‘Or maybe when Rabbit’s diagnosis moved to terminal, the worst day of my life.’

‘I’m so sorry, Marjorie.’ He meant it. ‘I’m sorry for everything.’ And maybe it was the moving bus, the passing lights, the warm air around his nethers and the whiskey, but tears spilled from his eyes. He wiped them away with the back of his hand. His nose started to run; Marjorie pulled a tissue from her bag.

‘I’m going to be a better friend,’ he said, wiping his nose and, when he’d pulled himself together, ‘I’ll call once a week.’ He could hear Rabbit laughing.

‘Yeah, right,’ Marjorie said, and he put his arm around her shoulder and she snuggled in, and maybe it was the moving bus, the passing lights, the warm air circulating around his nether regions and the whiskey, but he knew that no matter what, he would keep that promise.

You better, Rabbit in his head said.

Chapter Eighteen: Juliet

Chapter Eighteen

Juliet

MOMENTS, MINUTES AND HOURS blurred together. Time jumped and swayed, and some even disappeared into a black hole. Still, Juliet remembered snatches of time, quite clearly. When she saw her dead mother laid out in a box in her grandparents’ dining room it was a shock. Despite the clothes and make-up, she didn’t look like herself at all; rather instead like a shop window mannequin dressed as Rabbit Hayes, or a waxwork that was supposed to look like Rabbit Hayes but without expression or signs of life – it just wasn’t quite right. In fact, if she was featured in a waxworks museum, Juliet would have asked for her money back. Her mother’s lips were so thin and slightly yellow under the pale pink lipstick. Her expression was grim. She didn’t care that her mother didn’t look very pretty. She was used to that. Sickness often stole her beauty, only for it to return in flashes, when she smiled, or winked, or felt a little better; when she wore something pretty and her wig was on straight. When she was alive she was still beautiful, but now all beauty was gone. She was staring at a withering husk. She didn’t speak – Davey was watching – instead she just called out to her ma in her head: Go, she said, and she heard Rabbit say the words from the end of their all-time favourite movie, Thelma & Louise, ‘You sure?’ and she nodded to herself ‘Yeah . . . yeah.’ She turned to her uncle.

‘I want to go home.’