He closed his eyes, indicating consent, and the ensuing procedure took several difficult minutes.

«How are things in our pob?» he inquired quietly.

«Dad, you have to say «pub’», she softly corrected him.

«Not a chance! «Pubs’ are English boozers. Ours is an Irish pob! How is business going?»

«It’s all going well, Dad. Great, even! They all told me to give you their regards and wish you a speedy recovery. It’s just that…»

«Just what?» Kevin asked, a shade uneasily.

«The barmen are offended that we don’t allow them to take tips from customers. They complain that they give it their all like factory workers, but that if they worked elsewhere they’d be earning more money to live on…»

«You know, Erin,» he interrupted her, «some people think that just fulfilling their everyday duties at work is some sort of great feat. When generally, to be honest, I’m only ever satisfied with their work. You remind them that in Irish pobs you never ever take tips. Tell you what, daughter… Increase their pay by 20%. I want them to be happy… We’re like a family.»

«That is generous, to say the least. Fine, Dad, so it shall be,» she gave him an obedient nod of her head.

«Have you managed to hire another two waitresses? Remember? You told me you would.»

«Yes, last week eight hopefuls came. They filled in application forms. Going off how they described themselves, you’d think they knew this job well. But really, they couldn’t even hold a tray properly.»

«Erin, you’ve got to be more realistic; don’t try to find ideal staff. Where can they be found in a country as obviously imperfect as this one?»

«Eventually I did find two waitresses, but it wasn’t easy. I am not letting them serve people yet, I want them to have a bit of preparation first. One of them, to be honest, is not very bright, but she has cooking experience. It would be best if I could try to use her potential there…»

«You’ve become a good manager, Erin! And I’m glad that you have done a good job of covering for me for six months now, since these terrible headaches started.»

«I had to do it! Work brings me joy. In the end, this is our business, our family business. And I’m proud of it!»

«And I’m proud of you, Erin…» then he groaned heavily, closing his eyes as he did so, «the pain… It’s killing me…» a nurse ran in and injected something into his veins, and this soon relieved the pain. But for how long? When the nurse came back again about five minutes later and asked how the sick man was feeling, he smiled at her and responded with a question of his own:

«I’m fine, thank you! I was just wondering as to the chances of success if I hit on you, my Miss Lifesaver?» and what life suddenly returned to his eyes! Obviously, he was in suffering, but he retained his manliness and the smile on his gaunt face. Erin was aggravated by his words, and she feared the nurse would not see the funny side either. She lowered her eyes, and her pretty face blushed crimson.

«That someone as macho as you could succeed is beyond doubt!» the nurse answered without thinking twice, breaking into a smile. Seeing Erin’s agitated face, she added relaxedly: «It’s ok for patients to do that, Miss… Get well soon, Mister O’Brian! If you need me again, you know where the button is,» and leaving his white walled room, furnished with electronics, and the increasingly visible crack in the ceiling, she noiselessly shut the door behind her.

«By the way, Erin» he addressed his daughter. «At my funeral, I want you to pour a bottle of Irish whiskey on my grave.»

«Dad, there you go again!»

«Will you do that? Look at me!» he demanded half seriously, half-jokingly.

«Well, if you want me to…» she answered dutifully, not anticipating the wisecrack on his part, and hurriedly looked at the floor.

«Thank you, and in return, I won’t object if it has passed through your young kidneys first…» he laughed noiselessly, almost guffawing.

Erin perked up, «You’re cracking jokes now, that’s a good sign!»

«I see how you enjoy my irony. Or my sarcasm… But let’s be serious now, daughter, what is there left to hide from, you know my diagnosis. The massaging of my arms and legs torments me constantly, it has no other purpose than to stop premature atrophy. I’m so humiliated when strangers clean my teeth every morning, wash my head, feed me from little spoons, wipe my backside with wet wipes and change my nappies. And my condition can only get worse. By the day. Everyone knows this already… Soon I’ll start getting bedsores too…»

«Dad, please…» said Erin, with a pleading look.

«The future looks grim for me… Will you do nothing?» Kevin sighed and looked at his daughter carefully.

«Your masculine character always made you different. You had a lot to get through, but despite it all, you still came through it as strong as an oak tree. Support Mum, she is finding it very hard to take all of this. And promise me, please, that you won’t grieve my passing too much, whatever happens. Life is a beautiful thing, and you have to enjoy it. I love you…»

«We need you, Dad! We all need you!» She looked at her father with a pleading look in her eyes.

«Come on, stop crying! You’re a big girl now! And remember, I’ll still be with you, even after I have left this earth. I’ll be looking down on all of you from behind the clouds, and if any dark clouds come, I’ll chase them away.»

