–  No, I’m not!

–  What a surprise! I don’t care anyway; Serena’s always been my girl. Maybe you’re right? Maybe I should go?

–  Maybe you should.

When we lay down together he kept a space between us. What was in his mind and why couldn’t I just ask him? I was glad when he spoke because it was the kind of night Granny Moo might appear but, just as I thought I saw her forming in the corner, he broke the spell.

–  I’ll go tomorrow as it’s Saturday and get it out of the way. Don’t tell Bridie, okay?

–  Okay.

It didn’t even take the whole day for him to realise he had made a mistake. He’d spun some yarn about looking at machinery in Ballybofey and Bridie had nodded, unaware. He’d smiled at me when he left; we had a secret after a fashion. But when he came home after a very few hours only a blind man wouldn’t be able to see it hadn’t gone well. The children cleared out of his path when he stormed through the kitchen and up the stairs to get changed and he slammed through the half-door and stayed out in the back fields until it was nearly dark.

The boys went out after him to see if he wanted any help but he sent them home and they trailed in, a bit gloomy because Daddy wasn’t acting like himself. Much later, Serena went out to ask him to come in: it was time for cocoa and stories. He didn’t come in with her so I knew it was bad. I had to go myself.

I followed the sound of the sledgehammer to find him stripped to his vest though it was chilly and getting dark. He was pounding in fence poles, swinging the sledgehammer wildly and bringing it down with such force that I could hear the wood nearly splintering in two with every blow.

–  John?

–  Ah, here she is! My darling wife!

–  What happened?

–  The priest says I’m a bastard! Isn’t that funny, Mary? But guess what? I’m a bastard for ruining you, not because he took an unorthodox route to fatherhood himself!

–  I don’t understand …