They shouted about Rabbit and Grace till their throats and heads hurt; there was no coming together, only drifting further and further apart.

Then there was the division of the ashes, which also caused an argument, the bulk in a box and the rest subdivided into four steel love-heart boxes. He’d decided to do that without really thinking it through. Where do we put you, Rabbit? In your little silver box. Where’s appropriate?

I’m not going on the mantelpiece next to Ma’s duck collection, I’ll tell you that, Da, she said, and he listened.

Good call, love.

They both walked around the house arguing about his stupid bloody idea to divide Rabbit into small metal love hearts, never mind the large box carrying the bulk of her that was currently in their wardrobe. ‘We should have just put her in the fucking wall,’ Molly said, but Jack looked to the heavens and mouthed to his daughter, ‘Not on my watch.’

He went back to mass once a week. He had been so non-committal for so long; all religious fervour in the house had been driven by his wife, and now that she had abandoned the Church in favour of revolution he took up the baton and represented the house of Hayes. Father Frank noticed quickly that he was attending church alone. One Sunday he managed to grab him in the car park, still wearing his vestments and panting, having darted from the pulpit out the back of the sacristy.

‘There you are,’ he said as nonchalantly as he could between wheezing breaths.

Jack opened his car door, sat in and pointed to the seat beside him.

‘It’s good to see you in church,’ Father Frank said.

‘But you miss Molly,’ Jack said.

‘She said she’s lost her faith, Jack.’

‘And why wouldn’t she?’ Jack said.

‘But here you are.’

‘Well, maybe I’m just holding her place in line,’ Jack said, and Father Frank smiled.

‘You think she’ll be back to us?’ he said.

Jack shook his head. ‘No guarantees with my Molly.’

‘I see she’s busy on the protests.’

‘She’s mad for it.’

‘And what do you think?’ Father Frank asked.

‘If she’s not fighting for something, who is she?’ Jack replied, and Father Frank shook his head.

‘At least this is something she has half a chance of winning. Tell her I was asking for her. The place isn’t the same without her visits.’

‘I will.’

Father Frank had called to the door many times in that first year but Molly refused to answer it if she was in, and if she was out Father Frank didn’t disturb Jack for too long, but Jack could tell he missed his friend. I miss her too, Frank.

Part Five: The Operation

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Molly

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Molly