Joe could hear the water running into the kettle and then the squeak the tap always made when it was turned off.

‘Weeks he’s been home now and he’s never gone without me.’

‘There’s a first time for everything.’

She carried the kettle in and put it on the stove.

‘His friends were my friends.’

‘Can’t you leave him be. There’s no other boy in Derry had to take his old father around with him wherever he went. Making a show of him.’

‘They were always glad to see me, so they were … Always listened. Always engaged me in edifying conversation. They had time for me.’

‘Well, tonight they’ll have a bit of peace.’

‘You’re hard.’

‘It’s better to be hard than soft in the head.’

There was no reply to that one … The old man’s head drooped towards his chest. Some small worm of pity moved inside Joe.

‘Maybe he has a girl,’ he said and was instantly appalled by the words, by the possibility of the truth in the words, by the possibility …

‘A girl.’ His mother spoke with alarm. ‘Is that true?’

‘Wouldn’t I know if he had a girl? Haven’t I the boy’s confidence?’ His head had come up and he watched Joe’s face with care.

‘It was only a suggestion,’ muttered Joe.

‘Have you seen him with a girl?’ asked his mother.

‘How could he see him with a girl when he hasn’t a girl?’

‘Will you shut your mouth for a minute. Joe?’

‘No, I haven’t.’ God forgive me, I am becoming a truly hardened liar.

‘What did I say?’ The father was triumphant. ‘No word of a girl has ever passed his lips.’

The kettle sighed for a moment and then was silent again.

‘No word. And all the talk out of him.’

‘I wonder who she is.’

‘Mam, I didn’t really mean it. I only said it …’

‘Sure, why wouldn’t he have a girl. It’s a perfectly natural thing for a young man his age.’

‘I would have advised agin it.’

‘You would?’ Her voice was ironic.

‘Aye. I would. No point in getting mixed up with girls when you’re in the Movement. I know to my bitterness.’

She didn’t answer. She put the teapot down on the stove and poured some hot water into it. She carried the pot in her cupped hands out to the scullery.

‘You and your Movement.’

She disappeared into the darkness. The water from the pot splashed into the sink.

‘I would have advised agin it. And let me tell you, the boy would have listened to me. His father.’