Maura bent down to her. ‘No, Angela, I need you to be…’ Her voice tailed away. She had nearly said, ‘Be like our Kitty was’, but she managed to stop herself. ‘I need you to be a big girl and show Maeve how we do things and get the kids to school. Can you do that?’

Angela, nodded, knowing exactly what it was that Maura had been about to say.

Maeve took Angela’s hand. ‘Come on, there’s a good girl. Will we make the tea?’

As Tommy walked past with Harry dangling from his arms, his head lolling on his shoulder, the teddy fell onto the floor.

‘Take it,’ said Angela as she bent and picked it up and thrust it into Maura’s arms. ‘He makes me better.’

‘Go,’ said Maeve. ‘Off with you and God speed.’

Moments later, Maura and Tommy, feeling totally helpless, were sitting in the front of Liam’s van as he drove it as fast as it would carry them on the road to Galway. As they passed through Ballynevin, they saw the lights on in the Post Office and Mrs Doyle, with her face up to the window, watching them as they passed.

‘Why is Mrs Doyle up now at this godawful hour?’ asked Tommy.

Maura’s eyes never left her son’s face, but she said, ‘The cowman would have gone there to tell her what was happening and she would have telephoned the hospital to let them know we are on our way.’

Even though she couldn’t see him, Tommy raised his cap to Mrs Doyle in grateful thanks. ‘They are good people out here,’ he said in almost a whisper as he placed his hand over Maura’s and gave it a squeeze.

She looked up at her husband and their eyes met. She would not tell Tommy now, but if she had made a decision in the time it had taken him to get to Liam’s and back – and, if their son survived this, nothing anyone said would change her mind.

She felt the tears prickle the back of her eyes as her son rambled and the van bumped and rattled along the road. She wasn’t even sure if Harry would still be alive by the time they reached the hospital. In each village they passed through they were expected and someone was up and waiting in case they needed help. The jungle drums along the Atlantic coast road had heralded their coming. As they crept into one village, Liam slowed the van down, stopped at a gate, and just as he did, a door flew open and a couple Maura thought must have been at least eighty years old came running down the path. Liam wound down his window.