By Shane Leavy Wind rose and drove rain against the van with a hollow, rattling roar. Inside, Michael winced. ‘Don’t worry, young fellah,’ said Barry, huge behind a glowing cigarette where he sat opposite, ‘we won’t tell your mammy you got wet.’ Tom huffed smoke in a chesty snigger from the driver’s seat, then droppedContinue reading “Angle Grinder”