We walked into the living room. They all had their shoes off and were dancing on the carpet to the end of that song. The carpet was clean. I cleaned it. There were spots of lemonade drying. My mum was still sitting down with that man.

‘Who’s that?’ Busola said.

‘That’s your uncle, Gerry, say hello,’ said Annie, going on dancing slowly so you couldn’t see her limp.

‘And who are you?’ he said, sitting forward on the sofa.

Busola looked at him a long time and didn’t answer. The music faded and the record span off into silence.

‘She says her name’s Kate. It’s still Kate?’ Tess asked.

Busola took off her wig and held it out so the comb came up like a claw out the fur, ‘No, it’s like that,’ she said, ‘Kat.’

‘Oh, she’ll claw your eyes out!’ said Annie.

‘Ah, kitty cat,’ Eileen said, reaching out to touch the wig. Busola whipped it away from her.

I liked the way Eileen and Carmel both moved back.

‘Then everyone’s to call you Kat,’ my mum said. ‘This is my brother, Gerry, and this is my daughter, Kat.’

‘Why don’t I know you?’ Busola asked.

He looked at my mum who blinked at him with her hands folded and let him answer. ‘That fella,’ he said, and he pointed at me, ‘saw me stand on my head. I’ve had my differences. Now I’m back on my feet.’

Busola looked at the wig, ‘What changed?’

‘Time changes things,’ my mum said. ‘We’re back now.’

‘Have you got children?’ I asked, because they’d be cousins.

‘No,’ he said.

My mum cleared her throat, ‘What do you want to do with that hair?’

Busola looked at her, and handed back the wig, ‘You look after it.’ Then she looked across at Gerry. ‘I’m Kat,’ she said, ‘but my real name’s Busola.’

My dad came back with whisky and crates of beer, cherryade which only Manus liked, more egg-flip, and fish and chips for everyone. I couldn’t eat mine, I still felt shook up from everyone coming, so I held on to Nana’s arm in the kitchen while she ate hers. There was music coming from the living room, and Busola was running with the girls up and down the stairs. The record changed and it was Chief Ebenezer Obey, one of my dad’s Nigerian ones. Tess raised an eyebrow at Annie who was standing smoking by the sink. Annie listened, took a puff and made a long face. I looked at Nana who was having trouble with a bone in her teeth and not noticing. Uncle Eamon saw me and said, ‘Are you listening?’

I nodded.

‘If you’re not eating, I’ll have that!’ And he grabbed my plate and pulled it to him.

‘Leave that!’ Nana said.

‘When there’s only bones, I will.’