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Прах Анджелы

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who had a drink
in a pub.
Ma, I earned a shilling.
Take tuppence, Frankie,
and take Malachy to the Lyric.
You’re a treasure, Frankie.
You deserve it.
God above,
look at those eyes.
Frankie!
Frankie!
A shilling from Mr. Hannon,
and four shillings in tips.
Will you go to that mirror
and look at your eyes?
Oh, jeez.
That’s the end of it.
No more Mr. Hannon.
Mr. Hannon needs me.
I’m sorry
for Mr. Hannon’s troubles,
but we have troubles
of our own.
And the last thing I need
is a blind son.
Now, wash your eyes,
and you can go to the Lyric.
Malachy, what’s happening?
The man in the hat is sticking a gold
dagger into the nice lady’s belly.
– Is there blood all over?
– No. She’s showing a magic ring.
I can’t see a thing.
The doctor said...
this was the worst case of
conjunctivitis he’d ever seen.
How long will he be in, Doctor?
Only God knows that,
woman.
I should have seen
this child months ago.
My working days were over.
Eyes wide open.
Wider. Wide as you can.
– Ow, Ma!
– If only dad was here.
He’s not coming, Mam.
He might be asleep
in one of the carriages.
Come on, Mam. Let’s go home.
He’s not coming.
He definitely said in his letter
two days before Christmas.
Maybe the boat
from Holyhead was late.
That could make you
miss your train.
The Irish Sea’s desperate
this time of year.
He doesn’t care about us.
He’s over there drunk in England.
Don’t talk about
your father like that.
– Boots!
– Me! Me!
Next.
And where’s the husband?
He’s in England, sir.
England, is it?
And where’s the weekly telegram?
The big five pounds?
He didn’t send us a penny
in months, sir.
Well, we all probably
know why, don’t we?
No, sir.
We all know there’s more than
an occasional Limerick man...
been seen trotting around with
a Piccadilly tart, don’t we?
He’s not in Piccadilly, sir.
He’s in Coventry.
Mam went begging
again at the St. Vincent de Paul.
She got a food voucher so that at least
we could have a Christmas dinner.
And then, on Christmas Eve,
our neighbor,
Walter the horse, died.
And our dad came home.
It’s Pa!
Dad! Dad!
Hey.
– We were expecting you yesterday.
– Aye, well.
Jesus and Mary,
what have you done to yourself?
Well, that Irish Sea
was very rough, you know.
Bumped my head.
Nearly fell over the side.
Wouldn’t be a fight, would it?
Wouldn’t be the drink?
You said you’d
bring us something.
Well, uh,
I have.
Got a bit peckish
on the boat, did you?
We’ll have them tomorrow
after our Christmas dinner.
Did you bring any money?
You drank the money,
didn’t you?
Well, times are hard, Angela.
Jobs are scarce.
– You drank the money, Da?
– You drank the money.
So they have no respect
for their father now, eh?
– I have to go and see a man.
– Go and see a man,
but don’t be coming home drunk,
singing your stupid songs.
Eat something.
It’s Christmas.
I’m not hungry.
But if no one wants them,
I’ll have one of them sheep’s eyes.
– Oh, not the eyes, Dad.
– Da, don’t.
– Oh, Dad, don’t.
– What’s the matter with you?
You’re not going to eat that,
are you? Oh!
Dad, oh, yuck.
– You’re disgusting.
– Lovely.
There’s great nourishment
in the eyes.
Right.
Where are you going?
Going to London.
On Christmas Day?
It’s the best day
to travel.
People in motorcars
are always willing to give...
the working man
a lift to Dublin.
Think of all the hard times
of the Holy Family and feel guilty.
How will you get
to Holyhead?
Same way I came.
There’s always a time
when no one’s looking.
Right.
You be good boys, eh?
Say your prayers.
Obey your mother.
I’ll write.
Here, pass them down.
Mmm. I got a nut.
I didn’tget a nut.
How come Frankie always gets a nut?
Nuts are good
for sore eyes.
I’ve a Turkish Delight.
Will the nut make his eyes better?
’Twill.
One eye or two eyes?
Two eyes, I think.
Frankie, if I had a nut,
I’d give it to you. I would, really.
Mam, can me and Michael
have another chocolate? Just the one.
Прах Анджелы Прах Анджелы

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