He yanks open the back door
and grabs the green towel out of Paddy’s hands
What ye deein with that ? It’s my swimmin towel!
Dad slides out from under the car
What the hell..?
Frankie’s pushing Paddy Dirty little bastard
Paddy pushes back Watch yer mooth!
Dad stands, puts his hand on Frankie’s chest
Frankie’s reaching round him
to get at Paddy, who’s grinning – It’s just a towel
Yeah but it’s my towel, with my badges on.
It’s old says Paddy
Dad takes the towel Act yer age – stop gettin in a radge,
he turns it, noticing the oily streaks, the faded colour
Swimmin badges are fer kids.
Hot tears of rage spurt from Frankie’s eyes
You take his side every time!
Frankie kicks the car tyres, he knows he cannot win
Stop that! Dad cuffs him
Paddy mouths Freak
Frankie flies at Paddy Fuck you
fist and feet hit out: Yer Bastard!
HOY Dad catches a kick on the shin
he grabs Frank’s shirt in both his hands
and pulls him close to shout,
Frank feels Dad’s spit fleck his cheek:
Pull yersel together, Frank.
It’s just a bloody towel. Ne wonder lads are calling ye. Divvent be a jessy.
Frank turns and runs upstairs, he hears Paddy’s laugh
and Dad’s sharp tone:
Ye can shut it an all. Leave the lad alone,
Mr Stringer’s been on aboot ye.
Frankie throws himself down on the bed, and turns up the music.
Dad finally said something to Paddy.
But it’s all too late.
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