Life's a Breeze Page #3

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- Come on.

Come on.

To be honest, I'm not sure

I believe any of this.

I mean, you must have changed

your mattress over all those years.

Four times.

When the euro came in,

I took pounds to the bank

every day for six months.

And when were you

going to tell us

about these extensive savings?

I wasn't going to tell you.

It must be a wind-up.

Maybe she's in shock after we

threw out all her junk.

Can you actually imagine

if there was a million

euro in it? Ha.

Jim? Arthur in?

Yeah, he's sitting there.

See if we can grab his keys

from on the bar.

- Was he there?

- No.

Might have gone out for a smoke.

Didn't see him outside.

Jeez, that's brutal, isn't it?

- Three-nil.

- Yeah.

Give us a packet of them crisps

there, will you, Jim?

What do you want Arthur for?

Nothing.

Just looking for him.

Aw, f*** it, Jim.

Bollocks!

What the hell are you doing?

- Get out of that van.

- Sorry, Arthur.

We threw out something

that Mother wanted to keep.

We thought you might

still have it in the van.

You'd want to wise up.

Sorry.

Where did you dump it?

Aw, come on, man.

I apologized, okay?

Gimme me keys.

Where did you offload it?

The recycling depot

in Ring's End.

Okay.

Okay, great.

Thanks, Arthur.

Cheers.

I'll make it up to you!

I'll buy you a pint, right?

- Should we climb over?

- What if there's a guard dog?

Why would they be guarding

a load of rubbish?

It's worth a lot.

You'd be surprised.

They sell it to the Chinese.

I wonder how much

they pay for old mattresses.

Well, are we going

to do something or what?

- I'm not getting over that.

- Needn't bother.

Everything's cleared. They must

have already sent it on.

Where, Colm, to where

have they sent it?

Some sort

of sorting facility I suppose.

You suppose.

I'll go in and talk

to them in the morning.

- Monday morning.

- It's a bank holiday.

Tuesday morning.

Don't worry,

Colm will find it on Tuesday.

Colm is sick.

He couldn't find

a wife or a job.

How's he going to find

my life savings?

All right, go on!

- He will.

- Mmm.

Oh, oh!

- God help me!

- I'll hold you.

Get your hands off me arse.

- Do you want help or not?

- Bollocks!

I hate Sundays.

Why do you want it back?

It's got sentimental value.

Dad used to sleep

on it with her.

Oh.

Happy memories, huh?

Just let it go, love.

It'll be filthy by now.

It'll be no use to you.

Yeah, she's superstitious, too.

Probably easiest

just to find it.

Oh.

Well, if you put it

in the right container,

It's probably gone to landfill

via the depot by now.

People put mattresses

all over the shop here.

Rubble, timber,

damaged furniture,

pre-loved furniture.

Reusable.

Either way it's probably

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