into Mark's cafe .

 "Nine teas , please , and some cake too , " flashed a pearl white smile .

Mrs Murphy sat down , her boys surrounding her . It was only then that Mrs
  
Murphy noticed  a crestfallen Mrs Kemp .

"Are you alright ? You look down today , Annette , " Mrs Murphy enquired .

"Mom was mugged , just a while ago ," answered June .

"Jesus ,  Mary and Joseph it's an epidemic .  Didn't somebody have a go at
  
me , only a few minutes ago ! "

"What ,  somebody tried to mug you ,  dear God ,  Shiela what's the  world
  
coming to ? " a startled Mrs Kemp replied .

"Oh  ,  I'm ok the mugger just pushed me to the ground .  You see the  bus
  
conducter  was  in a funny mood so he wouldn't let me take Amjit  on  the
  
bus  ,  so the poor dog had to walk the two miles home on his own  .  Then
  
what with the dirty bus windows I couldn't see where I was and got off  at
  
the wrong stop . So this young  lad jumped out at me . But luckily my boys
  
happened to  be passing so they jumped out  of their vans and chased him

down the street .  I think he got the fright of his life , mind you he's a
  
very  fast runner ,  he just tucked his skateboard under his arm  and  ran
  
like  he'd just seen a banshee ,  " Mrs Murphy gave glowing looks  to  her
  
boys .

"Well ,  when we saw Mrs Murphy we were going to give her a lift ,  as  it
  
was we ended up saving her from God knows what ," said Amajit the one with
  
the pearl white smile .

"This is Amajit , and these are his brothers , Bamajit , Camajit , Damajit
  
,Hasajit  ,Jamajit , Nanajit and the little one is Pamajit ,  " said  a
  
proud Mrs Murphy as if they were her own sons , and in fact she would love
  
them to be sons of hers .  For they were all fine strong lads ,  only they
  
were sons of India and not of Kerry .

"And  how did you you get to know such fine young men ,  " asked Mrs  Kemp
  
forgetting her own indignatities ,  for Amajit had the looks of an  Indian
  
screen idol .

"She stopped me from walking under a bus when I was a child ,  so it is my
  
duty to honour her and treat her as a mother ,  " said Amajit flashing his
  
smile straight at Mrs Kemp .  Mrs Kemp very nearly swooned ,  a smile like
  
that had never been given to her , never .  Mrs  Murphy winked at  June  ,
  
wasn't  this proof of what she had said ,  Mrs Kemp was after a toy boy  ,
  
and  if Patrick was unavailable then Amajit would do fine ,  very  fine  .
  
June looked at the ceiling and bit her lip ,  Mrs Murphy was a rogue to be
  
sure .  Amajit his smiling over ,  snapped his biscuit in two , and sipped
  
his tea .  His brothers  forming a kaleidoscopic imitation of him ,  as to
  
the  echo they in turn snapped their biscuits and sipped their  tea  ,  if
  
there had been music it would have seemed like ballet or even opera .

"The  lads  are off to the Temple for a do ,  these are not  their  street
  
clothes , " answered Mrs Murphy seeing a question form on Mrs Kemp's lips.
  
"Speaking of which we must be off ,  " said Amajit looking at his Rolex  ,
  
his  action  rippling out to his brothers as they in turn looked  at their
  
Rolexes .  So rising like a wave , with Amajit its crest the Khan brothers
  
were  off  ,  just  pausing long enough to nod at Mrs  Murphy  ,  and  for
  
Amajit's  final smile to Mrs Kemp .  So with a screech and three puffs  of
  
exhaust ,  the VW vans with the Khan's in them disappeared . Though Amajit
  
would never disappear from Mrs Kemp's mind .
  
  "He's  such a nice man ,  and were they all wearing Rolex  watches  ?  "
  
wondered Mrs Kemp trying to appear nonchalant . Mrs Murphy again winked at
  
June before answering .
  
 "He's a nice lad , so are his brothers . They are worth a few million now
  
  I suppose .  Working sixteen hour days does have its rewards  .  They've
  
just  bought the old pressing works , to expand their clothing business  .
  
