Shite, he thought, but he was smiling. Playing again with the lads. Just like the old days. That would be something. He also thought about Juliet. She is going love this. This is what she needs.

Nine days earlier, on Rabbit’s first-year anniversary, he’d taken the day off and told her they could do anything she wanted. Her answer had been unexpected. ‘I want to go to Hendersonville Memorial Gardens. It’s not too far away. I can bring a picnic.’

‘What’s in Hendersonville Memorial Gardens?’

‘Dead people.’

‘Any particular dead people you want to visit?’

‘Johnny and June Carter Cash.’

‘Why?’

‘Ma and I saw the film.’

‘OK, and . . . ?’

‘We loved it, second only to Thelma & Louise.’

‘And?’

‘And I can’t visit my own mother’s grave, so I thought I’d take that tiny bit of dust they put in that stupid metal love-heart box and I’d bring my ma to visit people in actual graves.’

‘Don’t you think that will make her feel bad?’ he said, and he was joking. She smiled.

‘Dick,’ she said. He grabbed his keys.

‘Let’s go.’

Juliet had a real problem with the fact that her mother didn’t have a grave or even an inscription on a wall. ‘It’s like she was never here or we didn’t care enough.’

All the family was doing was respecting Rabbit’s wishes but it still hurt. He agreed to the Henderson trip because they needed to mark the day.

They arrived just after two in the afternoon. Davey was heading up to the main building.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Getting a map from reception.’

‘I’ve got one,’ she said, pulling it out of her pocket. ‘Got it on Find A Grave.’ She looked at it. ‘We’re in Garden of Matthew, latitude 36 . . .’ She started keying it into her phone. Then the phone took over. ‘Follow me,’ she said.

The graves were side by side, large black marble slabs with gold edging around them and gold writing. There were vases on each slab with beautiful fresh flowers in them. ‘Pretty,’ she said. The date on Johnny’s read ‘Feb. 26, 1932’ and ‘Sept. 12, 2003’ and under that was ‘Psalm 19:14’. Juliet read aloud: ‘Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.’ She looked at her uncle.

‘What do you think that means?’

‘That he hopes God was happy with who he was, what he said – thoughts and deeds stuff, you know.’

‘Not really, I’ve never done religion,’ she said.

‘Your mother was very clear about that.’

‘Johnny Cash did a lot of shite things, drinking and drugs and stuff, but he seemed like a nice man, so fingers crossed,’ she said.

‘I’m sure he’s been forgiven.’

‘If he exists, God wouldn’t be happy with Ma because she didn’t believe in him.’