‘Hi Granny,’ said Rosie. ‘We’re nearly home. Andwe’revery lucky to have you.’
‘You’ve slept the whole way,’ I said drily.
‘And now I’m awake,’ she said. ‘And ready for chats. I’ve been thinking about Rosaleen andhow much she would have loved to have met you, Rosie.’
‘She would,’ I agreed.
‘She was a very loving woman,’ said Nora. ‘One of those people who were happy out.’
‘Like you,’ I said.
‘Me?’
‘You’re always happy,’ I said. ‘Even when there is no reason to be.’
‘But isn’t that a good thing?’ said Rosie. ‘You’re making it sound like it isn’t.’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘It is and it isn’t. You don’t haveto be happy about everything.’
‘I’m not,’ said Nora. ‘There’s lots of things I’m not happy about. Like developers and nuns and the Catholic Church and female genital mutilation and people who don’t recycle and the fact that coffee is now a very complicated business altogether and all sorts. And selling school land. That kind of thing…’
I groaned.
‘But,’ she went on, ‘caring about those things,waking up in the middle of the night worrying about those things, does not stop me being deep-down happy.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Promise me something, Rosie…’
‘What is it, Granny?’
‘That you’ll follow your dreams, your calling, that you won’t be bound up by convention or beingnormal, whatever that is. Just be you. That you will carry on caring about things, that you will be passionate andcommitted and stand up for what’s right.’
Rosie nodded dutifully. ‘I will. I promise.’
‘Don’t be boring,’ went on Nora. ‘Whatever you do. Don’t be boring.’
‘Am I boring,’ I said, ‘because I didn’t hang out in fields or want a tattoo like the child you really wanted?’
‘No, you’re not boring, Tabitha,’ she said. ‘You’re brave like Rosaleen, strong. Interesting. Good-natured. Smart. You haveher look. In your eyes. And you have it too, Rosie.’
We were all silent for a moment. I was thinking of Rosaleen and Nora and me and Rosie, four generations of Thomas women. Life was nothing if not interesting. Life was fascinating, scary, frightening and wonderful, and I realised that I wouldn’t change a single thing about the two women I was driving home. And I wouldn’t change a single thingabout my life if it meant that I wouldn’t be here, right now, in this car, with these two. None of it. Not a thing. It was all over with Michael. And I was free. And Red wanted to talk to me. And I would have to tell him about the baby. And I didn’t know what he’d say. But it was time for full disclosure. It was time to be honest.
‘Tabitha?’
‘Yes, Mum?’
‘Can we stop for a moment? There mustbe a garage or something. I’m absolutely starving.’
Oh God. My mother had the munchies.
