‘OK.’ She took off her dress and underwear and she joined him, and they pressed together and they didn’t talk about protection and maybe that was because Davey had assured Marj he was STD-free and she had admitted she was infertile, or maybe it was because in that moment neither cared. Either way, the events in the bathroom led to the bedroom, and late checkout became an early dinner. They parted just before seven the next evening with promises to see one another again before he left for America six days later, but even after the best sex of her life and the renewed bond between them, she knew getting into her taxi that she wouldn’t see him before he returned to the States. It was sad but it was OK; she had a new job to go to on Monday morning and a new life to find.

Part Six: Year Two

Chapter Fifty-Five: Jack

Chapter Fifty-Five

Jack

SAYING GOODBYE TO HIS granddaughter was difficult. He didn’t want her to leave, and despite her protestations he was savvy enough to know that she didn’t want to go either. Juliet was loyal to the man who had agreed to raise her and loyal to the memory of her mother, who had such high hopes for Juliet’s substitute parent, but she was miserable.

The week flew in and it was filled with hospital visits to Grace and time with cousins and the neighbour boy Kyle. Jack took them to the cinema and sat between them. They didn’t like that. Tough. Molly spent the week cooking Juliet and Davey’s favourite foods and fussing over them both; it was nice to see her focused on something other than water meters. Of course she still didn’t have time for him, and he kept his head down because the book contract signing was looming. Armageddon. Jack and Davey spent an evening down the pub drinking pints with Francie and Jay. It was a good night, full of laughter. There was always laughter with the twins. He admired that about them; their ability to joke their way through anything was a gift, one he didn’t share. It was nice having his son home; he always regretted it when he left. He missed him. He missed his daughter. He missed his granddaughter. His missed his wife.

He finally visited Grace on the day after her operation; she was physically compromised by pain and mentally compromised by strong medication.

‘Is that me da? I thought you didn’t love me anymore?’

‘Ah now, Grace, don’t start that,’ he said, holding his flowers, chocolates and big card.

‘I don’t think flowers are allowed in hospitals anymore,’ Lenny said apologetically.

‘Go on,’ Jack said.

Grace giggled to herself. ‘PC gone mad.’

‘She’s a bit stoned, is she Lenny?’

‘Out of her box, Jack,’ he replied.

Jack placed the flowers in the bin. Lenny gave him a seat.