Even though yesterday morning dawned grim and scary in Laytown, with white-suited forensics experts searching the ground outside Pat's supermarket and two young kids somewhere in Laytown missing their nineteen year-old mother, nothing stops the Irish summer juggernaut for long.
The young mother was stabbed to death at 9.30 on Friday night, and by 4pm on Saturday afternoon, you would never know anything had happened, except for the bunches of flowers stuck in the holes of the metal bench at the bus stop outside Pat's. The shop was open again and people came and went for their milk, bread, newspapers, Coke, ice creams, and bottles of cheap wine for the barbie. Smokers sunned themselves in the yard (sorry, beer garden) of the pub next door, and all day long sandals and runners walked back and forwards over the spot where someone was killed the night before. The gardai are, apparently, appealing for witnesses to the stabbing (although they have someone in custody), which is a laugh considering the front of Pat's, like every open space in every small town in Ireland, is always full of teenagers smoking butts, popping wheelies, pushing each other under cars and calling everyone who walks past 'gay' or 'fat' or just 'cunt'. But maybe they were all studying for their exams on Friday night. After all, the weather isn't this good for no reason.
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