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It would be easy enough to do: their door was unlocked all day.
Teh whole street was searched and not a thing wae found. The
soldiers drove off to a chorus of booing and abuse and a hail of ston
stones.
"They've only got what they asked for," declared Mr McCoy.
The neighbours were angry. Voices were raised in the street for
a full hour afterwards.
"I Certainly it's not a nice thing to have your home pulled over,"
said Brede with a sigh, as they sat in the kitchen drinking another
cup of tea.
"I th thought an Englishman's home was meantto be his castle,"
said Uncle Albert.
"That's if your an Englishman," said Mr McCoy. "If your an Irish-
man that'sit's a different matter. You get treated like dirt by a everyone.
"I'm away up to bed," said Kevin.
He lay in bed listening to the voicesin the street outside. Most of them
he knew well for he had been listening to them for nearly eighteen years.
He was just on the borders of sleep when he the armoured cars returned
to the street. The snoise made him blink and sleep slipped away.
What was s up now?
The cars were stopping outside their house. Feet clattered on the pavement,
voices rang out. Kevin sat up, resting on one elbow, frowning. Gerald sat
up too and nipped out of bed and wentto go to the window.
"There's soldiers at our door," said Gerald. He hung out of the
window with an imaginary machine gun in his hands and sprayed them
