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…

Long, Luas and Full of Juice: Few hits the road. Chapter 4.

Few has been summoned to Belfast by his “associates”.  He’s cagey as fuck, won’t tell me who they are. He’s nervous too. He’s shaking. More than usual anyway. I cajole him into taking the train. Not easy. He’s worried about riffraff. The great unwashed. And other piquant sobriquets. Eventually we find ourselves waiting at Smithfield Luas….