She started that September and came home often with tales of how ‘boring’ it was, stuck away outside Belfast. The only great thing was a pile of second-hand clothes shops. She took to wearing stuff that was ripped and reeked worse than Granda Ban in his day. Bernie would give her a good smelling and shake her head and wag her finger! We laughed along but I was only pretending to join in. That she wore horrible collarless shirts and waistcoats from some old dead man’s wardrobe in Belfast made me itch. They might be the clothes of someone shot in the head.

I fought back the tears every time she left the street. I couldn’t bear to ride into town and see her on to the bus. The twice-daily service went from Carncloon to Omagh, then she had a thirty-minute wait for the Belfast Express. Every time John came back from dropping her off he was quieter. We had been stitched together because of our daughter and her absence was allowing us to tear apart. Every night when he rolled back to his side of the bed, he took his thoughts with him.

Serena had been gone for six months when I saw him standing at the door staring out at the orchard. It was pouring down, the wild greens of the trees were being blown this way and that, and I drew level with him to see what was so exciting. One of our auld hens, Gerty, was standing out in the terrible weather, her feathers rippled so much she was soaked down to her bones. We had put a setting of duck eggs under her when she was clocking and the six ducklings were having a great time in the puddles springing up. She wouldn’t leave them.

–  Look, Mary.

–  Poor Gerty.

–  It’s like watching you, Mary. She doesn’t know when to give up!

–  She can’t give up! What would they do without her?

–  Get sense, Mary, she’ll be dead in a week. Then they’ll carry on growing without her!

Things can only get better.

2004

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

28

Serena had just finished her fourth year at Manchester University and was moving on to London when we lost Bridie. It was early, 5am and I struggled awake. I thought there was someone on the street and when I looked out Bridie was walking through the gate to the river field. She was moving smoothly, no limp or stoop, and I was washed with joy that she was no longer in pain. But where was she heading at this hour when it was barely light? Then I saw auld Brandy dog walking at her heel like he always had. When he turned his head and his rheumy eyes locked with mine, my heart stopped.