Jesus, she’d forgotten. What had possessed her to say yes to early morning babysitting? She sighed as she pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, last night’s various dramas hitting her again one by one. Zara’s pregnancy. Zara’s pregnancy. How were those words even possible? Eddie Hogan banging on the Murphys’ door. And Lily’s cry.

Mary would only be an hour, she said, but would Fran mind taking Lily out for some air? Fran would mind, if she was being honest – she was wrecked – but she nodded and smiled and agreed that air would do her good. Which was how she found herself out on the green that sunny Monday morning, at the ungodly hour of quarter past nine, sitting on the grass – yet again – this time making daisy chains with Lily. She reached across to slip a daisy into Lily’s hair. ‘Now, isn’t that pretty?’

Lily didn’t look up or smile. She’d been quiet since Fran arrived, with none of the usual non-stop chatter, and in spite of herself, Fran missed it.

‘Are you OK, Liliput? Tired?’

Lily looked up at her, then back down at the daisies in her hand.

From the corner of her eye, Fran spotted a figure coming out of the building site. Who was out at this time of morning? Squinting, she watched as he crossed the green. Gavin Bowman. That fella Gavin, as her mother would say. Lily looked over as he drew closer. And to Fran’s surprise, her face lit up and she smiled for the first time that morning.

‘Hide and Seek!’ she said, stretching her arms towards Gavin.

Fran opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again, curious to see his reaction.

‘We play Hide and Seek now!’ Lily said, arms still outstretched.

Gavin stopped, just feet away from them. His face was a question mark, his mouth an undecided O.

‘We play again? Hide and Seek?’ Lily asked, undeterred by the lack of response.

Gavin stood for another moment, head tilted, watching Lily, a strange look on his face. There was something about him. Primal. Yet polished. A pin-up boy with pieces missing. Cracks beneath the surface, caked in something dark and grimy. Suddenly, Fran wanted him gone.

Lily broke the silence.

‘Play?’

A slow smile slid across Gavin’s face. ‘Maybe we will.’

Fran reached down and took Lily’s hand, pulling her to her feet.

‘We have to go now, Lily – your mammy will be back any minute.’

Still, Gavin stood where he was, watching Lily; one hand in his jeans pocket, the other rolling and kneading what looked like a small ceramic lighthouse. It seemed familiar but Fran couldn’t remember where she’d seen it. She gripped Lily’s hand. Their route back across the green to Rowanbrook Drive wasn’t blocked as such, but they’d have to skirt around Gavin to get there. And why should they? She wasn’t scared of him. He was a year younger than her, for God’s sake. Though he was tall. Even taller than Fran, who had spent her whole life wishing she could shrink. She busied herself smoothing the skirt of Lily’s dress and re-buckling one red shoe. This was ridiculous. She stood up straight again. Gavin moved his gaze from Lily to Fran, then slowly turned and walked away.