It had stopped snowing when Ruby left the house and the day was bright but bitterly cold as well as being perilous underfoot. By the time she reached Vera’s, Ruby had nearly gone full length a few times. They spent an emotive but happy hour or so together, although Ruby was secretly shocked at how frail the old lady had become in her absence. She left promising that she’d return in the near future when she paid another visit to her mam and da. With her father’s health the way it was, and now Vera appearing old and enfeebled, she had already decided that she would try and make regular visits home. But she wouldn’t return for good. On that she was crystal clear.

Her mam had told her she was making panackelty for their lunch, and as Ruby walked home, treading gingerly on the ice and snow, she could almost taste it. No one made panackelty like her mam so that the potatoes absorbed all the flavour of whatever meat and stock she used and the onions almost caramelized, the whole dish going deliciously crusty at the edges. Her mouth watering, Ruby remembered how she and Olive had used to fight for the privilege of scraping round her mam’s roasting tin for the remainder of the crust.

The meal was ready almost as soon as she got home, and once she had taken her father’s tray in to him, she and her mother sat down at the kitchen table, eating together in a companionable silence that Ruby would have thought impossible only the day before.

They had just cleared away the dirty dishes and her mam was at the range making a cup of tea when the back door opened and Olive walked in, Alice in her arms. Olive stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Ruby, her face lengthening with her surprise and her mouth falling slightly open.

Ruby stood up, but although she had gone over this scenario a hundred times in her mind over the last few days, now that it was happening she found herself tongue-tied. They were standing regarding each other now, both unsmiling, and Ruby could feel the same hot colour in her cheeks that was staining Olive’s face red.

It was the child in Olive’s arms, squirming and calling, ‘Gamma, Gamma,’ that broke the deafening silence, and then Cissy bustled forward, her voice over-loud to hide her own embarrassment as she said, ‘Come to Grandma, my little angel, and let’s get your hat and coat off, and then you can say hello to your Auntie Ruby.’