Deep in the depths of a dark, dark pool lives a water monster named Billy McCool. He's got shiny scales of pink candy ice and octopusy arms that he thinks very nice.
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.
That fire, they said, was red as red as red as red as a fox, your lips, a cherry; that fire, they said spread and spread and spread, faster than a cheetah or a nasty rumour;
At swimming once, I went to turn from front to back and just kept turning, just kept turning, turning over, over and over, till the swimming teacher said,
