The Grave Digger

*First Published By Lit Pot Publications 2002

Here they come now.

I'd better get out of the way. They don’t want to be seein’ no digger about the place, no, not at this time they don’t. Bit early for lunch but what the hell. I can keep an eye on 'em from up by the old oak.

They’ll be away soon enough and then I can get done.

Bloody back's acting up again this morning. That mist comin’ down off Black Mountain won't help things later on. Wonder if there’s any of that rubbin liniment left back ‘ome?

Not many of 'em come to see this one off. Pity the man.

Who is it then? Let's see. Hmmm.. plot 314.....Joseph Vaugn O'Farrell, aged forty five. That’s no time at all to be on this earth now is it.

That must be his wife being helped up the driveway. She looks rough. Taking it badly eh?

Maybe he wasn't insured. Naw...she'd have a face like thunder if it was the money. No...not the money, she's gonna miss 'im alright. Wonder what happened to ‘im then, ‘im bein’ only forty five. Maybe the troubles?

What's on these sandwiches then. Bugger..cheese and onion again. Must see Catherine about gettin’ some of that tuna fish in for next week.

That'll be the son there, helpin' her to the grave. Looks like he's ready for home already. Nice coat, nice shoes. Come down from the city for the day, just to bury ‘is old dad.

Two daughters by the look if it. The one behind will be the sons’ wife. She looks pissed off too.

Just plain old ordinary Joseph Vaugn O’Farrell for a father in law eh.

No, he's wasn't one of the boys then, no tricolor over the coffin, no black masks, no shots over the grave today.

A quiet affair then, no bloody helicopters flyin' over the place then, snoopin’ an’ all, disturbin the peace.

Wonder what he did, before?

He was no bloody yuppie that's for sure.

Bloody hell..tea's lukewarm. I'll ask Catherine for a new flask this Saturday.

The son looks like he does alright though. He's the busy type, really busy, lookin' at his watch already. But the dad......

Cheap coffin, one car, not a shipyard worker, Catholic.

Unemployed by the look if it. Best out of it if you ask me.

The other girl will be gone soon, she’ll get married off and move away from this hell hole. There's no help comin' from the son either. Pity the poor widow, If she doesn't get burned out by the heathens now he’s gone she'll be back under my shovel within two years.

Yep, I reckon I'll be seein' her soon enough.

Town's gone to the dogs.

Startin' to rain. Father Clancy'll not keep us too long then.

My back's achin' like hell already.

I'm gonna need that rubbin' liniment tonight.