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straightened in his seat.
    ‘And he said,’ went on Mick, ‘that I should bring along that bright nephew of mine to help me. “I’m sure,” he said, “the chiseler’d like to see the horses.” ‘
    Jimmy’s mouth dropped open. ‘Oh Mick,’ he said. ‘Are you codding?’
    It didn’t seem possible for Mick’s smile to get any bigger. ‘It’s true all right, young Jimmy,’ he said. ‘That’s if you want to go.’
    From her seat by the table Ma watched the transformation in Jimmy. His face lit up instantly, like thesun coming out from behind a cloud. The miserable thoughts of the last week were driven away. Nothing else could have had such an instant effect. Fairyhouse was special – so special that the thought of really going there left no room in Jimmy’s head for anything else at all.
    In his mind’s eye Jimmy saw himself already at the races, helping Mick in the stables, chatting to jockeys and to the rich men who owned the winning horses.
    Not one of the boys Jimmy knew had ever actually been to Fairyhouse. Paddy Doyle had gone there once, years and years ago. Tommy Doyle still boasted of the fact, and described all his father had seen as if he’d seen it himself. That was all very well … but to go there yourself! That was like a story that Jimmy might invent in the thinking game. No, though: even Jimmy would never let his imagination go that far. It was one thing to dream of killing dragons, but it was unthinkable that anyone would ever ask you to go to Fairyhouse for the races.
    ‘Well?’ he heard Mick asking, as though from far away. Mick’s voice sounded amused. ‘Do you want to go or not?’
    He must know how foolish the question was. Of course Jimmy wanted to go! Already he could imagine the scene in his mind’s eye. The races were on Easter Monday – in a week’s time. Dublin would be awful then, closed for the holiday. The Spring Show would be starting, but that would be miles away in Ballsbridge, and it would be mostly farmers and country people who came to see it. All the citypeople who could get away would be gone, and any who could afford it would be heading for the races.
    Fairyhouse would be packed with all the grandest people. Jimmy would see all the great gentlemen, and the army officers in their best dress uniforms, strolling with their ladies on their arms. They would be the kind of people who lived in big houses, with five rooms for each person instead of five people to each room. They would have servants to do all their work for them. They would eat strange foods that these servants prepared for them, in special rooms that were kept only to eat in.
    Jimmy knew that there really were people who lived like this, though he wasn’t clear about the details of their lives. He only knew that they were magnificent and rich. When they joined the army they became officers and rode horses, and gave orders to ordinary men like Da. They were better than people like Jimmy and his family, in some strange way that Jimmy could never quite understand. Sometimes he even thought that it was simply a case of their having more money; but he always felt that there was something vaguely sinful about thinking this, and mentioned it to no-one.
    Whatever the case might be, there was no doubt that Fairyhouse would be crammed with such glamorous people. Jimmy would see them all, and maybe some of them would even talk to him. When he got back afterwards, the other boys would beg him to tell them allabout it. He’d be a hero then, a boy who’d had a great adventure. His friends would boast to other boys about him. These other boys would look at him in awe, thinking how normal he looked for someone who’d had such great adventures. Meanwhile Jimmy, the soul of modesty, would try his best to act like just another human being, though inside himself he’d be burning with pride.
    Jimmy was so excited that he almost forgot to breathe. It would all be grand, better than walking behind fifty regimental