Oh, Christ.” Jay buried his face in his frozen hands. Dempsey slapped Jay’s arm and belly-laughed. Jay glanced up, suddenly aware of how much he looked the drama queen in humiliating contrast to Dempsey’s no-nonsense man of action. “Never mind, lad. Could be worse, eh?” He gestured back to the shutter which was shaking and buckling under a sustained hyena assault. “Let’s get moving.” He jogged to the middle of the road, where the snow was only a foot or so deep. Weaving in between abandoned cars, he headed down Wood Street toward Hanover Street. Jay followed. He passed an Italian restaurant, Villa Romana, on his left; the double doors beneath the round arch were ajar and the stench of rotten food leaked out into the cold air: ripe garlic, something like sulphur and other odours he just didn’t want to think about. As they neared the bottom of the street, there was nothing but pubs and bars on either side of them. The smell of musty ale wafting out through broken windows was almost pleasant.