They have one sister too ,  but  sadly she's a spastic ,  they love her to
  
death  ,  they  are building her a bungalow of her own  ,  next  to  their
  
parents house , so she can be independent . It's nice that , they are nice
  
lads  .  The youngest boy is having a year off before he goes  to  Medical
  
School , he's going to go to Birmingham because its the best . "
  
" I am impressed , " replied Mrs Kemp raising her eyebrows .
  
"You'll be impressed more when I catch the mugger , " intoned Mrs Murphy .
  
         Two days later Mrs Murphy had dragged a reluctant Nanska  to  the
  
woods  ,  not in a last ditch hope  to catch the mugger ,  they  would  be
  
more likely to uncover a teddybears' picnic than that ,  no , to quell any
  
lasting fears Nanska may hold for woods .  They were of course accompanied
  
by  Amjit  ,  whose  presence  would strike fear into  The  Hound  of  the
  
Baskerville's , Mrs Murphy had more than prayers to be her guide .

"I'm  very sorry we haven't been able to catch that mugger ,it  really  is
  
such a disappointment to me .  Three old woman all attacked by one  spotty
  
youth .  I don't mind it happening to me  ,  nor do I miss the fancy watch
  
that  my  son's  mother-in-law lost , its just that you a  guest  in  our
  
country , and not to mentiopn a friend of the Pope's should not be treated
  
like  this ,  " said Mrs Murphy shaking her head ,  as if it were all  her
  
fault .

"You do your best Shiela ,  he have the luck of the Devil ,  and he run so
  
fast  as you tell me ,  " replied Nanska placing a consoling hand  on  Mrs
  
Murphy's .

They  carried  on  walking through the trees ,  the veins  in  the  leaves
  
looking  like outstretched hands ,  begging hands ,  just as Mrs  Murphy's
  
heart was begging the saints to help her and her Polish soulmate . Amjit
  
stopped and sniffed the wind .  The woman looked ,  ahead of them  a man
  
was relieving himself against a tree ,  Amjit began to growl softly , that
  
was one of his favourite trees ,  he'd often marked it ,  what was a  mere
  
man doing to his tree . Mrs Murphy was on the point of scolding Amjit when
  
she noticed first the man's arm .  He was far away ,  but she'd seen eight
  
Rolexes  the  other day and to be sure that was a  nineth  .  Then  Nanska
  
pointed ,  wasn't there a skateboard propped against the tree  .  Amjit's
  
growls  errupted into one bark ,this made the man turn to see  where  the
  
sound came from . It was the worst thing he could have done .

"Bandit , " screamed Nanska slightly shocked at seeing the mugger again .

"He'll  be wetting his knickers now ,  " shouted a delighted Mrs Murphy  .
  
Before she could shout "Skither his Arse" Amjit was off , he knew that man
  
wasn't nice ,  how could he be , he'd used his tree , and he wasn't even a
  
nice bitch ,  just a mere man .  Amjit howled ,  the birds scattered , the
  
squirrels raced up trees , the mugger peed on his own leg , caught himself
  
on his zip , and then ran like a bat out of hell . Only it would be no use
  
 for a hound of hell was on his tail ,  no longer the creeping ,  the slow
  
the  steady Amjit as bribed by ginger nuts ,  but the hound of hell  ,  or
  
rather God's Animal making a good impersonation of a Hell's Angel . As the
  
mugger ran he could hear a jangling ,  this was Amjit's name tag , his our
  
lady of Lourdes medal and his Indian holy man medal ,  it formed a kind of
  
clanging  or bell ring ,  and for whom did the bell toll ,  the mugger  of
  
course  .  It  was  while  the mugger was running for  his  life  that  he
  
interrupted  the  young couple ,  tha naked lovers who used  the  wood  to
  
create  life ,  in fact he fell over them .  Seconds later Amjit placed  a
  
cold nose on a bare bum , it was his way of asking which way did he go .

Without bothered  to pause  ,  a finger pointed the way ,  Amjit sped  off
  
barking his thanks .  Amjit was beginning to think what a good runner this
  
mere man was ,  then he caught up with him . So teeth first Amjit said his
  
hellos .

