Lena shook her head in abject disbelief at what had happened. ‘Bless him, my waters broke, I told him to get you, his nana and locate his father, in that order and, before I knew it, this little one was here. Within fifteen minutes of my waters going, she was out. It was so quick. Poor Davey saw it all, he was in a right two and eight. But he was a trooper, Ria, he looked after me.’

Lena would never forget the shock on his face as his sister slid into the world. It was a mixture of wonderment and disgust. He was only fifteen and the mystery of birth was as alien to him as knitting himself a crash helmet. But, in fairness, he had been good, he had done everything he was asked to do and with the minimum of fuss.

Holding his new little sister in his arms Lena had seen the look of pure love in his eyes, and she had also seen the natural way he had held the child to him. He had grown up in that moment. Her Daniel, after four children, had never once held any of them with such confidence. Davey had looked at her with tears in his eyes and said huskily, ‘It’s a miracle, Mum.’ He seemed utterly overwhelmed.

Lena was glad to know that one of her boys had a heart in there. She worried that her sons might only have inherited their father’s worst characteristics: the tendency towards the dramatic, the anger that was never far from the surface, the aggression that emanated from him at times. But she knew now, and she blessed herself unconsciously as she said thanks be to God and his Holy Mother, that Davey, at least, had the same capacity for loving as his father did.

It was a revelation to her, and she felt a calmness come over her because of it. She knew that the boys were Daniel’s, were his from the day they could follow him around. She had only had her sons to herself until that point. Oh, they loved her, she knew that, but they all idolised their father. Danny Junior was a good lad but, like his father, capable of great violence, and already strong as an ox to boot. Her Davey had proved today that he was capable of great emotion but she was well aware that that could translate into hatred and anger as well as love. Noel and Jamsie were still only boys, and they would follow where the elder ones led. They already had the makings of hard men – it was in their genes. Oh, yes, all four of her sons would be men of substance – her husband would make sure of that. And there was nothing she could do about it.