‘Right, that’s it,’ Molly said, and she took Juliet by the hand. ‘That auld fella will drown you if you give him a chance. What’s granda?’

‘A sap,’ Juliet said.

‘A sap,’ Molly repeated, and she winked and Juliet smiled. She turned to Davey.

‘You know what I’m going to say.’

‘Don’t fuck this up.’

‘Good man. I love you, son.’

‘I love you too, Ma.’

‘Go.’ Molly choked the words out. ‘Go now.’ So they went.

*

Those first few months in America were a blur; one thing blended into another then into another. Places, things, people, sights, sounds, lights and even the weather were new and different to anything she’d ever experienced before. Everything seemed bigger and louder, brighter, bolder. It appeared to be an exaggerated world of excess in some parts and deprivation in others; the grime was grimier, the lonely just that little bit lonelier. Maybe it was just tiny Juliet from a small suburb in Dublin, Ireland that couldn’t handle this new flashy world filled with music and soul, industry and passion, busy city streets and wide-open spaces, horses and limos, farmers and industrialists, world-class musicians and big business, or maybe she was just a little girl grieving for her mother and even the dimmest light burned a little too bright for her jaded eyes. Either way she knew by the end of the first week that she would never fit in. She wouldn’t give in, though; she was stubborn like her mother and also scared of what waited for her back in Dublin. Nothing. Her mother was dead and her home was gone, rented to a couple with a two-year-old boy according to Kyle, when they spoke every Tuesday on Skype.

She lasted three months in school before she knocked out a girl in her class, the police were called and she was excluded.

‘What did you do that for, love?’ Molly said on Skype.

‘She was horrible, Gran.’

‘Ah but still—’

‘She found Ma’s blogs online and read them out in front of the whole class and made a joke of her,’ Juliet said, and her eyes brimmed with tears. ‘They were all laughing at me ma’s words and worries.’

‘Oh well, in that case I hope she has concussion,’ Molly said.

Davey was touring a lot; so it made sense that he got her a tutor and brought her on the road. He hired a small six-berth sleeper coach, which had Wi-Fi, satellite TV, a galley kitchen and lounge and came with a driver named Bob. Davey slept in the first berth and Juliet in the last, with four berths between, creating the illusion of privacy. It wasn’t perfect but they were making it work.

‘And you don’t miss kids your own age?’ Grace asked over Skype.

‘No one really talked to me in the school,’ Juliet admitted.

‘Did you really talk to anyone?’ Grace asked.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Me ma died.’