“Phil, I need to speak to your uncle.” “You’ll be doing well, he’s dead.” “Oh, sorry.” “It was last year. He’d a dodgy ticker for a while, conked out on the job.” Paul, just placing the sling back over his shoulder, stopped and looked at Phil. “Do you mean?” Phil looked back at him as he again replayed what he’d just said in his head. “Ughhh – Lord no, not – ‘on the job’.” Phil threw in a couple of hip thrusts, to show he’d belatedly understood the mental image he’d created. “I mean, he was robbing a house out in Skerries. He liked to keep his hand in.” Legend had it that Paddy Nellis had been
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