It was still quite early into their relationship. They were lying in bed one Sunday, enjoying that twilight zone – somewhere between asleep and awake, but not quite sure where. The radio was purring softly, then the midday News came on, and the newscaster’s voice roused them both. More bickering in Northern Ireland.
It was funny because Paul seemed to have all sorts of stories about Ireland, which contended with accepted knowledge. That there was not one Bloody Sunday (she had, of course, heard of the paratroopers in Derry), but three. That one of them was way back in 1920, British armoured cars had fired on spectators at a Gaelic football match in Dublin.
She could respond in kind, reciting atrocities committed by the Chinese, passed to her by her father but not widely known.
None of these stories tended to be in the history books, but, there again, who had written the history books?
for Fandango’s One Word Challenge (FOWC) of 6th August 2020, contentious.
I’ve written a background to these characters, in the posts below.