The Fall and Irresistible Rise of Irish Plastic - A Short Extract From The NovelHe sat and looked at the building from the vantage point of a café across the road. He ordered scrambled eggs with toast and a coffee but an attack of nerves got to him and he could not force the eggs down his clamped throat. After all the things that had happened to him at sea, he felt it was ridiculous to be so nervous. He was only enquiring about a language course after all. It was obviously a family trait. Or maybe it was a class thing? That is what is grandfather would have said. He saw his father again, unable to lift a phone and ring about a job for sheer nerves. Did middle class people get nervous? How would he know? He had not met that many. Then the building looked dark and forbidding, claustrophobic. He stood up in a consciously theatrical way so that other diners looked up from their breakfasts. He was going to do it. He drank the dregs of his coffee and, left the eggs.
The first thing he saw was the sign in the hall – Conradh na Gaeilge. Through the door to the right there was a counter and a girl sat with her dark brown head bowed reading a book.
Hi, said Peter, not really knowing what to say.
Hello, the girl said.
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