The words began to tumble from her, things she had not known were true until she uttered them. That it had been as though something was stalking Michael. The drinking. How he had stayed by the window, watching the street, long after the strange car had left his driveway that afternoon. She talked until the room was purple with twilight. Gerry switched on a lamp and drew the curtains. She thanked him for listening and he put his hand on hers. The tenderness was so affecting she leaned to kiss him.

He pulled away gently from her mouth. It ain’t me, babe, he said.

She apologised and began to cry. He gathered her back to him.

Beside Gerry Devlin’s bed there was a copy of The Black Prince, a bookmark a few pages from the end. How little she knew him.

I’m sorry for taking a buck lep at you, she said, as she got in beside him.

It’s OK.

That night in your car. I thought you liked me.

I do like you. But I don’t fancy you. I kissed you because I thought you were expecting it.

She lay on her side, Gerry’s arm around her. He kept it there all through the night.

She called to the McGeowns’ house on her way home. The net curtain flapped, then the front door opened. Davy came hopping down the path as if he’d been waiting for her.

How’s that ankle? she said.

Up like a bap and all the colours of the rainbow, he said.

He linked Cushla’s arm and limped alongside her into the hall. She told him she was sorry to have missed his last day, that she had been sick. You still don’t look a bit well, said Betty. Cushla said she wasn’t too bad and apologised for the messing around over lifts.

Not at all, said Betty. Mr Devlin came to get him. He’s nice. She had a half-smile on her face.

All the girls say that.

You don’t?

Nah. He’s my friend, she said.

Seamie’s chair was empty. Betty said he had been taken away in a minibus for physiotherapy that didn’t seem to be doing him much good.

It might be a long haul, said Cushla.

Mandy came out of the kitchen. I’ve the kettle on, she said. She had plucked her eyebrows into fine arcs and flicked out her fringe. Cushla told her she was gorgeous and Mandy looked as though she might cry. Cushla cringed for her. She had hated being that age … both desperate to be noticed and mortified. Mandy made them tea and put a plate of buns on the table, insisting Cushla take one.

It was the first thing she had eaten for days. She said it was delicious.

My wee homebird, said Betty. She made them herself.