I walked among their old haunts.
the home ground where they bled;
And in the dirt lay justice like an acorn in the winter.
Till its oak would sprout in Derry
where the thirteen men lay dead.

-Seamus Heaney

The Roe wept at Dungiven and the Foyle cried out to heaven,
Burntollet’s old wound opened and again the Bogside bled;
By Shipquay Gate I shivered and by Lone Moor I enquired
Where I might find the coffins where the thirteen men lay dead.
My heart besieged by anger, my mind a gap of danger.

I haven’t been keeping up in recent times. I was surprised when Ian Wright and Mark Bright didn’t even get named as subs.

I went really old school and bought A Christmas Carol. I’d looked at some of the stuff you’ve mentioned but ultimately had too much choice. Although she nearly ended up with Terry Pratchett’s kid books but I didn’t know how they’d go down.

No, no, no. I thought we left this stuff on the other place. I refuse to take part.