Was John’s ambulance on the motorway yet? The umbilical between it and me was tearing at my guts, one more inch and I’d unravel. I wandered around the shops looking at stuff that I’d never want, thoughts of John and his words, I know you won’t come, ricocheting around my head. I’m yours – that’s what I should have said while I still had the chance, damn being embarrassed, damn being scared. You were right, John, I couldn’t be more yours.

The Ulsterbus rolled in at six thirty to Carncloon. I changed to the other bus which was ticking over at the stop and waited for it to start its climb to The Hill. I didn’t get as far as home. The boys were all in Mammy’s. I could imagine the clack of the rosary beads for an occasion such as this. The Angelus bell still crowed three times a day for Sadie and her increasingly painful knees. Eugene speaks for them all.

–  How is he?

–  Well, he’s gone to Belfast, the Mater. He might have broken his back.

–  Jesus, don’t soften it, Ma! says Eugene. What does that mean for him?

–  They don’t know yet. There’s a chance that he’ll be okay but they have to wait and see if his spine is damaged too when the swelling goes down.

–  What’ll we do now? When can we go and see him?

–  We’ll go home for now and I’ll ring the Mater. Then we’ll know exactly when we can go and see him, alright?

They looked away, not sure what to feel or think, torn between being men and boys. They loved him so dearly, it was tattooed on them. Mammy could hang back no longer. She loved bad news more than altar wine, thrived on it.

–  Oh, Mary! Will we see if Father O’Brien can offer up tonight’s Mass for him?

–  Maybe we’ll just pin most of our hopes on the surgeons at the Mater, what about that for a radical idea?

–  Well now, isn’t it just like you to be facetious at a time like this! There’s never any point in giving up on God, Mary, you’ll come to know that yet!

–  Mammy, I’m tired, I’m stressed and so are my boys. I just want to get past you and your fu— effing rosary beads and into my own home so that I can phone the hospital, alright?

–  Hmmm, well, I suppose it’ll have to be. But I’ve made stew, enough for all of you, so I don’t know what’s going to happen now …