There was no-one else in the barber shop and I thanked my lucky stars and looked around: three chairs facing the mirrors; a few seats for waiting customers; a little set of stairs leading up to darkness.

A small, plastic Christmas tree sat bravely beside the till, above a box of Carlsberg on the floor; apart from that the place was bare and functional. It gave me the sensation of stepping back in time, as did the smiling old gent gesturing for me to take a seat.

“The one beside the window, son. I see you got splashed by a bus.”

He had a reedy, whistling voice, like you could hear the pipes in his throat, and he busied himself with much snapping of towels and ostentatious clicking of scissors: like a matador teasing a bull.

Patrick Murphy: Why I’m ashamed to be a member of the GAA

Brian Feeney: Starmer making same mistakes as Thatcher over hunger strikers

“I can see out while I’m........

© The Irish News