"We better try and catch up with him then , " said Mrs Murphy .

"Do you think your dog is fast enough ? " pondered Nanska .
   
A scream rang out through the woods , as if answering Nanska'a doubts , it
  
was  followed by excited barking .  The ladies looked at one  another  and
  
laughed  .  So  picking up the discarded skateboard they  made  their  way
  
though  the woods towards the source of the screams .  On their  way  they
  
came  across the naked lovers .  Mrs Murphy averting her eyes dropped  her
  
son's business card beside them  saying  "If you need a flat give my son a
  
ring  .  "  Her son's flat above the bakery had been empty since he  built
  
his house , so to save the lovers from catching cold she left the card .

         Meanwhile Amjit had let his quarry go ,  not so he could spit the
  
taste out  before biting the mugger again , but more because it was fun to
  
let him go .Then he'd have to catch him again ,first Amjit ran away before
  
reappearing teeth first , rather like a toothpaste commercial , only one
  
with much more bite . The mugger was cowering on the ground squeezed into
  
a ball when Mrs Murphy and Nanska arrived .

"Amjit  leave him be .  As for you young man stand up !  "  commanded  Mrs
  
Murphy , having the full authority of Amjit's teeth at her command  .

The man stood ,  he looked scared , not to mention tattered and bleeding ,
  
Amjit had enjoyed his blood sport .
    
"You  can take off that watch for starters ,  and empty your pockets  ,  "
  
continued Mrs Murphy .

In the woods behind them ,the lovers now clothed watched the proceedings ,

it appeared very strange .  Two old ladies and a very big dog making a man
  
strip . For Mrs Murphy decided he might be hiding something so she had the
  
spotty man strip to his underpants ,  she was sure Starsky would have done
  
the same thing , so it must be right . While the man shivered , Mrs Murphy
  
searched  the  clothes  .  After a while she got  up  from  her  crouching
  
position , in her hand she held a cross , Nanska's cross .

"The  one  Carol give me ,  you are a detective Mrs Murphy ,"   beamed   a
  
grateful Nanska .
  
Amjit barked his praise too , his tail moving like a windmill in a storm .

Mrs Murphy then turned her attention to the mugger .  Behind in the  trees
  
the lovers edged forward , they could sense the coming storm .

"So you think you're a bigshot attacking old ladies ,  and WIDOWS like  me
  
and honoured visitors to our country do you ? " blasted Mrs Murphy .

"Well  don't think you're too old to have your bare arse spanked ,  "  she
  
continued with her Kerry accent getting stronger by the second .

"Turn  around then drop your pants mister ,  " she was trying to sound  as
  
hard as Starsky .  She was getting worked up now , in fact she dropped her
  
handbag  ,  the  contents spilt everywhere .  While she  gathered  up  the
  
contents  of her bag the mugger dropped his pants ,  he'd never live  this
  
down .  But worse was yet to come ,  for amongst the spilt contents of Mrs
  
Murphy's handbag was superglue ,  used to fix her favourite beeds .  In  a
  
second  a wicked idea was formed in Mrs Murphy's mind .  She  grabbed  the
  
skateboard , squirted the glue onto it , then used it to spank the mugger.

Only one spank ,  then while Amjit barked his approval she held the  board
  
to the muggers behind .

"There you are ,  now see how dignified you feel ,  about the same as your
  
victims  who  you leave sprawled about !  " screeched  a  triumphant  Mrs
  
Murphy as she took her hands from the skateboard  , which remained stuck

to  the mugger's behind .  Nanska was silent for a second before  bursting
  
out laughing , the old ladies hugged each other as they continued laughing
  
till tears formed in their eyes .As for Amjit he saw a friend ,another dog
  
that  is  to say ,  so with a bark of farewell he ran off to  play  .  The
  
mugger made his retreat , with the old ladies laughing him farewell .

          When the laughing was over the ladies continued walking  out  of
  
the woods , the lovers broke cover to run after them .

"Excuse  me  ,  but this card you gave us you weren't playing  a  joke  or
  
something were you ? " asked the girl .

