“Alright, I won’t argue your point.” Shay chuckled, allowing Vera to wander into the kitchen, which he was quietly grateful he kept tidy if for no other reason than being a soldier meant old habits like having everything inspection ready and serviceable died hard. “Some song might be good; affording a radio receiver is a bit out of my affordability at the moment.” He said, curious as to what Vera’s singing voice was like.

To his surprise, Vera broke into an Irish folk song, Black Velvet Band. It was one that came up quite often back in Cork, and from time to time in Belgium and France among the lads. Once or twice, he’d heard it come up in the Tawdy Countess, but it was an Irish song through and through. He drummed his fingers along to the tune, transfixed at this lively side to Vera that made her seem quite so alive and carefree. It was strange having someone staying with him and not having to prepare his own meals, but in an odd sense of things it felt right, like it was the way things ought to be, but had simply gone away for a while. Even the meal brought a delightful scent into the flat, giving volume to an otherwise drab set of accommodations. Shay rested his head back against the back of the couch and let his eyes close, simply taking in the moment and allowing himself to be at ease. 

When Vera spoke suddenly, it took him a moment to snap out of his slight trance. Had he begun to drift off? He wasn’t sure, but he gave himself a few moments to compose himself. “Right then. I’ll make sure all your hard work doesn’t go up in hellfire.” He grinned, rising up to his feet and downing the glass. The almost defiant tone in  Vera’s voice of being perfectly capable of drawing up her own bath wasn’t lost on Shay, who raised a hand in mock surrender. “Now, I never doubted your ability to turn a couple of valves, I’m just saying I’m the best at it.” He teased with a grin and a wink. With a playful wave of the hand, Shay shooed Vera off. “Go on, I have to finish this most sacred duty in making supper.” He said, heading off to the kitchen.

A song of his own came to mind, one just about every Irish man, woman, and child knew, and it was something that was popular with the regiments in the war… and the Easter Rising.

With light and airy voice that lent well with its melodically quality, Shay sang to himself as he monitored dinner, partially as the mood struck him, and to give Vera a sense of conformity.  

[url]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wElVCMUEfhI[/url]

[I]With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a

 "Ahhhhh, Mrs. McGrath," the sergeant said
"Would you like to make a soldier out of your son Ted
With a scarlett coat and a big cocked hat
Oh, Mrs. McGrath, wouldn't you like that?"

With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a

Now, Mrs. McGrath lived by the sea shore
For the space of seven long years or more
`till she saw a big ship sailing into the bay
"Here's my son Ted, wisha clear the way"

With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a

"Oh captain dear, where have you been
Or have you been in the Meditereen
Will you tell me the news of my son Ted
Is the poor boy living or is he dead?"

With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a

Well up comes Ted without any legs
And in their place, he had two wooden pegs
Well she kissed him a dozen times or two
Sayin`:" Glory by the God, sure it couldn`t be you?"

With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a

"Ah then were you drunk, or were you blind
When you left your two fine legs behind?
Or was it while walking on the sea
A big fish ate your legs from the knees away?"

With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a

"No, I wasn't drunk and I wasn't blind
When I left my two fine legs behind
But a big cannon ball on the fifth of May
Tore my two fine legs from the knees away"

With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a

"Oh, Teddy my boy," the widow cried
"Your two fine legs were your mammy's pride
Them old stumps of a tree wouldn't do at all
Why didn't you run from the big cannon ball?"

With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a

"Well all foreign wars I do proclaim
Between Don John and the King of Spain
And by herrins I`ll make them rue the time
That they shoot the legs from the child of mine”

With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri, oor-ri-a[/I]

Some time after, his spirits lifted, Shay began to dish out the stew into wooden bowls when he heard Vera stirring in the washroom and the tub beginning to drain. Fetching both of their tumblers, Shay topped another two fingers of whiskey into both glasses. Setting both bowls and the forks alongside the glasses, Shay took a seat at the table, looking out the window at the snow-dusted streets below, curious of how it could feel so warm and cheerful in his quaint abode while it looked positively uninviting out of doors.