JULIET’S ANXIETY GREW DURING the flight. No movie or music could distract her. She could taste the bitter dread as it leached out of her bones and into her blood system. Her heart hurt and she spent the flight on the verge of tears. The Dublin skyline made her heart ache as it had ached those first few weeks after her mother’s death. She didn’t want to look, but as they approached that familiar coastline it became impossible to look away. The sky was a light blue, and as they plunged through a fluffy white cloud and the ground raced to meet them pain ripped through her. As she disembarked from the plane, she had to consciously move one leg in front of the other crossing the tarmac and into the airport. Familiar accents followed her on the travelator – people joking, laughing. Lads returning home from a stag party, following the stag, wearing T-shirts emblazoned with the words ‘Decko’s getting married – RIP little Decko’, and singing ‘There’s only one Decko’.

A stranger walking in the opposite direction shouting, ‘Sorry, lads, but I’m a Decko’.

‘There’s only two Deckos.’

‘And so is me da,’ he said, pointing to a little grinning auld fella.

‘There’s only three Deckos.’

Irish people mess around a lot, she thought. She had never realised it before. She forged on, following her uncle, who confidently led the way, an alien in her own country. At passport control the man took a look at her passport and then at her. ‘Gone a while?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Welcome home, Juliet.’ He pushed over a box of Roses. ‘It’s me birthday, have a sweet.’

‘No thanks,’ she said, but she could feel her spirits rise a little. Then it happened: she walked through customs and out through the frosted glass doors and she saw her granda. The pain in her heart subsided and she was running into his arms. Whether she liked it or not, Juliet Hayes was home.

Chapter Forty: Jack

Chapter Forty

Jack

JACK STOOD IN THE airport arrivals hall with his eyes glued to the frosted glass sliding doors, waiting for that first glimpse of his son and granddaughter. Davey appeared, pushing a trolley holding two cases. He used to arrive with a rucksack on his back. How times change. Seconds later, Juliet emerged. She looked taller, older. She wasn’t smiling, she seemed grim, but then she saw him and her eyes lit up, a smile crept across her face and she bounced over to him like a playful puppy. ‘Granda.’

‘Ah, my Bunny.’

‘Nobody calls me that anymore.’

‘I do,’ he said. ‘I call you Bunny.’

‘OK,’ she said, and she hugged him tight. ‘I missed you, Granda.’

‘Oh, I missed you too, Bunny.’

Davey stood back and watched the scene unfold before holding out his hand to shake his dad’s.

‘We’re being very formal, Davey,’ Jack said, and he took his son in his arms.