“It’s cold up here,” he said as he got into his Toyota after selling an aerial photo. Below, the wind whipped the water into angry foam among the black rocks and you could hear the roar of the water above the sighing sea.

All looked well but if a man had been out there with light enough to see leaves he would have fled from that place. The rain fell in torrents but they did not heed it.

Mrs McGlinchey smiled in a positive manner as she hurried back into the hillside house with a large framed photo of her farmstead. She had bargained hard but he stuck to his sales formula and friendly ways to conclude the deal over a cup of tea and scones with lashings of blackberry jam.

He had stripped to the waist that morning and shaved himself carefully in front of the bit of a looking-glass. He had noticed lines on his forehead he had not seen before and there was grey in his hair.

He paid these things little heed but they reminded him of time passing. He felt a great hunger come over him as he thought of the money in his pocket and a need to find some place cosy, as he passed an old graveyard to his right. He had seen a country pub that morning which just looked like the right spot. He drove around for a while lost in his thoughts.

Time passed as he listened to the radio. He put his hand in his hair. The rain eased off. His scalp crawled. He had worked like a demon. As he hummed along to the tune from the radio, he remembered suddenly where it was– the cosy pub.

He braked, almost drove into the ditch and putting his foot on the accelerator he backed up a nearby lane and drove off in the right direction.

It was nearing sundown when he came upon it. There seemed to be no sign of life, but in response to his call, a fat grey figure appeared in the darkness of the doorway.

The inside lights were dimmed and he could only see two people– the barman and a customer, sitting at the counter. There was a curious smell– a dry, sweet smell that while not obviously unpleasant made the hair on his neck rise. The other man, with a hat on, watched him without any expression.

He went straight to the counter and ordered a pint. He took a seat to the left, a good distance from the other man whom he couldn’t see clearly because of his black hat. He looked at him with rabbit eyes.

The pint arrived, he sipped, it tasted perfect and just right for the moment. He relaxed, settled without a thought in his head, looking round the half-lit bar. Nothing happened.

The man with the hat sipped, he sipped and the barman was in between– he was tidying up and looking through his glasses, askew on his nose, at some book or paper on the inside of the bar.
The man with the hat looked up for attention, each was probing for a gap in the other’s defence, sounding out the other’s reactions. Their movements were delicate. They caught each other’s eyes and gestured something and the words came out.

“That’s on me,” and “pull another for himself.” The barman busied himself taking great care to get the heads right. “The first today,” he said after a mouthful.

The man with the hat smiled saying “Ay”. “Are you from these parts,” he said. “No, I’m from somewhere else.” “And where would that be?” “Ah, not here, just another place.”

Time passed, the clock ticked, few words were spoken. The man with the hat paid for the next round without moving: he had everything in his grasp. The barman nodded. It was the comfort of the place which switched him off– he was in another world.

“Time, gentlemen, please.” woke him up. He straightened up, arching his back, nearly fell off his stool and finished his pint. He got up stiffly, dead to the world after the day’s adventure.

He made for the door, the man with the hat followed. There was a light outside. He turned to shake hands, he grasped his hand and when the hat was lifted, he couldnít believe his eyes– a pair of horns– he backed off, looking at him with shock in his face. He headed for the car in terror. Had he seen the devil or was it the son of a goat?

After securing the doors he drove off into the night. The wind howled, the trees looked like vast monsters, the dark enveloped him.