The Price of Him

– Uch, Nuala. How’s you, love?
– Aye, not too bad Maureen, I suppose.
– What about your Martin, Nuala? Is he over his legs, from that time?
– I haven’t a clue. Sure he left me in January.
– He what? Jesus, I didn’t hear that. I’m sorry, love.
– Took up with some English doll he met when he was in drying out. My heart was broke, Maureen.
– I’m sure it was.
– I cried morning, noon and night. I wanted to die.
– Jesus, Nuala love.
– But then I won eighty pound on the bingo, so I did.
– Ah well. Eighty pound. Well done.
– Thanks Maureen.