Erin sat in silence, she turned her head to the window, which looked out onto the hospital’s inner courtyard. Fragile rays of early spring sunshine continued to penetrate through the window into the wardroom. Thank God it was now mid-March, winter had passed! Nature, having grown tired of either the infrequent wintry snows, or the frequent showers of rain, had now begun its renewal. The surroundings had taken on an air of cheeriness, even joyfulness, and had begun to shine, as if in a new coat of bright paint. The sky was now blue, and the smell of spring was in the air. Even the birds had now returned, and the pleasant sensation of change had stirred them too. They were bustling and singing, overjoyed at the long-awaited warmth. The trees had cast away their grey coatings and were now basking in the sun’s heat. Soon the first little leaves would come, the grass would grow greener and there would come the long-awaited revival. Maybe all anxieties and disappointments would finally disappear along with the last of the quickly melting snow? Her disciplined imaginations were now being confronted by sobering reality, and, understanding that the result of this story was a foregone conclusion, she still, for the hundredth or even the thousandth time, hoped for an act of mercy from the gods, for a miracle, which had still got to happen, in the name of upholding a trampled justice. For it was only this miracle that could bring her dear father an unexpected escape from this horrible disease.

«When was the last time you saw Rachel?» the voice of her father distracted her from her dismal train of thought.

«I went to the hospital at the start of the week. But she didn’t want to see me. The doctors say her condition is slowly getting worse.»

«Again?» he asked anxiously.

«Yes. Delusional thoughts and hallucinations again. I was told she got alcohol from somewhere and was openly making advances on the doctor, and was trying obscene acts on people…»

«Stop it, please, Erin,» his face grimaced in pain, «I can’t hear any more of this about my own daughter… Can you adjust my cushions a bit, I’m too low down.» She carefully plumped up his cushions so that he could lie more comfortably, not forgetting to kiss him on the forehead while she did so. Then she straightened out the wrinkles in the woollen blankets, out from under which tubes of liquid led under the bed. «And, if you can, please give me something to drink, Erin.» Here she held to his lips a transparent container with a tube running from it.

«What is this?»

«Water, Dad, like you asked for», she answered helpfully.

«There’s not even enough here to christen a witch,» he joked, without success.

She raised his head slightly and he, hiding his strain, slurped a few sips of water from the tube. He then made a surprised face, but across which suddenly a smile appeared once more: «Yes, this actually is water…»

«What were you expecting?»

«I was so hoping that for his day, Saint Patrick would make a miracle and turn this water into whisky.»

Smiles appeared on both their faces again.

«And yourself, how do you feel?» he asked.

«I’m alright, Dad. I went to the doctor’s a few weeks ago. They said I am fine. They even permitted me to do sport.»

«You’re going to the horse-riding club again?»

«I really want to do it again! I really enjoy it, but I haven’t been there for a while. A world of horses… And I really miss my Beowolf!»

«Beowolf is the very same thoroughbred racer that you talk about so much?»

«Yes. And he’s missed me, I’m sure, and he will have missed the horseracing and jumping. He loves those things!»

«Thank God! And what about your personal life, daughter? Is there any news that I’ll be overjoyed to hear? You must have a bloke by now! Well go on, spit it out!»

«No. Things aren’t going as well there as at work. And I have no time for it at the moment.»

«It’s not about time. I know you. All the real, reliable men have simply disappeared. So… what, have they all died out? Like the mastodons? Their places have been taken over by self-indulgent adult-children. Don’t you think?»

«Dad, I promise that when my searching yields results, you’ll be the first to know.»

«So, you mean that you’ve decided to search for a mastodon?» he grunted unpleasantly, «If so then I fear you’ll not be having results soon.»

«To be honest, the men I meet are young, and pretend to be of impeccable upbringing and venerable background. But then I see they’re just haughty, blue eyed snobs with crooked teeth and, sorry, but bad breath. And some of them would be nothing if it wasn’t for their parents’ chequebooks. You know, the more I get to know the world, the less I think I can find a man I can love truly…»

«These youngsters spend twelve years at boarding school, where they are whipped for walking out of step, and so they lose their independence of thought. And as a result, they consider us Irish to be good for nothing except drunken dancing. You’re a very smart girl, Erin. You understand how people work. But you also must listen to your heart… Often it is only the heart, not cold calculation, that tells us what to do next…»

«Yes of course, Dad. I have decided that, when my heart starts to beat faster, this is a signal that the man of my dreams is in front of me, a real and whole souled man, like you, Dad… Someone who will not complain, won’t reproach anyone, or blame anyone for their failings.»

«I don’t doubt that you’ll find the right man in the end. Marriage is not a joke… It can change your life forever. But you will succeed. You deserve great happiness, Erin! Open your heart for the right person’s arrow. Just don’t forget, please, that whoever you choose, he must be…»

«Irish, Dad!» she stated firmly.

«Precisely! And what else?» Kevin quizzed her. His eyes stared straight into hers, reminding her that these criteria were of vital importance.

«And a Catholic!»

«Clever girl! These are the answers I was expecting. That you know them calms me,» he nodded with satisfaction. «Thank you, daughter!»

At that moment someone knocked timidly on the door, and came in without a hurry, his Kathryn.