A Man With One of Those Faces (Dublin Trilogy publication order, #1; Dublin Trilogy chronological order, #6)

by Caimh McDonnell

“The French may be a shower of goat-bothering cheese-sniffers, but they can do bread.”

The woman had given birth to and raised four kids, all of whom he loved and three of whom he liked.

In her experience, the mirrors in shops lied and could not be trusted. Only the one in her flat told the truth, harsh as it often was.

“I’m saying something here stinks worse than a wino’s arse on Sunday.”

“Nothing wrong with it,” said Dorothy. “Jenny Clarke was one, mucking fine girl. Very practical people. In my experience, you cannot beat a lesbian in a crisis.”

Through an extensive trawling of second-hand record stores over the last three years, Paul had managed to find vinyl copies of ten of the eleven studio albums the Monkees had recorded, the one exception being the 1970 release Changes. It was hard to get hold of second-hand, mainly because nobody had bought it first-hand.

Do you know what I’ve never heard any of them say ever? ‘It’s complicated.’ That’s because, when you look back at it, it almost never is. Nuclear physics is complicated. The middle east is complicated. Our lives? They’re actually pretty damn simple, we just somehow make them difficult for ourselves.

Then the baby would kick and she’d remember her current state and how, if she really were on a beach, Greenpeace would soon show up and try and roll her back into the sea.

“You pulled a baby out of the lady, Wilson, you’re allowed to be on first name terms now, I think.”