AGAINST THE ODDSVinny helps out his old mate Fran but his good deed for the night leads to complications in his relationship with Angie Bets of the Week Vinny's Bismarck

THE GENTLE knock on his front door startled Vinny Fitzpatrick. It was after 11pm and no one ever called at this ungodly hour; in fact, callers at all were rare.

Living in a cul-de-sac behind Clontarf bus garage meant there was no through traffic past Vinny's home. Even those pesky leaflet droppers kept their distance, which suited him fine.

In the roaring Celtic Tiger days, estate agents would have labelled Vinny's abode a cosy bijou residence, with an inflated price tag. In today's belt-tightening times, it was a mid-terrace artisan dwelling you probably couldn't give away.

"Must be Angie, here to surprise me," he said as he flicked away the crumbs of the tortilla chips he'd been nibbling while catching up on the Olympic highlights on Eurosport.

Opening the door, Vinny was surprised to see Fran, his pal since childhood and drinking partner in Foley's, standing outside looking a little agitated. He was even more surprised to see that Fran had company. While she was wearing a hoody and had her head half bowed, Vinny recognised her as the girl who'd been canoodling with Fran in the Botanic Gardens a couple of months back.

"Vinny, sorry to trouble you at this hour," said Fran. "Look, can I come in? Er, can we both come in?"

Vinny ushered his guests into his front room, swept the Sunday papers off the settee and offered them a seat.

"Would anyone like tea, coffee or something stronger?" he asked.

Fran shook his head but the girl spoke up, her accent suggesting Eastern Europe origins.

"Whiskey, please," she said.

Vinny returned from the kitchen with two measures of Famous Grouse, complete with ice, no water.

He opened another bag of tortilla chips, cool-ranch flavour, and plonked down heavily in his favoured armchair.

"Now Fran, I'm all ears."

The tale, as it unfolded, was essentially a love story, or maybe that should be a lust story, involving a middle-aged man who'd become smitten with an attractive, accessible lady half his age.

Darina from Poland had come to Dublin a year ago in search of employment, money, and possibly more. Pert and pretty, she had spotted by chance an ad in the window of Fran's launderette, Bubbles On The Bull, in Clontarf offering part-time work.

"The day she walked in, my life changed," said Fran, reaching for the hand of Darina on the settee.

Fran explained how he'd been swept off his feet by Darina, including rather unnecessary lurid details of a steamy session among the tumble dryers one evening after lock-up. He'd lavished gifts upon her, sent money back to her family at Christmas and even smuggled her away to Donegal for a weekend having told his wife, Marilyn, he was meeting potential investors for talks about expanding the business.

"It was going so well until that night in Foley's when you passed a remark," he said ruefully. "I knew then you knew and was raging that the secret was out, but I was frightened too, so I said nothing. At least until now."

Vinny excused himself as he dipped into the kitchen for another couple of fingers worth of Famous Grouse and assessed the plight of his love-stricken friend.

At 51, Fran had been married for 25 years. He had two teenage sons who attended a posh, fee-paying rugby school on Dublin's southside.

Marilyn was no oil painting, but she was the mother to Fran's kids. To complicate matters, she was also Macker's sister.

Vinny was torn between loyalty to Macker, his closest friend, and to Fran, his oldest friend.

"What a mess," he sighed.

"Right, Fran," he said on his return. "You're here, and you've filled in some of the blanks. But what exactly do you want me to do?"

Fran puffed his cheeks out and ran his hands through his tight-cropped silver curls.

"Vinny, I need a big favour. Darina was turfed out of her digs on Clonliffe Road today and needs somewhere to stay, just for a night or two until I can get her fixed up. You've a spare room. Can she stop over here?"

Vinny took a larger than usual sip of whiskey and felt it sear the back of his throat. Darina had emerged from her hoody and was staring at Vinny with large, spaniel-like, brown eyes.

"Please, mister Vincent. I am sorry to trouble you but Fran says you are a good man. He also says you know what it feels to be in love."

That last remark arrowed into Vinny's heart. Who was he to pass judgement on Fran and Darina? If they were in love, what could he do to talk them out of it? If it meant difficulties for Fran's marriage, well that was something for Fran to deal with, not him.

As kids growing up in Clontarf, he and Fran had skinned their hearts, and skinned their knees; had learnt of love and ABCs. He could not turn his back on his old friend now. "Of course Darina can stay," he said.

Fran got to his feet.

"Vinny, you're a star. I'll go and fetch Darina's bag from the car. Then I'll be off."

Some time later, after watching a gripping finish to the men's freestyle relay in Beijing, Vinny polished off the last of his whiskey and tottered upstairs. Pausing on the landing, he heard the purring of Darina in the spare room.

"I suppose that's what friends are for," he said to himself.

The next morning Vinny was enjoying a lie-in - he wasn't due at work until the afternoon - and thinking about placing his bets for the start of the Premier League season when he heard three sharp raps on the front window.

He sat bolt upright. Only one person ever rapped on the window like that: Angie.

Jumping out of bed, and fumbling for his dressing gown, Vinny was half-way down the stairs when Darina, wearing one of Vinny's old shirts, opened the front door. "Hello, are you looking for mister Vincent? He's in bed. I will get him," she said.

Angie stood in the doorway staring first at Vinny, then at Darina, her eyes burning.

"Ange, it's not what you think, love," spluttered Vinny.

The silence was broken only by the sound of Angie's heels clicking on the cobbles as she hurried away.

Bets of the Week

2pts Blackburn to be relegated from Premier League (11/1, Paddy Power)

2pts White Hart Lane to be stadium with most goals in Premier (9/1, Boylesports)

Vinny's Bismarck

2pts Lay Tyrone to beat Dublin (5/2, Boylesports, liability 5pts)