‘Are you sure you don’t have an eye for him yourself,’ said Seamus moodily, not looking up from his cup, which he held in two hands just under his nose.

Nola roared with laughter. ‘Seamus, sometimes you really are an eejit. I am old enough to be his granny and just because he has tried to foist all manner of mod cons on me to make life easier, none of which I have wanted, doesn’t mean I turn to mush. God in heaven, I am past all of that nonsense, and besides’ – her voice softened – ‘haven’t I the best man in Tarabeg in you?’

Despite himself, a grin spread across Seamus’s face. ‘Do you remember the day he came back from one of his trips to America and brought you that bloody great big Kenwood Chef food mixer?’

Nola began to chuckle at the memory. After a drink or five, if it was mentioned, she would laugh until the tears ran. ‘Oh God, I remember his face when I said, “And what do I do with this?” as I held the plug in the air. It was his expression, when he looked at the wall for somewhere to stick it, knowing full well there wasn’t anywhere! Never mind, it looks nice on the top of the press, it’s a lovely ornament.’

She rapped her knuckles on Joe’s door harder still. ‘What time did he get back into the village from Galway?’

‘About one in the morning, I’m guessing. He saw the lights in Paddy’s and stopped. Maybe Peggy sneaked into the boot of the car and she’s in there with him.’

Nola rapped again and was pulled up short by the sound of the enamel plates clattering in the sink and then the door slamming as Pete walked out.

‘Feck,’ said Seamus, ‘what’s up with him?’

For a moment Nola looked at the slammed door with a frown. ‘Seamus, is there any chance that when it comes to Peggy’s name in this house, you could keep your mouth shut and your opinions to yourself?’

‘Why, what have I done now?’

Nola had no time to reply as the door to the room that had once been Michael’s swung open and Joe stood there in his vest and long johns. ‘There’s a lot of doors banging around here,’ he said with a grin, and then, spotting Seamus, stepped into the room. ‘My head is killing me,’ he said.

Seamus grinned back. ‘Well, you turned some heads in Paddy’s last night with your dancing. I imagine there’s a few of them still spinning in the village. Did you hear Josie giving out to Paddy, telling him if she was forty years younger, ’twould be you she’d be marrying with her butcher’s shop, not Paddy.’

Joe laughed. ‘Was that the dowry of the day, the butcher’s shop?’ He reached out to the teapot. ‘Or did Paddy marry for love?’ Nola flicked his hands with a tea towel. ‘Ouch,’ he yelped and looked up, hurt.