So Maisie finally found the courage, strength and support to leave her husband. The kids had originally been called Bean-Fox because Maisie had insisted on keeping her name and Danny had agreed they could have both names: being a gobshite he’d thought Bean-Fox made them sound upper-class. It made it much easier after they split, as she immediately dropped Fox and it was as though Danny had never existed, at least for Maisie and Jeremy. For two lovely years afterwards Bridie had been Maisie’s partner and friend. They were happy, and once the kids had settled in, they felt secure for the first time in their lives. Maisie worked her two jobs, and Bridie helped with the kids. Things were good until Bridie started losing her reason and Maisie lost her rock. Every day Maisie felt her mother drifting away from her, little by little, piece by piece …

‘Oh, God, I miss you, Ma,’ she said now. It had just slipped out, and her hand went up to cover her mouth.

Bridie peered at her daughter through watery eyes, and Maisie’s heart threatened to stop. ‘I’ll have a T, please, Bob.’ Bridie raised her mug. ‘A T and a …’ She picked up a biscuit from the plate and stared at it intently, then dipped it into her tea, as though Maisie hadn’t uttered a word.

‘Sorry, Ma. I’m just feelin’ sorry for meself. It’s stupid. I’ll work it out. I love ya. Don’t you worry about a thing,’ Maisie said. She held out her hand but Bridie didn’t reach for it. She was just a human mound on a chair, eyes fixed on the TV, impenetrable and unreachable. Wounded, Maisie stood up and went to sit on the windowsill, looking out at the rain. Her mind moved on to more pressing matters. Hair up, not down, not in the rain. I’ve got a Revlon lipstick somewhere. Wide-legged black trousers— Her thoughts were interrupted when Bridie forgot she was holding her mug, dropped it and soaked herself. She cried out and Maisie was on her feet.

‘Ah, no! I don’t know why I keep messing up,’ Bridie said, upset – she hated any fuss.

‘It’s OK, Ma. We’ll sort it out.’

‘I didn’t drink me tea.’ In an instant Bridie was crying tears of frustration.

‘I’ll make you a new one.’

‘I’m covered in it! I’m filthy – look at me!’ Bridie pulled at her wet clothes, pointing at bits of biscuit on her otherwise pristine cardigan.

‘OK, Ma, calm down. I’ll put you in the bath.’

Bridie liked a bath so she calmed a little. ‘Silly me,’ she said, patting one hand with the other.

‘Silly you.’ Maisie gave her a big bright smile, letting her know everything was OK and nobody was in trouble.

Bridie grabbed her daughter’s hand and looked her in the eye. ‘I’m so very sorry, love.’