She'd leave the record off for a while then she'd go in and put it on again. Anytime you'd come in, from school or anything, it would be on. And ma singing away out in the scullery.

After all this her new name should have been Ma Whiz. One minute she'd say I see Mrs Connolly has a lovely new coat then before you had time to answer she said are they turning off the town water or something about the hospital when I was born. Then off she'd go again rolling pastry and stacking butterfly buns on tray after tray.

The house was full of cakes.

Full of cakes for Uncle Alo, I said.

That's right she says, Alo loves cakes. If that's one thing your Uncle loves its cake.

And butterfly buns, I said.

You're right, she said, I'll make some more.

It got so bad you nearly had to tunnel your way into the house with all the cakes. A few times I knew da was about to say: Stop singing that cursed song! But he didn't in case whiz she'd be off to the garage again. He just went off to the Tower instead and didn't come back till after closing time.

I saw Philip Nugent on his way to music with his crocodile-skin music case. He stopped outside the home bakery and waited there for a minute. Then she came out and I saw her looking towards me. She handed Philip a white cardboard box the kind they used for the cakes. She was handing it to him real slow. Poor old Nugent – she really thought I cared about her and her cake. I had to laugh. Us with enough cakes to feed an army! It seemed like years and years ago I had cared about anything to do with Nugent. I didn't even bother going near them. I just turned on my heel and off I went, still laughing. Mrs Nugent would have a long wait before she ever caught me worrying about the likes of her again.

Ten men under him, I said to Joe.

Joe whistled and sent a flat stone skimming down the river.

Ten, he said, ten whole men. That's hard to beat Francie.

There's going to be some party in our house that night Joe, says I.

The Alo party says Joe.

The party to end them all, I said.

Whee-hoo! cried Joe and a big shower of spiky sunlight arrows coming through the gaps in the trees when you chinked your eyes.

The nights before Alo came I didn't sleep a wink thinking about him. We'd be coming down the street and there'd be Nugent. She'd be mad for us to talk to her. Who's that woman Alo would say to me in his English accent, she keeps looking over. I don't know, I'd say, I never seen her before in my life. Then we'd walk on until she was a speck standing in Fermanagh Street. Then it started all over again with me and Alo on the Diamond getting ready to set off once more down the street and Mrs Nugent trying to attract our attention. Please Francie, I'll give you anything she'd say. Sorry I'd say, too late. Then I'd cut her off and say: What was that you were saying Uncle Alo?

The town was quiet after the bars closed. All you could hear was Grouse Armstrong howling away.

You know what he's saying when he does that says Joe.

No, I says, what.

How the fuck do I know I don't know dog language says Joe.

I COULD HEAR VOICES. THERE WAS SOMEONE OUTSIDE THE HIDE. It was Buttsy from the mountains. Mrs Nugent was his sister. He was in a bad way poor old Buttsy. He looked like a priest on the cover of Africa magazine with his freckles and the carrot hair falling down over his eyes. Peepil please help me build my hospital. But all Buttsy cared about hospitals now was putting me into one. He kept shouting out: Brady! Then he'd light a fag and I could see his hand was shaking. Devlin kept saying to him: Don't worry Buttsy we'll find him he can't have gone far. He had a pain in his head I could tell from the way he kept rubbing over his eye. Soon says Devlin, we'll have him and we can do what we like with him. The whole town wants him to get what he deserves. If we get our hands on him before the police I know what we'll do with him, we'll drown him Buttsy what about that?, Devlin said. But Buttsy had more sense. He knew they were only wasting their time if they hadn't found me by now they weren't going to, them or the police. He just sat there by the river with his elbow on his knee and an inch of ash hanging from the fag. The bastard must have come out this way, Devlin said, poking about in the bushes with a stick. Hey Brady! he called again. It triple-echoed across the mountains. If you're in them woods Brady you better come out. But it was no use so in the end they just went back towards the town.

When they were gone I came out and stuck my face into the river. Hey fish I said are you there? Yoo-hoo!

Come out you bastards!

THE CAKES WERE STACKED IN TOWERS ON THE CHAIRS. THERE were some on top of the wardrobe and the washing machine. There were ones with icing and without, all decorated with hundreds and thousands and marzipan and different kinds of designs. I had a hard job keeping all the flies away. I went at them with the rolled-up Irish Press. Back, dogs! I said. I had to make sure they didn't manage to land on the icing at all because if they did you couldn't hit them in case you'd break up the cake altogether. Would you like another slice of cake Francis? said ma from the scullery. I didn't. I had already had eight. I went off up the town and anybody I met I told them about Alo. Then I came back down again: Any sign of him yet? Whiz away off again. It was the best time in the town for a long while. The breadman skipped into the shop with a tray of fresh loaves wrapped in holly paper. Children tossed pebbles and watched them ping off the fountain's big white crocus of ice. Please give a little it could help a lot the radio said. When I got home ma was wearing white gloves of flour and rolling more pastry just in case we run out she said. Then the car pulled up outside and in they came, Mary from the sweetshop and everybody popping corks and dusting snow off collars. I couldn't take my eyes off Alo. Sure enough he had the red hankie in his breast pocket and the trousers of his blue pinstripe suit had a crease would cut your hand. His steel-grey hair was neatly combed in two neat wings behind his ears. He stood proudly by the fireplace and I thought to myself Nugent? Hah! Nugent has nobody like him. I felt like cheering. Welcome to the cake house said ma, that's what you call this place, wiping her hands on her apron. Call it what you like, home I call it smiled Alo and gave her a big hug. Da was late but the party started anyway. Here's to Christmas and all in this room, he beamed and raised his whiskey glass.

Now you said it Alo, they said, to the man himself, Alo Brady.

Ah yes, says Alo, yes indeed and swirled the whiskey in his glass.

Where does the time go, where does it go at all? Twenty years in Camden Town this Winter, would you believe it?

You'll never come back now Alo.

Come back? What'd take him back, am I right Alo? He has it far too good over there.

Ten men under him, called ma from the scullery.

God bless all here said Alo and long may they prosper.

I still couldn't stop looking at him, the gold tiepin and his polished nails, the English voice. Nugent's was only half-English. The more you thought it the harder it was to believe that Nugent had ever been anything worth talking about. Ah yes, he went on, I'll never forget it. Euston Station, London town!

A big spot Alo, you were a long way from the town then!

Nothing only my coat and case, what have I let myself in for I said.

The streets of Piccadilly, Alo!