The Dead House extract: Where the past is as thick as tar

In a lonely landscape near Castletownbere four friends gather by candlelight with two bottles of Jamesons and some memories to share. Here is an exclusive extract from Billy O’Callaghan’s new novel, The Dead House.

‘So, tell us, Michael. Would you say you’re in the habit of seeing ghosts?’

Maggie was on her knees in the centre of the room, lighting candles. Every time she struck a fresh match her face bloomed momentarily yellow into view, but when the match went out, usually to a puff of breath, she seemed engulfed by the night, sucked back down into its abyss. The candles remained lit, but in few enough numbers yet to properly penetrate the dark, and only a suggestion of her features lingered until the next match flared, the lines of her face holding largely as a memory.