"Not at all , in fact we are going back that way now , so if you come with
  
us  on the bus you can see my son about it ?  " relied Mrs Murphy  as  the
  
last trace of her laughter faded , leaving just slightly curled up lips as
  
evidence of her revenge in the woods .

"My car is parked by the bus station ,  we'll give you a lift . By the way
  
we saw what you did to that man , it was very funny , " said the man .

"Bad  cest  him ,  he was a mugger ,  I don't think he'll be  mugging  old
  
ladies anymore , " said an indignant Mrs Murphy .

         Back on the street in Mark's cafe Mrs Murphy held court , telling
  
and  retelling  the story .  Everybody thought she was right to  turn  the
  
tables . When Patrick and June came in Mrs Murphy held up the Rolex before
  
throwing it at her son .

"There's  your birthday present from your mother-in-law ,  I retrieved  it
  
from the mugger ,  Amjit helped of course ,  mind you he's gone off  after
  
some lady dog now . "

"It's nice ,  very nice ,  pity its not a stretch strap  though ,  "  said
  
Patrick as he examined the Rolex .

"Well  as it happens I stopped off at Jimmy's ,  so here's my present  for
  
you , " Patrick's mum then threw a stretch stap at him .

"Thank's  mum ,  you were always practical ,  though it used to be  boiled
  
sweets you threw at me . "

"Oh  June come here I've a favour to ask ?  " continued Mrs  Murphy  still
  
basking  in the afterglow of fame .  The two then confered ,  before  June
  
looked at Liz and Keith before laughing , then with a nod of her head June
  
consented to Mrs Murphy's idea .June edged up to  Patrick and gave him  a
  
lingering kiss on the lips ,  making him blush ,  he hated being kissed in
  
public . He knew June was up to something , but what was it ?

"Patrick I have decided , or rather we have decided " she began .

"You and me ? Decided what ? " interrupted Patrick .

"Me  and  your mother ,  that we ,  " continued June ,  pausing  to  plant
  
another smacker on his lips .  Patrick blushed again ,  and looked at  the
  
floor in an effort to hide those blushes from all in the cafe .

"To finish ,we , and this time I mean you and me are going to rent out the
  
old flat  to Liz and Keith over there , "  she kissed her husband again to
  
press home her point .

"I suppose it is a waste to let it go empty , " observed Patrick trying to
  
appear in charge of the situation .

"Yes it would be .  Besides we don't want Liz and Keith to catch a cold  ,
  
oh and by the way I think we should have a walk in the woods next month ."

Patrick  could see the glint in her eye ,  he did not understand but  June
  
was good at explaining ......

      
  






  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

     
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
               
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
                        
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

Sunday, 24 June 2018

Football Crazy 2010

Football  Crazy 2010
By
Michael  Casey

I speak as a football naive, I've only been to two matches in my life. It was Villa v Arsenal and Villa v Derby maybe 12 years ago. (1998?)
But as I said to Barry at the time the crowd was alive, it was like a huge cat moving and swaying reacting to the play on the pitch. The 1st match I was above the goal very high up. The 2nd match I was with Chris in the middle just a few rows up. Live football cannot be beaten, I can't really explain how it looks and how it feels. Its like you're in a huge jelly that you put on the washing machine and then somebody switches the washing machine on, so you wobble and wobble and  you have no control. 

That's what a football crowd feels like. So much mass movement, so much excitement, 50,000 people  screaming and shouting, laughing and crying. The grass so very very green.
This is live football and when you have a master, and here you can take your pick from any team, ManU, Villa, Chelsea and all the other teams. When you have a master on the pitch it really is The Theatre Of Football. Act One, Act Two and even a few dodgy acts trying to impress the Ref, all of this is football. Live is always best. We've just moved up to a new big lcd tv this year, the difference to everything and to football is amazing. I imagine Sky's 3D is going to be totally fantastic too. 

Footballers are today's Gladiators, instead of Nero or any other Caesar raising his thumb  or condemning  to death, now we have Sir Alex, and the other managers raising their thumbs from their honoured position in the stands. It's an old quote but a true one, "is it a matter of life or death?" No its more important than that.

