Nurse Lucy is inside with some people from the funeral parlor, arranging the body so it can be taken away and prepared for the wake. The funeral will take place in two days’ time at St. Brendan’s. The body will lie in wait at Dad’s house the previous night. I’ve been told all of this and yet it feels unbelievable. Like she got away with it, bowed out just when the shit was hitting the fan. Left the rest of us behind to try and fit all the pieces of her destructive jigsaw into place.

Outside the window a tree sways back and forth, its roots keeping it in place when all it seems to want to do is get away. I am that tree, stuck to this slip proof flooring, wanting to run, my roots keeping me here. Part of me is sorry now that I told her I forgave her. I haven’t forgiven her, but something came over me while I was in there by her side. A kind of peace, brought on by the numbing ambience of the room. It seemed to seep into my soul, melt my anger.

But the anger is back now, brewing beneath the surface. How can Danny be so cool about all this?

In the distance I see Joanna rushing down the corridor, preened to perfection as usual, but as she gets closer I see her red eyes, the stress carved into lines across her forehead.

‘I’m so sorry, Danny,’ she says, hugging her husband before she gives my dad a hug.

Then she notices me standing at the opposite wall.

‘Oh, Becca,’ she cries. ‘I’m so sorry, Becca.’ She rushes towards me, flinging her arms out. I hug her back, feeling fake. This can’t go on any longer. My mind is telling me to say it now, get it over with; tell Dad I’m not his, that Nancy Wall is not my mother. But something is stopping me. I know that if I say it now, there’s no turning back. The whole world will explode around me.

After tossing thought after thought around my head, I decide to wait, to think about it, take control, like Jeff said. Pick my moment.

When Danny catches my eye I give him a hard stare, reminding him of the pain I’m going through. He moves over to my side and whispers in my ear.

‘Don’t crack now, Becca. Please, hang in there, you’re doing great.’

Doing great? What the fuck does he mean?

‘I have to go,’ I say, walking away from Danny, from Dad, from Joanna.

Barry is standing outside the front door when I rush out with tears streaming down my face.