Could he ever experience a simple meal, enjoying some simple peace and quiet? The answer came almost immediately.
�Michael. How�s the little people? I�ve not be hearin� a lot of them lately.�
Michael never found ignoring the taunts very difficult, as his face adopted a dreamy, without-a-trouble in the world gaze, smiling almost.
Today however, Milligan seemed persistent as he hardly stopped to take a breath, endlessly coming out with lines such as, �Have you used your t�ree wishes yet, Michael?� and, �Is it true what they say: ��You can�t trick a leprechaun to grant you more wishes��?� all the while being told to hush by Mrs Collins.
Had the demon drink had no influence on Michael O�Sullivan, there was no doubt about it, not a living soul would have ever heard of Snotch. However, drink, unfortunately, did have an influence, a rather big influence on Michael O�Sullivan. The locals of the Smiling Shamrock, when topics of conversation were sparse, would delve back into the archives of Michael�s visits and the wild tales he had told of the little people.
Midway through his bangers and mash, following the wake of the question: �Do the little women have beards as well, Michael?�, Michael watched with curiosity as Poppy�s head appeared around the door.
�Just checkin� you all enjoyin� your meals,� she said, her gaze hanging on Michael, before her head disappeared from view. �Right, this way,� Michael heard her instruct someone outside in the hallway with a hushed urgency.
Michael had a sneaking suspicion that the purpose of her visit hadn�t purely been to check that they were enjoying their meals, especially as Milligan had called after her informing her that his gammon tasted like leather boots.
Bumps and thuds unexpectedly erupted, banging through the hallway and up the stairs.
�Everyone still OK?� Poppy�s bodiless head asked them, which had appeared almost out of nowhere.
Michael craned to get a look at what was going on in the hallway behind her, though Poppy seemed intent on blocking out any gaps with her stout frame. A series of straggled gasps and pants that sounded as though they were of a result of a couple of men�s exertions snuck through the part of the doorway her body wasn�t managing to block out.
�There�s nothing to be seein� here,� Poppy notified them stiffly and rather unconvincingly as she squeezed her head between door and frame, bringing the door to.
The four inhabitants looked at one another, each seemingly as clueless as the next.
Michael actually appreciated the interruption as Milligan�s constant taunts had been beginning to wear away at him.
Though the ceasefire didn�t last for long.
�Do they all dress in little green clothes - like a uniform, or is that just some of them?� Milligan resumed with a wheeze.
Enough was enough! Michael got to his feet.
�Right!� he announced heatedly, �I�ll prove it! I�ll show them to you!�
Milligan�s crinkled old eyes lit up. �Now, isn�t that just grand! Well, let�s not be wastin� time down here then. Let�s go up and see these little people!�
Michael opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. He didn�t know what he had expected Milligan�s response to be but he certainly hadn�t supposed that he�d react with such willingness.
�Right,� said Michael, the wind suddenly missing from his sails.
A triumphant gleam shone in Milligan�s eyes as he struggled to his feet.
�Lead the way, Michael! Lead the way!�
Two men, both dressed in faded, lime-coloured coveralls, excused their way past Michael after he had opened the door to the hallway. Even though he sanctioned them to pass he hardly noticed the two men.
Michael didn�t feel much like talking as they made their slow advance up the stairs. It wasn�t until they reached the landing did he realise that Tom Dibble and Mrs Collins were tagging along too. Did they not believe him either, thought Michael now suddenly angry. Was his word not good enough? His mood became defiant. He�d show them.
The abrupt defiance ebbed as quickly as it had arrived. He knew what he was doing was wrong. If mistakes were measured in height then this one, he could see already, was going to be a Mount Everest of a blunder. He glimpsed the repercussions that would no doubt accrue as a result of his actions and tried his best to push them away. Instead he attempted to replace them with the humbled look he�d get to see on Milligan�s face and the sincere apology that would surely have to follow. Although doing that didn�t do the slightest bit of good. The key inside his right trouser pocket all of a sudden felt heavier than a house brick. Meanwhile, his legs were starting to get wobblier, as though his muscles had been surgically removed and replaced with plastacine. Even Milligan fell silent as Michael shakily inserted the key. Then, suddenly, from inside his room, Cleopatra shrieked - closely followed by the sound of dull thud, as if something weighty had fallen to the floor.
Michael, out the corner of his eye, observed Mrs Collins put her hand to her mouth.
�Someone�s in there,� Milligan accused, wide eyed as if claiming that this was all a set up.
�That�s what I bin tellin� ya all along but you didn�t believe me.� It was Michael�s turn to sneer. Self satisfaction had stamped out his inhibitions. What he was doing suddenly felt right, as though Snotch would be grateful to him.
The latch turned. The hinges creaked. The door opened.
Michael stepped over the threshold. Cleopatra wasn�t in her cage but was perched on the top of the wardrobe and appeared very ruffled. The big, thick, book that he had been reading earlier lay open at the foot of the chest of drawers.
Suddenly, no one seemed overly keen to join him. Mrs Collins however, was the first to make a move which triggered the pair of old men to follow suit. A woman, doing something they dare not. Never!
�Snotch?� Michael called quietly. �Snotch, it�s your friend, Michael.�
A hush fell. At that moment Michael knew then that he�d never see his little companion ever again.