‘I’m not going to jail. I might do a bit of community service, but I do that anyway.’

‘Is Grace going to be OK?’

‘She’s going to be great.’

‘I feel sorry for her. She hates needles.’

‘Doesn’t everyone?’

‘Yeah, but not as bad as me granda and Grace.’

‘Do you have any questions for me about the gene?’ Molly asked.

‘Davey and I talked about it. I’m going to get the test when I’m twenty-one.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah. We think I’ll be old enough to make the right decision by then.’

‘Are you scared?’ Molly asked.

‘Nah, that’s ages away – we could all be dead by then,’ Juliet said, and Molly felt sad that, aged thirteen, her granddaughter was already so jaded.

‘Or there could be a cure,’ Juliet said, and Molly’s spirits lifted.

That’s right. Imagine that.

‘If I’m not dead,’ said Juliet, ‘I’m going to find one.’

‘Well, whether you do or you don’t I’m really proud of you, Juliet.’

‘Thanks, Gran.’

‘Your mammy would be really proud too.’

The front door opened behind them. A woman in her forties with short hair and a pregnant belly stood in the porch. The little kid that Kyle said cried all the time was behind her legs. He wasn’t crying but he had green snot hanging from his nose that was so long and dense it swung.

‘Apologies,’ Molly said, ‘we’re just leaving.’

‘I used to live here,’ Juliet said.

‘You’re Juliet?’ the woman asked.

‘That’s right.’

‘I’m Glenda, and this snot machine is James – forgive us, he has a nasty cold.’ She took a tissue out of her pocket and cleaned the child’s nose.

‘Hi, Glenda,’ Juliet said. Molly nodded. Glenda walked across the garden. ‘You must be Rabbit’s mother, Molly.’

That was a surprise. ‘Oh, we’ve heard all about you. Come in, please.’

The place was the same but so very different. All of Rabbit’s things were gone; Davey had had a bunch of movers take everything and paid for storage somewhere in Dublin. The old Hayes family photograph was now replaced by a framed poster of a dolphin. Molly followed Juliet, Glenda and James into the kitchen. She stood in a place once so familiar but now foreign; the walls, presses and countertop were the same, the table and chairs were different, bigger, maybe even a little too big for the room, the curtains on the windows had daisies on them. Rabbit would have hated that. No fridge magnets, different delph, a different smell – less bleach, more lemon zest. There was no sign of her daughter in this house; she was a stranger in a stranger’s home.

Juliet looked out into the garden. ‘Does James use the playhouse?’ she asked, pointing to her old weathered playhouse.

‘He loves it.’ Glenda said.