‘Nearly fifteen. How old are you?’

‘Seventeen and a bit.’ He grinned before turning away from her.

‘Da!’ he roared down the hall. ‘There’s a girl at the door, says her name is Juliet.’

Francie appeared on the stairs. ‘Juliet Hayes,’ he said. ‘What can I do you for?’ he said.

‘I need to talk to you about a grave,’ she said. His son, whom he introduced as Darren, looked at him. ‘So she’s not an illegit, then?’

Francie laughed. ‘She’s too attractive to be mine, clearly – fuckin’ state of you.’ He ruffled his son’s hair.

‘Charming,’ Darren said.

‘Get in here and have some pancakes with us.’

They made their way into the kitchen. Darren dished out the pancakes. The longer Juliet stared Darren’s way, the more handsome he became, so handsome she blushed every time he looked back at her.

‘Syrup or chocolate?’ he asked.

‘Syrup,’ she said, and she watched him pour the syrup. He had really strong arms.

‘Say when, or he’s going to drown you in it,’ Francie said.

‘Sorry, when,’ Juliet said, and Darren handed her a plate of syrup with a pancake on the side. Once she had the pancake in her she refocused on the task at hand.

‘You know Johnny Faye’s ma, don’t you?’

‘Like me own,’ Francie said.

‘Will you talk to her for me?’

‘About what?’

‘About putting me ma’s ashes in the grave with Johnny.’

Francie grimaced. ‘Ah.’

‘Where are they now?’ Darren asked, sitting down beside her. His leg touched hers and she nearly peed her pants.

‘Most are in a big urn in a wardrobe, and then the rest are in silver hearts all over the place.’

‘Jaysus,’ he said, ‘that’s mad.’ He offered her another pancake.

She blushed. ‘No thanks.’

‘Lash it over here,’ Francie said, and Darren threw the pancake on his plate. ‘The thing is, we can’t just pop Rabbit’s ashes into the grave, we have to pay for the plot and make it official.’

‘That’s what I want, all official, me ma’s name on the gravestone. I have the money,’ she said.

‘Right,’ he said, and he wasn’t smiling or as assured as he usually was.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

‘It’s just that I think that’s a family plot for the Fayes.’

‘Can’t they shove me Ma in there too? She’s only little now that she’s ashes.’

‘Let me talk to Karen,’ he said, and she grinned. ‘I’m not promising anything.’

‘I know.’

‘So stop grinning like that.’

‘Can’t.’

‘Why not?’ Darren asked.

‘Because if anyone can talk someone into doing anything it’s your da,’ Juliet said, her face now the colour of a tomato. Darren was getting even better-looking with every passing second. The room felt hot.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked.