‘Highway to Hell,’ Father Frank said with a raised eyebrow and a creeping smile.

‘She would have loved that,’ Jack said.

‘It’s her all right.’

Molly insisted that Father Frank try some sandwiches and, because he was driving, as much tea as Marjorie could pour into him. She went off to check on Grace, who was having a wash and changing her clothes following her garden meltdown. Davey hovered, unsure where to put himself, and eventually just melted away into another room. The two men sat face to face beside Rabbit, laid out with hands crossed, and instead of rosary beads holding an ‘access all areas’ laminate in her hands.

Father Frank nodded over to the pass. ‘Nice touch.’

‘All Marjorie,’ Jack said. ‘She brought our girl back to us.’

‘She certainly did.’

‘I want to talk to you about when she’s gone.’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘I’d like to keep her, at least a part of her, with me.’

‘Well, the funeral directors handle the ashes, Jack.’

‘Oh yes, I understand that, but I was wondering about it spiritually, how would that sit with you, some of my girl in an urn, maybe, in the Glasnevin Cemetery wall or the memorial garden, a piece of her here with her mammy and me, some for Juliet, Davey and Grace.’

‘The body is just the host, Jack.’

‘So it’s fine, then?’

‘Fine by me.’

Jack smiled. ‘Well, that’s good, but I’m thinking more about what God would say, if he’s around at all.’

‘Your faith is waning too, Jack?’ Father Frank said, in a tone that suggested he was disheartened.

‘Oh no, my faith has been up and down for a lifetime. Don’t worry, I’m enlisted.’

‘I’d say God will be fine with whatever way you choose to honour Rabbit.’

‘OK, lovely, they can put people in all kinds of things now – jewellery, stones, pots – they can even do ash collages. Or maybe that’s just for pets.’ He stood up, slowly and painfully, holding his back, and shook Father Frank’s hand.

‘Back issues, Jack?’

‘Beanbag trouble, Father,’ he said.

If Father Frank had no idea what the old man was talking about, he pretended to. ‘Fair enough.’

‘You’ve been a good friend to Molly and me for many years,’ Jack said, moving over to the coffin to gaze upon his child. You’ve put up with a lot.’

Father Frank stood beside him. ‘From Molly or Rabbit?’

‘Both,’ Jack said, and the two men smiled. Molly had cursed poor Father Frank out of it many a time, and they’d shared many a ferocious debate, but he had huge time for a woman who was both charitable and formidable.

‘I consider Molly a dear friend.’

Jack patted his back.

‘As for Rabbit, you do know Molly snuck me into the hospice room to give her the last rites?’