‘Just what I wanted,’ she said, as she put them side by side on the table for him to admire.

Her voice was ironical, she was herself again.

‘Who gave you those yokes anyway?’ asked his father, who never gave anyone presents, even at Christmas.

‘The only person who loves me.’

‘Poor eejit’ was his only comment.

The slippers had remained on the table throughout the meal. No one had ever mentioned them again.

‘No sign of Brendan waking?’ she asked as he came in from the scullery and sat down.

He shook his head.

She picked a saucepan off the stove and poured hot milk over his corn flakes. He hated hot milk on his corn flakes, they all went soggy and tasted of warm cardboard, but there was never any use arguing with her. Then he always had two pieces of toast with either runny butter or jam. Money doesn’t grow on trees. And a cup of tea, or two if he had the time. She drank her own tea as she moved around settling the place, wiping the top of the stove, mopping out the scullery, washing and wringing out the tea towels and hanging them up above the stove to dry.

‘He’ll have to get his own breakfast so. I can’t be hanging on here for him. He can’t expect me to be running round after him. He’s not a child. He doesn’t need caring for any longer. He’ll have to get that into his head if he’s going to stay here.’

‘I don’t need caring for,’ said Joe, through a mouthful of toast.

‘That’s a matter of opinion.’

‘I help, don’t I? Do things. The fire and things.’

‘You do, son. My teeth are paining me.’

‘They’re always paining you. You should go to the dentist. At school they’re always going on about us going to the dentist.’

‘And what good would that do me? He’d only take them out. God knows I’m no film star, but I’d rather be with my teeth than without them.’

There was a long pause.

‘Your Dad has all his teeth yet. Not a bit of trouble with them in all these years. He had lovely teeth in his day. He’s an old man.’ She repeated the words fiercely. ‘An old man.’

‘Why did he come back?’

‘Who? Your socks are there on the stove. Do you want an apple? I’ll get you one to put in your bag.’

‘No thanks.’

‘Ah, take an apple. It’ll be a bit of good inside you.’

She took an apple from a paper bag in the cupboard and put it on the table beside him.

‘Fruit does you good.’

He might be able to swap it for something better.

‘But why, Mam? He had a good job over there. He was making a packet.’

‘You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.’

‘You mean you think he’s lying?’

‘I’m not committing myself. He should be a good boy. That’s all I have to say.’