The countryside is so beautiful viewed from the stoop at Johns Farm. From the river valley I can see the purple hills of Shanagh Bog which wraps around the middle of Aghabovey, the roundest of the five hills. To the left of the bog are the swathes of pines planted by the Forestry Commission. Combover Hill is art, the Forestry only planted half of it, and the border is a widely exaggerated ‘S’ shape that sweeps its dense green in a wave to meet the purple bog and the rushes on the other side. It’s called Comber Forest but it’s been Combover as long as I can remember. Its light and dark emeralds sit at a respectful distance from the hill field which is behind the red of the roofs on the milk house and the big two-storey barn where the hay is kept.

The other two-storey barn is attached to the house and it’s where the cows are wintered – as a result the cow muck has to be wheelbarrowed to the midden past the front door, not something which helps the smells about the place. All of the buildings and the little house have been whitewashed recently; some of the whitewash still speckles the grass along the edges. The river carries the sounds of other lives from the road which is two fields from the far bank. In the soft light of morning it looks benign, even homely.

He comes about midday. I hear the noise of the tractor on the lane and Brandy barking right up until he recognises who it is. Will I be in trouble if I get any grease or dirt on the pink suit? Daddy’s tractor isn’t the cleanest and Mammy always wants to keep things good or to pass them on with some strange alteration. She might even have plans to take it back to Harper’s and get her money back? She’d like that, sticking it to a Protestant business. I suppose Daddy’s thought of it and he’ll have a bag or old coat for me to sit on.

I’m already outside when he arrives, waving and waving like I haven’t seen him in a lifetime. I’m showing far too many teeth but I can’t stop. He waves back, just the once, and looks away as he turns round on the narrow street. I’m just about to tell him that I’m ready, so Bridie won’t start fussing and making tea, when I see he has a suitcase with him. It’s an ancient brown leather thing that’s been sitting around the house for years.

–  Frank, will you take tea?

–  No thanks, Bridie, I must be getting on. I’ve a lot of ground to cover today.

–  Daddy? What’s in the case?

–  Did yous hear the terrible news from last night?

–  No, Frank, what happened?

–  Daddy? What’s in the case?