In the kitchen Molly made herself a long-overdue cup of tea while Jack and Grace sat opposite one another at the table, both steaming. Sorry. She placed the pot between them and a few cups, milk and sugar. She sat.

After a while and with half a cup of tea inside him, Jack started to come round. ‘I’m sure it can’t be that bad,’ he said, trying to lighten the mood. ‘I mean, what exactly is false imprisonment?’

‘It’s when a mental auld one traps three men in a fuckin’ van for five hours,’ Grace said. She really wasn’t taking it well at all.

‘Ah but sure, I’ve been stuck in a lift longer, do you remember, Molly, in Blackpool?’

‘Oh yeah, seven hours,’ she said, ‘we thought we’d never get him out.’

‘I was lucky I was in it on me own, of bit a space and it was nice and warm. I just fell asleep, didn’t I, Molls?’

‘I was losing me mind, waiting for those doors to open, and there he was in the foetal position and snoring.’

‘I could sleep anywhere back then,’ he said.

‘You can sleep anywhere now.’

It was the first pleasant conversation they’d had in weeks. BR they were two peas in a pod and the best of friends; AR they were either bumping heads or drifting apart.

‘I think we’re getting off the subject,’ Grace said.

‘I’ll call Maurice in the morning,’ Jack said.

‘Are you ready for your surgery, love?’ Molly said.

‘No,’ Grace said.

‘You’ll be grand, won’t she, Jack?’

Jack excused himself. ‘Maybe I’ll try and ring him now or leave a message.’ Arsehole. He refused to engage with anything related to the surgery. It was one of their many sticking points.

‘He’s just worried,’ Molly said.

‘I know,’ Grace said, but her mother could tell that Jack’s silence deeply hurt her. I’ll murder him.

‘Did I tell you how brave you are, Grace?’ Molly said, and she smiled at her daughter and placed her hand gently on her face.

‘You always say the only difference between bravery and stupidity is the outcome,’ Grace said.

‘In my case, not in yours. I think you’re a hero.’

‘Stop it, Ma.’

‘I do. My hero.’

Grace grinned a little. ‘Well I think you’re a lunatic.’

‘In the current climate, that’s a fair assessment, love.’

‘Love ya, Ma,’ Grace said, hugging her mammy.

‘Love ya, Gracie,’ Molly said, holding her firstborn tightly. Sorry.

It was five days before the anniversary of Rabbit’s death and thirteen days before Grace’s operation, and Molly Hayes had no fucks left to give.

Chapter Thirty-Six: Jack

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jack