Emma McGinley, sister to Chloe McGinley): Sometimes we pretend to be each other. Even Dad gets confused sometimes.
Emma: Let’s say it was Amy. She had figured out that she could blow into the horns on the necklace and it would make this whooshing sound. It’s hard to describe. Julius put it on – I think as a joke – and, whenever he turned around, the necklace made the sound. Chloe and Amy thought it was hilarious.
Julius: I don’t remember a necklace.
Amy: The necklace sounded like a bird whenever Dad moved about. I wonder what happened to it.
Emma: The twins were laughing, so Julius bought the necklace. It was twenty or thirty euros: a ridiculous price for what it was. I think the shop owner expected Julius to haggle – but he paid whatever the guy said. Julius has always been like that with money – make it, spend it.
Julius was putting on the necklace next to the counter but, as he was straightening, he winced, like there was a pain in his side.
Julius: Pain in my side? I don’t remember anything, but it was probably just a strain, or something. I’d have got it playing five-a-side, or maybe volunteering. I’m always helping out with something.
Emma: By the time we got out of the shop, the first taxi had appeared. Dad was shouting ‘three taxis’ at the driver because, apparently, that makes things happen quicker. I told Mum she should get in the cab, what with her condition and everything. She said: ‘Don’t be so silly, I’m not dead yet.’
She was quite defiant at that point. Mum never wanted to talk about the diagnosis and basically pretended it wasn’t there. She’d always been like that – putting everyone first, except herself. When we were growing up, she would always make sure that Julius and myself had eaten before she had something. I remember she once missed an Elton John concert because Dad had tickets to go to Silverstone. She loved Elton John and had always wanted to see him live – but then Dad said a mate had given him Grand Prix tickets, so they ended up going to that. She didn’t even query it.
So it was no surprise that, even in the heat at the airport, she told Julius he should take the taxi to get the girls out of the sun. I thought he’d insist that Mum should go first, but he shrugged and then got inside with the girls.
I remember looking across to Daniel and he seemed pretty annoyed by it all. He’s used to getting his own way and I can’t imagine him waiting for much.
Daniel: I was worried about Liz. That sun was very hot. She should have definitely been in that first cab.
Emma: Dad was marching up and down the pavement, muttering about when the next taxi would arrive. Daniel was busy doing nothing – because that’s what Daniel does. I don’t know what Liz and the rest were up to, but I was with Mum. It’s not a busy airport, but one of those big planes took off and there was a huge roar. It was so loud, it was like you could feel it, rather than hear it. Like the whole world was quaking. I remember Mum looking up, watching the plane go overhead, and she seemed so frail and small. It was her neck where you could see it the most. There were indents and dimples, almost like she was permanently breathing in. I think that was the first time where I really, really understood what was going to happen to her. After you get a diagnosis like she had, it’s all words at first. A doctor will say that something is going to happen, but it doesn’t necessarily mean much. Then I saw her like that and it was like everything was real.
Liz Dorsey (wife of Daniel Dorsey): Beth was starting to look really thin by the time we got to Galanikos. She kept trying to say she was fine, so I didn’t push her. If she wanted to talk about it, then she would.
Emma: I was trying to think of something to say – but then Mum started to talk. She goes: ‘Nine years, hey? I never thought we’d be back.’
We both looked across to the terminal and the statue that sits in front. It’s this giant bird-thing. A gull, maybe? When I was a girl and we used to visit, I remember that I always wanted to climb on