There was no talking to her. In time, I realised that she was different to other mothers, that her anxiety about me was bound up so closely with love that she was no longer able to tell the difference.

Dad was an electrician with the ESB, a well-paid secure job. With an only child and a small mortgage, my parents could afford to take the ferry from Ringaskiddy to Roscoff every summer for a fortnight in France, when many of my school friends would have thought themselves lucky to get a week in a caravan in Youghal.

But the job had risks. On stormy nights, when Dad was called out on repairs, Mam would bank up the fire with coal and she and I worried together. No matter how late it was, we would wait up, for the sound of the key turning in the door, and for her to help him out of his yellow oilskins and towel-dry his hair in front of the fire. I wondered about that, about how it was that these were my happiest childhood memories. Not Christmas or birthdays, but times when tragedy was imminent, and averted.

When I got to the front gate, Dad was in the garden, though it was November and there was little for him to do. He had a pair of secateurs and was snipping at a square-cut box hedge. Grey-haired and blue-eyed, he moved like a much younger man even though, like Mam, he was seventy-two. Living on Gardiner’s Hill kept them both physically fit.

‘I thought you’d be inside setting the table,’ I said.

‘No need. Sure you’re here now. How’s my girl today?’

‘I’m great, Dad. How about yourself?’

‘I’m as good as ever. Divil a fear o’ me. Though I can’t say the same for herself.’

‘The form is bad with her?’

‘Not too bad. Sure you know yourself. But who have we here?’

He was looking over my right shoulder. I turned around to find that Davy had followed me. Without being invited. This was going too far, I thought, but I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of my father.

‘Dad, this is Davy, a friend of mine. He’s just dropping me off, he can’t stay.’

‘Ah, I’m not in that much of a rush,’ Davy said.

I wanted to give him a kick.

‘That’s great altogether. Sure if you’re in no rush, come in and meet herself.’

Dad turned and walked towards the front door.

‘I’d love to,’ Davy said.

I made a face at him and went into the house. He followed me, laughing softly.