‘Oh, how very touching,’ sneered the Rock Star. ‘A lonely pensioner and an orphan child. The sweetest of songs just waiting to be written.’

He laughed as he swept his arm around the room.

‘If I hadn’t already finished the lyrics to my next album I would start writing straightaway.’

All the while the Rock Star sneered Mac edged ever closer towards him. He was now standing between Inteachán and the wheelchair. The Rock Star looked up.

‘That’s far enough, Professor Mac an Bhaird,’ said the Rock Star. ‘No closer please.’