09/01/2020
15/01/2020
Sign up to our newsletter
He was seven and I was six, my Brendon Gallacher.He was Irish and I was Scottish, my Brendon Gallacher.His father was in prison; he was a cat burglar.
It's New Year, 1979, at Funderland in the RDS in Dublin. In the cold calculation of the January air, a young girl tries to talk
I like to stay upand listenwhen big people talkingjumbie stories
I does feelso tingly and excitedinside me
But when my mother say“Girl, time for bed”