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in one hole and out of another,” Nessa shouted into the direction of the lounge as she giggled to herself whilst she continued to root around for something her granddaughter might find acceptable.
    Sophia rolled her eyes at her nan’s bluntness then stood up and shook out the blanket that was always left out for her ‘just in case’. Folding it and placing it on the arm of the sofa, she made her way to the kitchen.
    Deciding that soda bread and honey was the safest option, Sophia settled down on the pine kitchen bench as her nan fussed around her, clanging the cups before pouring tea into them.
    “So, darling; what happened last night? Has that son of mine been causing you girl’s grief again?” Nessa asked, trying to keep her tone light.
    Jamesie was the bane of Nessa’s life: of his whole family’s life, in fact. He was a violent bully and he caused poor Sophia and her mother Kaitlin nothing but misery and aggravation. He was a wretched git at the best of times, and Nessa could only imagine the tense atmosphere over at that house now he had lost his job. Nessa didn’t envy poor Kaitlin and Sophia having to live with him while he moped about the place drinking all the time, wallowing in self-pity. She couldn’t even bear to visit him, so God only knew what living with the man must be like.
    “Yeah, you could say that, Nan.” Sophia looked down at her hands. She took a deep breath before she continued: “He came in late, drunk again, so I snuck out the front door while he was shouting.”
    Sophia looked up and met her nan’s worried eyes.
    “He didn’t lay a hand on you, did he?” Nessa felt her body tense in apprehension as she asked the question. Her suspicions that he was hitting Kaitlin were bad enough, but if he had hurt Sophia Nessa would kill him.
    “No, Nan. No, he wouldn’t. Besides, I didn’t give him the chance; he didn’t even know I snuck out. He only hurts Mum; she just lets him. I don’t know why she puts up with it,” Sophia said miserably, unable to understand why her mum tolerated her dad’s behaviour.
    Nessa could tell that Sophia was relieved that she could confide in her, and Nessa was glad that she was able to. If it wasn’t for her granddaughter filling her in, she wouldn’t have known the half of what went on. Kaitlin was a lovely woman but she and Nessa weren’t close, not like how she and Sophia had always been. Nessa also knew that Kaitlin had her own problems. The woman popped so many pills that she almost rattled when she walked. ‘Happy pills’ she had called them when Nessa had caught her in the kitchen a while back eating the things like sweets. Nessa had told her to ask for a refund, because ‘happy’ certainly hadn’t made any sort of appearance in her life in a long while.
    “I don’t know what’s bloody wrong with that man,” Nessa said, feeling the familiar anger bubbling inside her at the thought of her son’s controlling temper and what this poor girl had to witness on a regular basis. “Had I known that he was going to turn out the way that he has done, I would have held his stubborn little head down in the bath water when he was a boy and drowned the bugger. I should have thrown him away and kept the bleeding stork.”
    Nessa hated to see worry etched on her young granddaughter’s otherwise perfect face. Her skin was flawless, a pale milky white, and Nessa adored Sophia’s vibrant red curls. She felt so protective of Sophia: she was the light of her life. She reminded her so much of herself, although looks-wise they were total opposites. Her granddaughter had real beauty, a trait which Nessa had never had the good fortune to be blessed with even in her younger days. Now in her early seventies Nessa was convinced that she had shrunk with age, whereas Sophia was very tall and skinny: ‘all limbs’, as Nessa liked to say. But it was the young girl’s personality that reminded Nessa so much of her own. Sophia had the same inner strength that