Jeremy was preoccupied with his sweaty hand. He tried to loosen Deirdre’s grip but she was having none of it.

‘How’s Maisie?’ Rave asked Jeremy. He always liked a little small-talk before they all got down to business.

‘She’s on a date,’ Jeremy said.

‘No way!’

‘Yeah.’ Jeremy sighed, giving away a little of his despair.

‘Jesus,’ Casey said. ‘I hope she doesn’t get pregnant.’

Rave and Deirdre laughed. Jeremy’s face was set in stone.

‘So who’s she dating?’ Rave asked.

‘The copper.’

‘What copper?’

‘Flintstone.’

Rave sat forward. ‘No way! Fuckin’ told ya he was after her,’ he said, looking to the girls. ‘He’s a cool—’

‘Yeah, he’s great.’ Jeremy cut him off. He didn’t want to talk about it. The calm he’d felt earlier about his ma going on a date had slipped away and instead there was just worry: worry that he wasn’t at home while she was out, worry that she’d have a bad time, worry that she’d have a good time …

‘Jesus! Maisie and Flintstone, that’s one for the books,’ Rave said.

Casey leaned back against Rave’s chest while he finished off the sandwich. ‘My ma said if my da died she’d never love again.’

‘That’s romantic.’ Deirdre played wistfully with a strand of her hair.

‘I know,’ Casey said, ‘and comforting. I mean, who wants to deal with that?’ She looked over at Jeremy. ‘Sorry, Beany.’

He raised his shoulders. It is what it is. Deirdre squeezed his sweaty hand in solidarity.

When Rave had drained the bottle and finished eating he gave Jeremy the signal. It was just a simple tilt of his head to the left, but it meant ‘Clear off: it’s time for business.’

Jeremy and Deirdre had read it and stood up.

‘There’s a spot over there.’ Rave gestured as he slung his arm around Casey’s neck. She caught his hand and kissed it. Jeremy’s stomach knotted. He could feel the vodka climbing back up his throat. He and Deirdre moved just far enough away and under enough cover to have some privacy. She lay down and he sat in beside her, squeezing himself into the tight space under the big bush. It was easier to lie under it but he insisted on sitting, even though he had to pull stray leaves out of his hair every few moments.

Deirdre seemed glad to be alone. ‘I missed you earlier.’

‘Yeah, sorry, I had to go.’

‘You always have to be somewhere.’

‘Busy man, me.’

‘You should slow down. You’ll do yourself an injury with all that rushing around.’

‘Maybe someday.’

‘Are you going to lie down with me?’ she asked.