‘Surely you’re not talking about me, Mum?’ Jo blinked, as she pulled her best innocent expression.

‘Of course not. Sure, you always were an angel,’ her mum said, her voice suddenly thick with emotion.

‘Yeah, but that halo was propped up with two horns. You just didn’t know the half of it!’ Jo teased and enjoyed the expression of confusion on her mother’s face. ‘I’m only kidding, Mum. Now, you better get going or Clara will be late for school and you’ll get a bad look from the school secretary.’

In all the things that were considered a fate worse than death, a bad look from the school secretary of Clara’s school was definitely a top-five contender. She’d an expression that could turn a man, woman, or child to stone.

‘God forbid,’ her mother said, crossing herself.

Jo pecked her mum on the cheek and crouched down to give Clara a hug.

‘Now, you be a good girl and I’ll bring you back a surprise with me. I love you.’

Clara nodded, her expression was serious and then she wrapped her small arms around her big sister and squeezed her tightly.

‘Come on, ladybug,’ her mother said. ‘We’d best be off.’

With a reticence that pulled at Jo’s heart, Clara extricated herself from the hug and followed her mother out of the door. Jo knew that Clara would be better than fine. She knew that within a minute, she would be holding her mum’s hand tightly and swinging her arms as she walked to school and chatted about her routine. It was just Jo who had to fight her mythical guilt demons.

‘No,’ she said aloud as she looked at the affirmations her mother had stuck around the hall. ‘Today is for positivity. I am in control. I am successful. I can do this.’

22

Are We There Yet?

Jo had arranged to meet Ewan at the Bishop Gate Hotel right in the centre of Derry, just off The Diamond. She figured it was much easier to meet him at a central spot rather than try and direct him through the streets of Derry to find her home. It also gave her a little bit of control over her own nerves as she didn’t have to sit, impatiently, on the edge of the sofa jumping every time a car pulled up outside in case it was Mr McLachlan himself.

She was already jumpy enough. Every time her phone pinged with a new message, she felt her heart skip a beat. Auntie Mags was first to text to wish her luck and tell her that she loved her very much. She added that she too would never, ever drink again and she hoped very much to make it through the day. ‘Another Crochet Club with not a single crochet stitch done. That’s a win!’ the message ended.