‘What good does your singing do, woman? Apart from driving me mad.’
‘Doctor Roberts said it, Tom. We have to make him want to stay alive.’
‘It’s miserable. All the boy needs is peace and quiet.’
‘No, he doesn’t. Death is quiet.’
Tom looked set to explode. Bridie didn’t blame him. She didn’t want to think of Billy’s body growing stiff and cold, his freckled face setting into a bland last smile.
‘I’m not saying he will die. But if he was to, you know … slip over the side, well, at least he’d know I was with him, right to the end.’
‘Look at him, Pam. He don’t know what the bloody hell’s going on.’
‘That’s not true,’ Rhys interrupted softly. ‘Siân’s great aunt, Rhonwen, said nothing’s a waste while a body’s alive.’
Tom’s lips curled. ‘Ah, that’s right, the witch.’
‘Not a witch, a heal
