‘And if it goes on any more,’ Busola said, ‘I’m going to tell him what you’ve said.’

That stopped them. Annie mumbled about putting poison down for the rats. Tess swore she hadn’t a thing to apologise to the dog’s bollocks and flicked her ash at me, so I had to shut up and think about it.

But Busola wasn’t finished, ‘And what’s more, that’s your husband they’re talking about. You’ve got to stop them!’

My mum went bright red.

‘Jesus, Bridie, put a stop to that!’ Annie said. ‘Look how she’s talking to you!’ And she stood up to show she’d take her leg off and brain you if she wanted – she had a bad leg from falling over her husband down the stairs. ‘The sheer, bloody mood on her!’

‘And look at you,’ Busola said, ignoring everyone except my mum, ‘your eyes all red and puffy. You look like a lobster!’

My mum tried to quieten her down.

‘You’re just like them!’ Busola said.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Tess was standing up to the row that was brewing by stubbing her fag out on the saucer.

‘Drinkers!’ said Busola, wrinkling her nose up.

‘What’s wrong with that?’ said Tess. ‘Sitting down to a cup of tea?’

But Busola was making for the door. She’d seen something I hadn’t – before she could slam it my mum had her off-balance, holding tight on her wrist, ‘You’re so common!’ She spat it out so Busola had to think about it a second. ‘Aren’t you?’

That gave Tess and Annie the chance to laugh at Busola. But my mum opened her eyes wide and switched sides away from them. ‘This is my marriage. His people don’t want it, out there they don’t like it, if my own people can’t support me, they can go. Is that clear?’ She was still holding Busola by the wrist and digging her nails in. ‘You,’ she said, ‘are not to come between me and your father.’

But that’s what Busola did. She told him my mum spoke to the priest about a separation and my dad blew up and told her she could go back to her family. She got rid of my mum and we blamed her. Connor punched her in the playground and she tried to get him to punch her in front of our dad. When he wouldn’t, she called him a coward and went on hunger strike saying he’d punched her in the stomach and she couldn’t eat.

‘Did you punch her?’ my dad said.

‘No.’

‘Did you see it?’ he asked me.

‘No,’ I said, in front of her, ‘they ran into each other.’

‘Yemi?’

Manus shrugged, ‘I wasn’t there.’