“Jaysus,” she said. She was at home, with the telly going in the background. Her voice was blank with surprise; I couldn’t tell what else was under there. To Gavin: “It’s Francis.”

An unintelligible mutter from Gav, and then the TV noise fading as Jackie moved away. She said, “Jaysus. I didn’t think . . . How’re you getting on, anyway?”

“Hanging in there. How about you?”

“Ah, sure. You know yourself.”

I said, “How’s Ma doing?”

A sigh. “Ah, she’s not great, Francis.”

“What way?”

“She’s looking a bit peaky, and she’s awful quiet—and you know yourself, that’s not like her. I’d be happier if she was giving out right and left.”

“I was afraid she’d have a heart attack on us.” I tried to make it sound like I was joking. “I should’ve known she wouldn’t give us the satisfaction.”

Jackie didn’t laugh. She said, “Carmel was telling me she was over there last night, herself and Darren, and Darren knocked over that porcelain yoke—you know the one of the little young fella with the flowers, on the shelf in the front room? Smashed it to bits. He was afraid for his life, but Mammy didn’t say a word, just swept it up and threw it in the bin.”

I said, “She’ll be all right in the long run. Ma’s tough. It’d take more than this to break her.”

“She is, yeah. Still, but.”

“I know. Still.”

I heard a door shutting, and wind catching at the phone: Jackie had taken this conversation outside, for privacy. She said, “The thing is, Da’s not the best either. He hasn’t got out of the bed, ever since . . .”

“Fuck him. Leave him there to rot.”

“I know, yeah, but that’s not the point. Mammy can’t manage on her own, not with him like that. I don’t know what they’re going to do. I do be over there as much as I can, and so does Carmel, but she’s got the kiddies and Trevor, and I’ve to work. Even when we’re over, sure, we’re not strong enough to lift him without hurting him; and anyway he doesn’t want us girls helping him out of the bath and all. Shay . . .”

Her voice trailed off. I said, “Shay used to do all that.”

“Yeah.”

I said, “Should I go over and give a hand?”

There was a startled instant of silence. “Should you . . . ? Ah, no; no, Francis. You’re all right.”

“I’ll get my arse down there tomorrow, if you think it’s a good idea. I’ve been staying clear because I figured I’d do more harm than good, but if I’m wrong . . .”

“Ah, no; I’d say you’re right. Not meaning that in a bad way, like; just . . .”

“No, I get you. That’s what I thought.”

Jackie said, “I’ll tell them you were asking after them.”

“You do that. And if anything changes down the road, just let me know, yeah?”