‘Annie, these eggs are fantastic. When you go off to university, promise me you’ll look after yourself. I mean eat properly and try to cook fresh food,’

Annie pulled her chair next to his, reducing the effectiveness of his elbow in the process. She rested her head against his shoulder.

‘You’re definitely turning into the old fart you told me you would never be. Anyway, it’s still three months until I go to Edinburgh, so can we just live in the moment a little?’

Her absentmindedness brought a smile to his face. This was certainly not a moment in his life he wanted to savour.

Annie leaned away from him.

‘What’s so funny, dad?’

‘Well, much as I really enjoy your little moments of new-age spirituality and all that, I’m not exactly sure that this is a great time for living in the moment!’

The doorbell rang.

Annie got up and moved towards the door. Cormac was grateful for the space she created. He was also glad for the extra moment of peace before Maggie’s arrival. He turned to his eggs. Annie turned back from the door.

‘Dad, will you get it?’

Cormac pushed his eggs away.

‘I’m not getting it. You get it!’

‘She’s your sister.’

He stood and moved toward the back of the kitchen, the furthest point in the house from where Maggie was now irritatingly holding her finger on the door bell.

‘Annie, I know she is, but unfortunately she doesn’t like me very much, and also scares the shit out of me!’

Annie sat herself down in front of his half-eaten breakfast.

‘Dad, please just get the door … oh and by the way, you’ve got a filthy mouth!’

He could tell by her tone he was defeated and made his way down the narrow hall. He opened the door. Maggie’s finger remained on the bell for longer than was necessary. She stepped into the cramped hallway and hugged him in the awkward way she had always done. Why was it no matter which way he tilted his head in preparation, she always managed to turn the same way? Did she do it deliberately? Cormac was angry with himself for the thought. Maggie marched past him.

‘Where is she?’

‘She’s in the kitchen.’

Maggie spun towards him.

‘Mammy’s body’s in the kitchen?’

Cormac, stifled an inappropriate laugh at the thought of his mother’s body competing with the kitchen table.

‘Sorry, Maggie, I thought you meant Annie. Mum is in the living room.’

Maggie turned on her heels and pushed open the living room door, just enough so that Cormac could glimpse the bottom of the casket. She fell to her knees. He turned his head away. Maggie wailed as he closed the door.

2

Maggie eventually joined them in the cramped kitchen. Annie made coffee. Maggie didn’t drink it. Maggie made tea.

‘Doesn’t she look peaceful, Cormac?’

Cormac didn’t answer. He tried to count to ten.