‘It was tropical, Ma. The three of us playing in the sea and you and me da watching from the beach.’

‘Long time ago,’ Molly said.

‘It was magic, though, wasn’t it, Ma?’

‘Yeah, love. It was.’

‘I’m tired, Ma.’

‘Go to sleep, love.’

‘I’m scared.’

‘What are you scared of?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘Don’t be, Grace, don’t be scared. I’m here, Lenny’s here—’

‘And me da, where will he be?’

I’ll fuckin’ kill him.

‘Am I going to be me again?’ she said, and her eyes brimmed over.

Molly leaned back in and was careful not to touch or brush against Grace’s torso. She kept away from the hand with the cannula in it and was sure to avoid all the tubes and the drain dollies.

‘Did I tell you what an ugly baby you were, Gracie?’

‘Yes, Ma,’ she said, and Molly took a tissue out of her pocket and cleaned the tears from her face.

‘You had a face like an old man’s arse and a head of spiky ginger hair, but you were something else.’

Grace smiled.

‘Did I tell you how beautiful you are today, Gracie?’

‘No, Ma.’

‘You are and you always were, even when you were fuckin’ ugly.’

Grace chuckled a little. ‘Ow, ouch . . .’ She pressed the button again. ‘It’s still working, Ma,’ she said, and she drifted off to sleep.

Molly waited for Lenny to return before she left for the evening. ‘You’re a good man,’ she said before walking away.

She drove through the city as daylight drifted into night and the street lights came on. She thought about Rabbit and holding her hand, hearing her voice, watching her mouth move as she spoke, feeling her breath on her face and that dry laugh of hers, her strong voice, her gentle soul, and if she’d had a weaker spirit she would have driven into a wall.

Sorry. I’m so sorry.

Chapter Fifty-Two: Davey

Chapter Fifty-Two

Davey

THE LADS WERE SOBERED by the buzz, and the atmosphere of a full house, friends, family and actual fans of the bands from back in the day was enough to propel them onto the stage. The crowd cheered, Marjorie, Juliet and Davey’s nephews’ roars amongst them. Lit up on the wall behind the stage were enlarged black and white photos of Johnny, Rabbit and the boys in Kitchen Sink and The Sound. The main photo was of Johnny sitting on the edge of a stage alone and singing into a mic and Rabbit on the sound desk, moving a dial, their eyes meeting. Davey didn’t remember that photo ever being taken but it was perfect. Francie opened up the gig by shushing the crowd. The shouting, clapping and whistling stopped as soon as he raised his hand and everyone fell into silence.