I wish she’d stop calling me that.

Bridie felt the softness of her bedsheets beneath her. She was in her dressing-gown. She looked up at her daughter, who was brushing her hair for her.

‘I love my dressing-gown, Maisie.’

‘I know ya do, Ma.’

‘That and …’ She thought about it for a second. She could see a picture in her head of a rollneck but she couldn’t think of the word. She put her hand to her neck. ‘That and …’

‘Jammies?’ Maisie enquired.

‘No,’ she said, her hands still hovering around her neck. ‘That and …’

‘Oh, the butterfly nightdress?’ Maisie said.

‘No. No. No.’ She felt frustrated: she could see the picture so clearly in her head. ‘The one that goes up around your neck.’

‘A rollneck?’ Maisie said.

‘That’s it! I love a rollneck, Maisie. But not on a nightdress. That wouldn’t work at all.’

Maisie smiled at her and Bridie smiled back. ‘Your daddy loves me in a rollneck,’ she said, slapping her thigh and laughing.

Valerie

Valerie was sketching a picture of an eagle at the kitchen table when Jeremy walked in. He was drenched. ‘Ma’s going to have an eppo if she sees you in that state,’ she said, without looking up from her drawing.

He sloshed around the kitchen, grabbing a drink of milk from the fridge. ‘I’ll be grand,’ he said. ‘Rain never killed anybody.’

‘I’m not sure that’s true,’ Valerie said.

Jeremy had been going to the gym religiously for the past year and Valerie could see it was making a big difference. He was growing into himself: he wasn’t the skinny kid he used to be. He was becoming a man. She was still a skinny kid. She wondered if she would fill out.

‘What are ya lookin’ at?’ he said, conscious that she was staring.