When Davey announced the move home, relief washed through with the force of a burst dam, and the invisible weight pinning her down slowly dissipated and finally lifted and floated away. Juliet Hayes, although still acutely traumatised, felt lighter and brighter than she had in years. Davey saw her pain. He was moving home for her and leaving his old life behind because he loved her and because she was enough. With Davey by her side, she could leave Trevor behind and bury the memory of his terrible act in a foreign land. She believed that they could start again surrounded by family and friends who would never hurt her. When Davey’s secret was revealed and she was face to face with Marjorie’s bloated belly, she realised Davey didn’t see her pain. He hadn’t moved home for her. He had left his old life because he loved Marjorie and the baby. She wasn’t enough. She was nothing. Trevor saw that she was nothing and had no one; that’s why he did what he did.

She avoided Kyle more than she saw him and he tried to understand what had changed, but how could he? She didn’t have it in her to explain that she’d never really fancied him; he had been a nice distraction from grief and a link to home, but after her encounter with Trevor she’d rather be alone.

One afternoon she met Kyle in a coffee shop on Wicklow Street. He was sitting by the window.

‘How come you’re off school?’ she asked.

‘Teachers’ meeting.’

‘Oh.’

‘Thanks for meeting me,’ he said.

‘I was in town anyway.’

‘Oh.’

‘I think we should break up,’ he said, and he couldn’t look at her – he just stared out the window at a busker singing and clacking his knees together, playing a tambourine . . . badly.

‘Were we really even going out?’ she said, and that really hurt him. He flashed her an angry look.

‘Sorry, didn’t mean it,’ she said, and she was relieved it was over.

‘You don’t care, do you?’

‘Sorry,’ she said.

I’m a user, Ma.

Everybody needs somebody, Bunny.

Don’t call me Bunny.

I’m dead, I’ll call you what I want.

He got up to leave. ‘I did like kissing you,’ she said, but he didn’t turn to face her, he just pushed his way out through the crowded coffee shop; but she could see as he walked down the street he was wiping his eyes. She felt nothing at all.

Maybe I’ll never fall in love, Ma.

She got the bus to Francie’s house. She knocked on the door and one of his kids answered, she wasn’t sure which one, a handsome boy with cool hair and brilliant eyes. He looked her up and down.

‘Yeah?’

‘Hi, I’m Juliet. Is your da in?’

‘How old are you?’ he said.