‘Zeb did this?’

‘Yeah. He had a few nurses too, preparing the follicles. Students I think.’

‘This is not a bad job,’ says Connie, squinting. ‘I’ve seen plenty of hair plugs before, but this is good. Nice spread and no scars. What is it, rat hair?’

I am genuinely horrified. ‘Rat? Christ, Connie. It’s my own hair. Transplants from the back. They’ll fall out in a couple of weeks, then the new hair grows in.’

Connie shrugs. ‘I hear they’re using rat now. Dog too. Tough as wire, apparently.’

I reclaim the cap, spreading it over my crown like a salve. ‘No canine or rodent. Irish human only.’

‘Yeah, well it looks okay. Another session and you won’t know the difference.’

I sigh like it’s cost me a lot of dollars, which it has. ‘That’s the idea.’

I roll the hat back down and take Connie’s elbow, steering her back to the floor.

A Formica bar, low lighting that’s more cheap than fashionable. A roulette wheel that bucks with every spin, two worn baize card tables and half a dozen slots. Slotz.

‘Here,’ she says. ‘Take fifty. You squeezed it out of him.’

I fold the note back into her hand. ‘It was a pleasure, darlin’. The day he licks my arse is the day I take fifty.’

Connie laughs full and throaty and something stirs in my stomach. ‘Oh, baby. The day he licks your arse is the day I buy tickets to witness the consequences.’

She’s back on an even keel, but it’s temporary; this place really takes it out of decent people. A toll on the soul.

‘You okay to go back on the floor?’

‘Sure, darlin’. You know Victor will dock me for the whole night if I quit now.’

I lean down to whisper in her ear, smelling her perfume, noticing not for the first time how long her neck is. Feeling her peppermint breath brushing my cheek. Remembering.

‘Between the two of us, Victor is also a galloping gobshite.’