City Break: Few’s Lost Weekend. Chapter 5.

We are approaching Belfast, evening falls, the crows call out a warning. I’ve got an uneasy feeling. Few is drunk, or merry anyway. Merry in a morose way. Maudlin. The phone rings. I put it on speaker. “The Few”, a thick guttural accent, hard to place exactly but Munster somewhere. Suddenly Few is alert, and…