A pantomime, says she. It’s a special kind of play for children. It was Cinderella. Do you know that story?

Aye, says I. Mummy Joy telt me it.

It was that story, says she. There were lots of songs, and there was a big fat man dressed as a lady, and they threw sweets to the children. And in the interval, they sold ice cream. Have you ever had ice cream?

No, says I.

I had raspberry ripple. I remember I ate it so quick it made my head hurt. Then we stopped for fish and chips on the way home.

Tell me about the seaside, says I.

Says she, We used to go to Newcastle for our holidays. We’d spend all day on the beach if it was sunny, or we’d go to the amusements if it was raining. I loved going to the amusements. We used to stay in the Slieve Donard Hotel. They have a lovely restaurant there, and dances in the evenings. I got lemonade and sweets while my daddy drank beer. Then he and my mummy would dance. I wish he hadn’t done what he did. Everything would be all right if he hadn’t done that.

I didn’t know what her daddy had done, and it didn’t feel right to ask. Instead, says I, I want to go to the seaside some day.

I’ll take you, says she. When we get out of here, we can take the bus to Newcastle or Portrush or maybe Portstewart, it has the nicest beach of them all, and we’ll go paddling in the sea.

Says I, Do you promise?

I promise, says she. But we have to get out of here.

We will, says I, and I hugged her tighter and she squeezed my hand.

I closed my eyes and imagined a long beach that went on forever and ever. I imagined walking into the water. I imagined Esther was with me and us holding hands like we did in thon bed.

And we fell asleep like that.

When I woke up, I could see the light through the cracks in the door, still weak, so I knew it was early. The Mummies slept on, but me stirring must have woke Esther up. I heard her breathing change and I felt her body move the tiniest wee bit.

Says I, I know how to do it.

Says she, What?

I know how we get out of here.

She was wide awake now, I could tell. She turned so she faced me.

Says she, How?

Daddy George, says I.

What do you mean?

Daddy George, he’s the weakest one of them. He’s soft for Mummy Joy and me. Daddy George is the one. He’s the way out.

19: Sara

19: Sara