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card in the air.’
    When the room had settled, there were two people left standing in the hall. Agnes looked across the room at the other checker. She knew her. It was was Pauline Dunne and she too was from The Jarro. She had five children, two of them grown up and three youngsters, and her husband had fecked off five or six years previously with the cleaner from Foley’s pub. They’d gone to England. It was the talk of the area at the time. Pauline had just carried on and made a few bob for herself by filling the gap the young girl had left in Foley‘s, where Pauline was now a valued member of staff.
    Both women were shaking. Agnes smiled nervously at Pauline and Pauline returned the smile along with a little wave.
    Both checks were adjudged to be correct and the record Snowball of £620 was divided equally between the two women. To the delight of Agnes’s group, the bingo organisers also gave a five-pound note to each of the five in Agnes’s group and to the five people sitting around Pauline Dunne as a winning bonus. The smoked cod and chips never tasted as good as they did that night on the walk back to 92 James Larkin Court, and as if in repayment for the five-pound notes the entire group left Agnes to her front door to ensure that she got home safely. She invited them in for a cup of tea, but they all declined. As soon as she entered the flat she put the kettle on and sneaked into the boys’ bedroom. She noticed Frankie’s bunk was empty, then she leaned into the middle bunk and shook Mark.
    ‘Mark, Mark, love - wake up.’
    Mark woke gently. He had his back to her so he had to look over his shoulder to see who was shaking him. Once he recognised his mother he turned slowly. ‘Mammy, are yeh all right?’
    ‘I’m grand, love! Come out to the kitchen, I want to show you something.’
    ‘Is Frankie in trouble?’
    Agnes shook her head vigorously. ‘No, no it’s nothin’ like that. I want to show you somethin’ good!’
    ‘Okay.’
    ‘Well, come on, then.’ She waited for him.
    There was a moment’s silence before Mark said, ‘Ma, I have nothin’ on me.’
    Agnes jumped. ‘Oh sorry, love. I’ll be in the kitchen. I’ll make a cup of tea. Follow me out.’
    Agnes made a swift exit, reflecting on her way how short the time was between a younger Mark saying, ‘Mammy, why have I got hair on me willie?’ and now, ‘Mammy, wait outside, I’ve nothing on.’ It seemed to have been particularly short for Mark.
    Mark was still a bit groggy when he came into the kitchen, though his eyes opened wide when he saw the six huge fifty-pound notes and the tenner spread across the table. He froze and stared at them. Then it dawned on him. ‘You won the fuckin’ Snowball!’
    ‘Mind your language, son!’
    ‘Sorry, Ma. Congratulations!’
    He took her in his arms and snuggling his nose between her earlobe and her neck squeezed her tightly. Agnes closed her eyes and thought he might look like a man, he might talk like a man, but he still hugged her like a child.
    Mark sat down and began to drink the tea his mother . had made. For a while the two of them just sat in silence staring at the money.
    ‘Three hundred and ten pounds!’ Mark said, and he giggled.
    ‘Yeh!’ Agnes giggled too.
    ‘What are yeh goin’ to do with it, Ma?’
    ‘I don’t know. Yeh don’t think I’ve just been sittin’ around plannin’ how to spend the Snowball, do yeh?’
    They heard the letterbox open and both of them looked at the door. Frankie’s nicotine-stained fingers poked in and wrapped around the piece of wool that held the door key. Slowly the key began to rise until it disappeared out the letterbox. Quickly Agnes gathered up the money and moved to the sink where her handbag was. She had the money put away and the handbag snapped shut before the front door opened. Frankie closed the door and pulled the key back in the letterbox. As he entered the kitchen he was a bit startled to find Agnes and Mark sitting drinking