Kisses Page #3

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Okay. I sing. You learn.

Come on mister, give me some money.

Bob Dylan, live on stage.

- Your name Bob Dylan?

- Just Dylan.

That is for you.

I have to go.

Guitar lesson in ten minutes.

What about our share?

I was collecting the money for you.

Where's my share of it?

All he said was he was squatting

in a house on Gardiner Street.

How are we going to know which one?

We'll just try them all.

How many houses can there be on one street?

Excuse me, Mister. Is this a squat?

- Is this a squat?

- I don't understand you.

- A squat.

- I don't understand.

Do you know Barry Dunne?

Is Barry Dunne there?

Do you know Barry Dunne?

- Here, do you know Barry Dunne?

- He used to live here.

- They threw him out about six months ago.

- Forwhat?

- Fighting.

- Do ya know where he went?

He moved overthe road, down the other end...

...number 68 I think.

- Thanks.

- Nice one mister.

Hello?

Excuse me, does Barry Dunne live there?

No. But a boy lived in that flat.

I think he was Barry.

- Big scar on his lip?

- Yes.

He was fighting with a man on the stairs.

Police came to arrest him.

Then I saw him in the streets,

sleeping in boxes.

- What street?

- At the river.

- Are you his friends?

- He's me brother.

I hope you find him.

Sorry, I'm busy.

F*** it, that's it so.

Come on, we'll go down and look.

She said at the river.

Kylie, forget about it, will ya?

He's out on the street.

We're never going to find him now.

He's not much use to us anyway,

he can't even find himself a gaff.

Maybe she's talking about a different person.

- Another Barry Dunne?

- Maybe she remembered his name wrong.

She said he had a scar on his lip.

It's him. Why don't you just admit it?

It's not him. We can still find him,

and he's going to help us.

He's not going to help us, he's gone...

...and you're off your head if ya think

you're going to find him now.

He's probably in one of these other houses

that we haven't knocked on yet.

See you, honey.

Is Barry Dunne there?

- How you lose your brother?

- He ran away two year ago.

Said if he didn't, he'd kill me Da,

and the prick wasn't worth going to jail over.

- He would kill his own father?

- Yeah. I would too.

I hate the f***er.

- But you'd go to jail.

- I'd make it look like an accident.

Anyway, they can't put you into jail

until you're eighteen.

And your girlfriend?

What would she think?

She's not me girlfriend.

- What about your mother?

- I'd be saving her.

Your man was a bit old for ya.

I like old.

Old has money.

So you kiss him for money?

No. He is kind to me.

And I have nothing to give him, only kisses.

When you kiss, you give or you take.

See?

For you...

...I give you luck.

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