‘Ah, no, feed yourself, you’ll need the sustenance.’

She picked at her breakfast as a mark of respect for the man who’d cooked it.

Grace arrived with Davey and Juliet in tow. Jack served them sausages while Molly got showered and dressed. She was worried about her friends, how they were and the toll her behaviour had taken on them, especially Thomas, a man in his eighties who shouldn’t have to face a criminal proceeding. Sorry. She applied make-up and checked her hair and walked downstairs to Juliet, who was holding up her mother’s book.

‘Have you read it yet, Gran?’ she asked.

‘I have,’ she said.

‘And?’

‘And it’s very special.’

‘I can’t make myself open it,’ Juliet said.

‘She wouldn’t mind at all, love, you do it in your own time.’

‘Do you think I’m weak, Gran?’

‘God no, you’re fierce.’

‘We’ll never forget her, Gran.’

‘Absolutely not.’

Juliet kissed the book and walked into the kitchen. Molly’s smile faded; she sat on the stairs for a minute, collecting her jumbled thoughts.

Jack appeared in the doorway, with Grace, Davey and Juliet behind him.

‘You ready, love?’ he asked.

‘As I’ll ever be,’ she said, and they were off.

The courthouse was small with a big wide tiled reception filled with people preparing to fight their cases. There were three doors: one led to the district court, the other to the circuit and in the middle there was a door to a marble staircase that led somewhere the plebs were uninvited.

Molly and her cronies were lucky; the director of public prosecutions considered their particular form of false imprisonment to be mild in nature and scheduled it for summary disposal in the district court. Mark, their solicitor, explained that as a result the maximum sentence would be one year in prison and the maximum fine would be five thousand euro. Of course he was hoping they would face neither, and instead their good standing in the community, their ages and the fact that they had never been in trouble with the law before would ensure a small, more manageable fine and no jail time. Thomas was equal parts nervous and ebullient. ‘My nerves are gone but sure it’s better than bingo,’ he said when asked if he was all right or if he needed a chair. They were standing in the centre of the reception, huddled around Mark, who instructed them on where to sit and how to answer the judge. Given no choice they were pleading ‘guilty’, and he would assure the judge that the four had learned their lesson and would seek the court’s leniency on the matter.

Pauline grabbed Molly by the hand. ‘We’ve been through worse.’