Free Conna in Crisis & The Marriage of Ulick by James Kilcullen Page B

came closer.
    Dandaboy smiled. ‘We go out back door; cross wooden bridge over river and head for Maam Cross. Come, we go.’
    He opened the back door quietly, put his hand on Setanta’s back making him invisible. They passed through the closing cordon and crossed the rickety bridge over the river. Standing on the other side, looking back at the invaders about to enter the house, Dandaboy had a wicked thought; he took his hand off Setanta’s back and whistled to attract their attention.
    They turned and charged towards the bridge. Four of them tried to cross together. By the time they reached the centre it was shaking violently—then it collapsed and, with loud shouts and some bad words, they disappeared into the rushing waters below.
    Setanta was very impressed. ’That was a good one Dan Dan; hop up on my back and we’ll go for a chase in the country.’
    Off they galloped. The troops weren’t giving up that easily. Racing to their cars they drove around to the main road and took off after them. At the same time they alerted some of their colleagues in Maam Cross to drive towards Conna, thus trapping Setanta. Their orders were not to come back without the wild animal.
    Two miles from Conna—with three cars in hot pursuit—Dandaboy told Setanta to turn down a narrow—rocky, pot-holed—road that ran towards the lake. The cars had to slow down. Setanta raced along the grass margin, but he was getting tired. Dandaboy waved his tiny hand and a great fog descended on the area. Their pursuers had to stop and follow on foot. Directed by Dandaboy, Setanta headed across the bogs. He slowed to a walk.
    ‘That was a good one Dan Dan,’ He panted.
    In the distance they could hear their pursuers using very bad words when they stumbled into bog holes.
    Dandaboy grinned. ‘Let’s go home.’
    *
    U nder the watchful eye of Madame, Maggot opened his shop. Taking his stick of chalk, he would normally write up his prices on the front window; this morning he wrote “Maggot’s ram is losing it—no longer held on a tight rein—all offerings gratefully accepted.” By the time his first customer, Ella, arrived, he had placed a box on the counter marked “Offerings.”
    ‘What can I get you Ella?’ he asked, watching Madame enter the shop.
    ‘Six nice lamb chops, Maggot, if you please and a bone for Setanta,’ she smiled.
    He took a leg of lamb from the freezer.
    ‘Isn’t it great weather we’re having; we could do with a few tourists. I don’t know where they’re going, but they’re not coming to Connemara.’
    He cut up the chops and weighed them. Then he added a large bone. Madame watched closely while Ella took out her purse.
    ‘How much, Maggot?’ she asked.
    He grinned.
    ‘I’m no longer selling meat but, if you wish, you can put an offering in the box.’
    Ella, aware Madame was standing behind her, was getting the picture. She took out a 10 euro note.’
    ‘Would this be enough?’ she asked holding her hand over the box.
    ‘Whatever you say, Ella,’ he handed over her parcel.
    ‘Jane will be over with the order for the restaurant shortly.’
    ‘That’s fine, I’ll look after her.’
    She smiled and departed. He made a little note in his note book—I owe Ella 2 euro.
    Madame marched forward and screamed at him.
    ‘What do you mean selling meat? I closed down these premises. Close immediately or I will call in the guards.’
    He smiled at her. ’As you can see, if you still have that capacity, I no longer sell meat. So, your Directive doesn’t apply to these premises.’
    She wasn’t for turning.
    ‘I say the Directive applies: I am the law here; close these premises immediately.’
    Two more customers arrived; Battler Barry was one of them.
    ‘Having problems, Maggot?’ he asked.
    ‘No, Battler.’
    He turned to Madame. ’Ulick Joyc has examined your Directive. I’m entitled to give away as much meat as I like. I think you should leave now, unless you’d like some free meat.’
    The mention