“Minutes crept by and the tension in the kitchen rose, as did the noises from the hall. If it weren’t for the scribbles coming from oblivious Sinead, Tony might have been able to pick up the odd word. His mum had sat very still this whole time, but rose abruptly, as if responding to some cue that Tony had missed. She tiptoed over to the door, opening it and peaking her head out to the hall.
When her head returned to the kitchen, her face had drained of colour and her eyes were glazed over.
‘Mum? What’s wrong?’ Tony broke the silence.”