They went. You didn’t mess with him in this mood.

‘Get in front of me. What do you think you’re playing at? You haven’t got a brain between you. Fire. Know what that is? It kills, it burns, it chokes you. Don’t you ever sneak out of the house in the middle of the night again, hear me? And look at you, you’ll catch your death.’

‘Aw, Dad . . .’

‘In the house. You heard. Right, I’m getting breakfast, you’re eating it, and then I need my kip, and you’re staying inside, and there’s no Xbox and no –’

‘Dad! You can’t do that.’

‘See if I can’t. Connor, get the eggs, and there were four sausages in the fridge, last I knew. Brookie, toast.’

‘Dad?’

‘Toast I said.’

‘I’m getting it. Dad, they said there was a man in there burned to death, is that true?’

Vince Roper paused. He hadn’t hung about the square long enough to hear anything, he’d gone with just the one purpose.

‘Margarine should be in the fridge, where is it?’

‘Dad . . .’

‘Tomatoes.’

‘Noooooo.’

‘You heard. You got to eat healthy.’

‘Dad . . .’

‘Who told you this, about a man being in there?’

‘Everybody was talking about it.’

‘That all? Just rumour and gossip?’

‘Must have been true.’

‘No it mustn’t, people make stuff up, gives them some sort of buzz – a sick one, ask me.’

He scooped sizzling oil over the sausages, slipped eggs into the pan. Thought. No smoke without fire, ha ha, but why and how did a fire like that start? There could have been a man in the shop, easily, the Chinese, gone back to fetch something, working late. Could have been.

Or someone else.

‘Plates! And when you’ve eaten that, you can go back to bed, stay up, do anything you like, only you stop in, right? I’ll know if you’ve so much as sniffed the air, any of you.’ He punched his fork into the egg yolk. They had their heads bent, not catching his eye, scoffing. He wasn’t as mad as he’d made himself sound, but then, they knew that, more or less. Just couldn’t be quite sure. Vince smiled to himself.

‘Dishes,’ he said, leaving the kitchen ten minutes later. Brookie was putting more bread into the toaster. Hanging round the fire scene before dawn had given them an appetite.

The whole of Starly stank of it. Vince walked round the far side of the square but the cordon was still in place, police were patrolling and two fire engines remained. Three men were standing beside the Salvation Army wagon with steaming drinks, so he ducked under the rope.

‘Any chance I could buy a tea off you? I’m not a firefighter but have just come off nights.’