He sat for a few moments wondering how in the world he was supposed to break this news to Maisie but also keenly aware that time was running out: the vultures would descend soon enough. The house phone started to ring. Oh, shite. He ran into the kitchen in time to hear Valerie’s urgent ‘Jeremy?’ He saw her face change. ‘What?’

‘Put down the phone, love.’

‘What did you just say?’ Her face changed colour.

‘Valerie, put the phone down!’ he shouted.

Maisie, still in her dressing-gown, looked at him with raised eyebrows. Bridie was sitting at the table. She was dressed but her hair was a mess. ‘Where’s Jeremy?’ she piped up.

‘What the bleedin’ hell? Who do you think you are?’ Valerie said into the receiver.

‘Give me the phone, Valerie.’ Fred held out his hand, his voice still raised.

‘Yeah, well, you can go and get fu—’

Fred grabbed the phone and hung it up. Valerie, Maisie and Bridie all stared at him, waiting for answers. ‘The papers are running a story about the boys. They’re saying that they’re …’ He was scrambling for the right word. ‘Homosexual’ sounded so technical.

‘Faggots,’ Valerie said. ‘They’re sayin’ they’re faggots.’ Tears welled in her eyes.

The last bit of colour drained from Maisie’s face. She found a seat and sat down. ‘Why would they say that?’ she asked, in a hoarse whisper.

Bridie put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and gripped it firmly. ‘They’re liars and liars lie, isn’t that right?’ she said to the room.

Fred didn’t know if Bridie really understood what was going on. She seemed too calm.

‘Jeremy’s a good boy.’ She got up and walked into the sitting room.

No one followed her. Instead Valerie and Maisie waited for an explanation. Fred took a chair beside Maisie. ‘Sit down, Valerie.’

Maisie put a hand on his arm. ‘Fred, please explain what the hell is going on.’

She was hanging on for dear life, he thought. He placed his hand on hers.

‘All right, Mai, I’ll try.’ And he started talking.

Bridie