I had a sherry, even though my father measured it out very small. I don’t want you to be falling about the place, Mary, he said, not in your condition. We smiled at each other. The thaw had started and it should continue unless Mammy thought of a new way to put us at odds. John had a few beers and was almost rosy as him and Daddy talked cows and crops.

I had allowed Serena to bring Bosco, just to wind Mammy up. John had backed her up when she asked if Bosco could sit with us. Mammy had immediately killed the idea – no, no, no, there’s no need for silly toys at the table – but, straight-faced, John had said Bosco must have a chair; after all, bears must eat too. A rattled Mammy let Serena set a place for the bear at the table with a look at me, me, that said she’s ruined and you’re to blame! It was an unheard-of indulgence that had me and Kathleen exchanging glances and raised eyebrows.

I mouthed ‘thank you’ to John Johns who winked back at me and smiled and I blushed despite myself. At that moment he seemed so lovely to me but I squashed down the tiny lump of pathetic gratitude gathering in my throat. I must make sure my weakness is confined to the bedroom. I had been thinking of reaching out to him during daylight hours but every time I mustered the few words it would take to show him that I’d softened, I recalled that he only had one use for a nothing girl like me. I bit them back and let him walk on, unaware that he was appreciated. A man like him didn’t need to be buttered up.

When it was time for the four of us to wander home with our torches I had a beaming Bridie hooked on one arm and the bear in the other while he carried Serena on his back, her little legs in their Sunday-best white socks hanging by his waist. Daddy said goodnight and safe home to us as a group to save his words. Mammy was too busy to bestow any kind of wishes. Chicken bones don’t boil themselves, y’know?

Granda Ban passed away below in the nursing home a week later and I was sitting by the phone waiting for the call. I saw him in my dreams rounding the bend at the top of the lane. He turned to wave before he lit his pipe and the little clouds of grey smoke from it grew and grew ’til I couldn’t see him any more. It was 4am and I slipped out of bed, got the range up to heat the kettle and wait. The babies swirled under my heart and poked their hands and feet in four directions at once as if they wanted to meet him before he went.