‘Who was that man then?’

‘You know him alright. That was Two Pints.’

‘How does a man get a name like that?’

‘Feck. There’s nothing hard about that. He’ll just drink two pints for the night and leave it at that. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just the two pints. And he’ll tell you, make it as clear as he can, that there is no more needed. There is no better feeling a man can have than being halfway through that second pint.’

‘The first pint will loosen the back of the mind, shake out the cobwebs and clear up the air. You’ll be bound to finish it too quickly and the glass will be back down on the bar the dregs streaming in. There’ll be a wait then as that second pint is poured into its glass and as you’re doing that your tongue will rattle a bit in the mouth.’

‘There’s no patience to be had as you wait for that pint. But when it is there, in front of you, pause for a while and make that wait last. He’ll not have another pint after that one and you can see in the way he holds the glass that he’d like to have more.’

‘Drink deep there and let the world settle down around you. Two Pints will tell you there’s all sorts of temptation in the world and powders to make you feel good. But that second pint will knock them all down.’