–  Will you miss the Tin House?

–  No!

–  Well then, the loss of both those joys should allow for one tiny smile to ease itself on to those lips, eh?

–  Ah, leave her alone, John! says Bridie. You know the girl has never been able to speak up for herself!

I wanted to speak, I was desperate to speak, but I couldn’t start now because I was upset about the lovely placid old dolls I’d been tending for a year being sent away and Johns Farm being ripped apart. John Johns was watching me, willing me to give an opinion on proceedings.

My entire world had shrunk to the walls and high ditches of Johns Farm and I didn’t know how to voice how important that was for me, how it suddenly seemed to be all I wanted and I didn’t want it to be touched, not now, not ever. The farm was my cocoon, perfect and cosy. I didn’t want it disturbed.

–  It’s okay, Bridie, I’m just too tired to think.

John snorted and flipped all the magazines and drawings he’d made on the floor. He slammed up and out of the room, banging his bedroom door so hard it nearly came off the hinges. Poor auld Brandy dog was whining and shaking and turning circles. Bridie looked shocked as he smashed about, shouting.

–  Mary’s tired, Mary’s tired, Mary’s tired, MARY’S ALWAYS BLOODY TIRED!

I heard some books hit the wall and I worried for their spines but he wore himself out soon enough. The night ended as they all did, with milky coffee and broken biscuits and no further discussion. Tomorrow, we’d all let on nothing had been said or done or thrown. It was hard to beat the normality of a good Catholic family life.

We spent Christmas Day 1985 in front of the range, just the four of us. Serena got some books and colouring pens and a horrible thing, a Cabbage Patch doll; its little sealed-up lips and dimple made me feel claustrophobic but it was what she wanted so Dada had wrapped it up. When we sang ‘Jingle Bells’ and ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’ for her she spun like a top in a red velvet dress that Bridie had sewn. John Johns’s voice was deep and crisp and even and it resonated through the concrete to my toes, making them curl up in my winter boots.