I have a lot to learn about football, but I do know one thing, the game is better when all of the players are on the pitch in their natural area and not in self imposed "cages" whatever those "cages" are. For footballers  are like lions, they are born free, free as the wind, chasing and ducking and diving, their prey is the football, and the net is their home.




 

Saturday, 23 June 2018

Chatting with Doris

Chatting with Doris

Chatting with Doris ©
By
Michael Casey

I was about to find my bench in the churchyard when I stumbled over Doris in the churchyard, it’s not her real name, just in case her husband is reading this, he could be the jealous kind, not wishing to share his Doris. Doris is not a nubile young thing trying to turn my head, Doris is 80 and maybe more. Though if she is younger I hope she will forgive me, I can talk what with my silver hair, or white if you are unkind.

So I had popped into the churchyard and part on my routine and was about to sit on my John Thomas Beddall bench when I spotted Doris, so I said hello again and sat down. Am I lying really and is she a nubile young thing with legs up to her armpits with an innocent smile above a heaving chest. No she is not, beside I’m only attracted to Orientals. Doris really is a little old lady, we’ve exchanged a few greeting on the high street, and she has a great smile, she twinkles, she has a good sense of humour too.

So I sat by Doris and said hello again, last time we met was at the GPs when I had to take my small daughter for her tetanus injection, which turned out to be 2 injections, they gave her the kissing virus injection too. You know the one students get before going to University, meninajarvirus injection or some other name. Then Doris had met my small daughter while she was looking for a dustbin, now she met me again.

I told Doris my other daughter was having a look at Birmingham University along with the small daughter she had already met. I had rung my Oriental wife, Shanghai that is, with some news when a pigeon poohed on my wife as I shared the news. My Irish mother would have said that was good luck. I hope my mother is right, we’ll find out on Monday. Meanwhile my girls went to Ying Yip to spend the vouchers my wife had won at the Birmingham Chamber of Commerce dinner, so a very big thank you to them. My wife is world famous now in some quarters of Birmingham, a small sprat in the fishbowl.

A man passed by in the churchyard, he reminded me of the Postman I stumbled into on my wedding day, the Postman had said I was Shanghaied and of course he was right. So I asked was he him, it turned out he was not, though he has jade beads on one wrist. He turns out to have a connection with the churchyard, so I recommend my neighbour for any gardening requirements. The man who was not a postman turns out to be a local property man, he said he had 3 houses, so God Bless him.

Meanwhile me and Doris alighted on Round the Horne, I told her I was a bit of a Julian though my hair was once a bit Sandy, she laughed so encouraged I continued that my Sandy was a bit Julian, and I was a Bona writer. Now this 80 something was tickled, the rest of you might think we had had too many Lucozades or being chewing too much Wrigleys. I asked her had she seen that man again, no not the man who was not the postman, but ITMA, Its That Man Again, a famous radio show. You can all discover audio on Utube, it will illuminate my back passage to where my comedy stems from.

It turns out that Doris has a typewriter, I swooned. I hope you are a speed typist, I explained I had another full length novel in me. If only I could recline like Dame Barbara Cartland and recite my next 600 page full length novel, Tears for a Butcher to Doris ready at her keyboard. Sadly Doris was not open to my proposition, at 80 she could not keep up with to torrent. I asked did she have a child, but she did not. So my idea was stillborn.

We bantered away while her milk curdled in her wheellie shopping bag, then I departed I had to do a bit of shopping, non Chinese food shopping that is. I said to the strawberry salesman in the church grounds that me and Doris might run away together on the no.11 bus. Doris just remarked I was definitely a Julian and not a Sandy, whatever that meant.

Doris was not on the bench the following day, but there was a Korean girl sitting there, she said she was the cleaner where Doris lived, and you have guessed it, she was also a speed typist, 150 words a minute. Doris had sent her along, with instructions, look for the fat silver haired writer in shades from the churchyard. He’s a bit of a Julian but you’ll have a Sandy experience with him if you type Tears for a Butcher for him, whatever does Doris mean? 














Portuguese Translations

Humour Writing by the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England read in 167 countries so far https://www.amazon.co.uk/Micha...