Julian sends off a long-delayed wholesale consignment of jewelry to Liberty in London and worries that the stress and memories of recent years might be embedded in his work. He reflects on how much he leaned on his sister Maia after Orla left with their daughters during lockdown, recalling financial freefall, mounting domestic tensions, and their constant arguments about boundaries, money, and his refusal to sell to England.

He remembers the breakdown at home: a flooded kitchen, slug invasions, and late-night fights where Orla demanded he be a firmer parent and partner. Julian’s passivity and his principled boycott of selling to England became central points of conflict. Cian, usually quiet, finally warned him he would lose his family if he did not relent: “Sell to England. It’s just a place. It’s not your father.” By then, Orla had moved with the girls to her parents’ during renewed restrictions.

As business collapsed around him, Julian worked longer hours, felt shut out by unanswered emails and closed contacts, and endured stilted video calls and chilly outdoor visits with his children. A fellow tenant at the Old Chocolate Factory died by suicide, prompting hard conversations with Orla about despair; Julian assured her he would not take his life. Alone at home, he tried to repair the house and garden, and memories of their mother resurfaced, triggered by the scent of a fir tree.

Maia began letting herself in, and together they shared fragmented childhood memories: “Picnic Time” snacks under fir trees when their mother shielded them from their father’s rages; their mother’s silver jewelry and playful gecko stories at bath time. Maia revealed that their mother refused to name Julian “Gordon” and chose “Julian,” meaning “sky father,” to mark that he would rise above their father. After Maia finally recounted the night of their mother’s death, Julian shut down for two days, then woke with clarity in the shower: he was not his father, and there was an uncrossable chasm between him and that cruelty.

The narrative shifts to Maia’s love life: she and Meg reconnected at a barbecue, flirting through a playful volley of questions that led to Meg asking Maia home. Their relationship deepened into steady domesticity, with shared routines, Sunday beach walks, and Meg offering brisk, caring advice to Julian.

In June, Cian discovered Sílbhe collapsed on the living-room floor and kept vigil with her body through the night. He called Julian, who arrived and held him. Maia joined them, and the three spent the evening sharing memories. The coroner later reported Sílbhe had lived unknowingly with a hole in her heart; they marveled that she reached eighty-eight and all she had given them.

Back in the present, freed by shipping the Liberty order, Julian experiments at his bench and shapes a gently misshapen heart, thinking of his birthmark and his mother’s touch. He reflects on Orla’s fearlessness and her mothering, and when Orla texts that she has popped home and asks to meet, he sends her a photo of the exported consignment and sprints back. Orla, pacing in their house, senses he has changed on his own terms. Julian bursts in, breathless, declares, “I feckin’ love you… Come home,” and asks if she will come back to him. Orla smiles and nods, and they embrace, signaling their reconciliation.