Winterwood Read Free

first of the angels got chased, as he might have put it himself, since the very first angel was fucked out
     of heaven!
    Now and then it would occur to me that something he'd said - or the manner in which he'd said it — somehow just didn't seem
     to fit. That he'd been trying too hard to impress me or something. Sometimes he'd even mimic my accent to my face. Other times there'd be this look — I didn't like
     it. It made me feel queasy, ill-at-ease.
    There was one particular evening - I find it humiliating to recall. He rested his chin on his hand and pulled his chair up
     next to mine. Then grinned.
    —Your father and me went to the ceilidh in Athleague. Your Uncle Florian was there. Boys, we drank more porter that evening
     so we did. And then we started into the hornpipes. Florian took his britches down and began to dance in the middle of the
     hall. Boys, me and your auld fellow we had ourselves a laugh! Because Florian, as you know, was a divil for the dancing. There
     wasn't a hornpipe in the book but he knew. And your father too, he had his moments. Oh, yes, me auld son, Daddy Hatch and
     his brother Florian were well known in this valley. You should be proud of them, they were a credit to the mountain, your
     beloved caring family. Even if they did put you into the orphanage — ha ha!
    He didn't flinch for a second. I could feel my cheeks burning. He just sat there twinkling, saying nothing at all. I was on
     the verge of protesting when, out of the blue, he lifted his leg, his shoulders heaving as he blithely expelled wind.
    —A reg'lar arse-cracker — the best today!
    Before I could say anything he had opened another bottle of clear.
    When I looked up again the sun's pale fire was lighting up the sky.
    In the aftermath of our 'session', I attributed my reticence to my predictable, pedantic, assumed new suburbanism. I'd simply
     been away too long, I reasoned, and had become more or less disconnected, alienated from the life I'd once known, as it once
     had been lived on the bare and barren mountain, in a sleepy little town which didn't even feature on the map. I had lost the
     skills. I hadn't it in me. I was much too conscious of embarrassment and unpleasantness. And he knew it. He knew I'd do almost
     anything to avoid confrontation. Which suited his purposes admirably, indeed perfectly. There was nothing he liked more than
     playing games.
    To put it plainly, he was amusing himself. Toying with me, really — what else could you call it?
    I consoled myself by thinking that if I had become debilitatingly civilised and grown apart from my people and background,
     then at least I wasn't alone, for everyone in the valley was doing exactly that — if the gaudy identikit housing was anything
     to go by, not to mention the transatlantic accents and the sprawling housing developments, with names more appropriate to
     Surrey than Slievenageeha: 'Meadow Vale', 'Primrose Demesne', 'The Chantries'.
    Which was why Ned, unencumbered as he was by any new and imported orthodoxy, had, by common consent, come to embody the authentic
     spirit of heritage and tradition. It was as if it had been decided that simply having Ned was sufficient. That was enough
     to keep them in touch with their fast-fading traditions and customs of the past.
    — Chuck chuckl you'd hear them laughing, as yet another 'Ned story' was uproariously related.
    —My mother used to keep chickens too, you know, in our own backyard, way back when times were simpler.
    —Isn't it great all the same, to have someone like Ned? Otherwise our kids would never know anything about our history.
    —Sometimes I think we're losing our soul, do you know that Mrs?
    —Not while Ned is here to remind us. He'll make sure we don't lose our way.
    —Now you're talking. 'The Pride of Erin' and 'Jenny's Chickens'.
    'Jenny's Chickens' — that was another favourite reel of his.
    — Chuck chuckl they'd laugh.
    — Chuck chuck chuck\
    — Chuck chuck chuck, thank God for