‘I believe in God the Father . . .’ Molly said, but then she stopped. But do I? How many times do you have to knock before you have to admit there’s nobody home? And the Catholic Church? Do I really believe in them and their message? Now? After everything they’ve done? Every sin they’ve committed? Every lie they’ve told? Every obstruction of justice? Why would those men and women indulge in corruption if they really believed in the all-seeing God the Father, the creator of heaven and earth?

As the others prayed she remained silent and still, looking over to where her son was standing by his dead sister, shielding her from the Catholics. It’s a scam, Ma, Rabbit had said so many times before. Catholic Corp. – it’s just about the money. You know that. Deep down you know that. She hadn’t listened. I’ll listen now. Talk to me, Rabbit? Tell me I’m an old fool? Where are you, love? But Rabbit didn’t say a word. She was gone and it felt like she’d taken hope and the promise of eternity with her. Sorry.

She listened as Father Frank said the words ‘the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting’, and looking at her dead daughter and hearing them rattled off in such a meaningless way sparked a profound realisation: Molly Hayes didn’t believe a word of it. When Rabbit died, emptiness crept inside of Molly, and in that void no God could reside. You were right, love, it’s all a fucking scam. As Father Frank led the rosary and those gathered uttered the words to the Our Father and the Hail Mary, a deeply sad Molly Hayes said a short prayer of her own. Dear God, I’m done.

Chapter Seventeen: Davey

Chapter Seventeen

Davey

IT WAS AFTER TEN at night. Everyone else had gone, but Marjorie had insisted on staying on until every last dish was washed, dried and put away. She spotted the bus pulling into the terminal, which was only across the road.

‘Time to go,’ she said.

‘Get a taxi,’ Davey said.

‘I can see the bus stop from here.’

‘Don’t get on a bus, not now. It’s late.’

‘I’m fine, Davey.’

She grabbed her coat and said her goodbyes to Molly, who was sitting next to Rabbit, one hand placed on Rabbit’s cold head, the other hugging a cup of hot tea. Jack was asleep. Grace hugged her.

‘Thank you.’ Her gratitude was heartfelt. They women sank into one another, long enough for Davey to grab his coat and wallet.

‘Where are you going?’

‘The bus.’

‘Davey!’

‘Just let him,’ Grace said. ‘He’d follow you into a collapsing mine if it meant getting out of here.’