Abandoning his mother’s plans for him to lodge in a Presbytery, naive Mal finds his own accommodation in Dublin...Worse, he was the only male tenant in his digs and an easy target for the women who worked out of the house. There were three of them. The oldest, a hard faced, foul-mouthed bottle blonde in her thirties had a figure from which Mal could hardly tear his eyes. And she knew it; taking every opportunity to embarrass him by flaunting her scantily covered assets in his direction. He always blushed, at which point she would raise a sardonic eyebrow before hooting with laughter and disappearing into her room.
A younger blonde stank the house out with cheap foreign fags given to her by her sailor clients. She never spoke, but stared at Mal whenever they met; as if she knew him but couldn’t quite remember who he was, which might have had something to do with the aroma of strong rum that usually surrounded her.
The third, a thin black girl with a huge but scary smile and fabulous legs suffered from alarming mood swings, was over friendly, and liked nothing more than to corner Mal to gossip about the others; something he hated.
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