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sunwise around the damaged area. They say she made a
very swift recovery and never again argued against the
coming together of the families.
The Twist
FOR EVERY STORY THERE’S A lighter and a darker
version. My uncle Andra, fae The Broch, talked about
plucking the geese. They were in Italy in the war and the
lads had done a deal. Jock Rose the tinker showed how it
was done. He plunged the carcasses into near-boiling water
and then the feathers just flew off. But first you had to kill
your goose. They’re big birds and none of the squaddies
ever managed to do that twisting the neck thing. Except
Jock.
So the deed was done, the plucking completed and they
made a proper dinner. Invited their new friends and
colleagues in the trade fuelled by British army petrol, to eat
with them. The squaddies told their new mates to bring
wives and daughters. The table was set. But Jock Rose
arrived pissed. He’d got hold of a horse and cart and there
were two dames from the brothel, sitting one on either side
of him. The guests could see the signs. Some of them
grabbed food, as they legged it out, stuffing it in the
pockets of their good clothes. These were hungry times in
the villages and the towns of Italy.