‘There’s no evidence that the restoration work was below standard. All the building regulations were met, the correct materials were used, in fact there’s some praise for the levels of fire retardancy that delayed the spread of the fire on the lower levels. It was an electrical fault in a control panel. The initial fire burnt out quickly, but sparks had travelled into the roof space where it was contained long enough to spread without being detected. By the time the alarm sounded, it was already out of control.’

Leanne had turned away with her hands over her ears, but Mal carried on.

‘It was a freak combination of failures that, on their own, would have caused minimal damage, but combined together, it was … Well, we know what it was.’

‘It was the end of the world,’ she said, her voice failing her.

‘The control panel was made in Lithuania, and the manufacturers have issued a recall. There may be a case for corporate manslaughter if it can be proven that they knew the fault existed before the fire, and that’s something that will be actively pursued. Justice might not look like we imagined, but it will come.’

‘And what happens to Phillipa?’ Leanne asked, twisting around to face him. ‘Does she get a slap on the wrist?’

‘Not even that.’

‘But she opened the theatre before the restoration was complete.’

‘The completion works in the function rooms were purely cosmetic and were only being carried out when the theatre wasn’t in use. All the health and safety measures were in place, every box was ticked.’

‘We can all tick boxes, Mal. It doesn’t mean a job’s been carried out competently,’ she said. ‘And what about the bad wiring? It must have contributed to the fire.’

‘There was no bad wiring. The building contractor has been exonerated. Declan Gallagher has been exonerated.’

‘But the alarms didn’t go off—’

‘The smoke was in the roof, above the sensors. Again, that’s something the investigators have picked up in their recommendations. And there’s some criticism too of the response from the fire brigade.’

‘Of course there is,’ Leanne sneered. ‘Let’s blame the men and women who risked their lives that day. Let’s point the finger at them so we’re not looking at the politicians who cut the budgets and decided that what Sedgefield needed was some swanky bistro with a fireman’s pole rather than an actual fire station.’ She stopped to suck air into her lungs in one gulp. ‘And let’s not upset the people who cared more about the aesthetics of the town than the well-being of its citizens.’

‘Leanne,’ Mal said, far too gently.

‘Stop!’ she replied, backing away. ‘Don’t be nice to me.’

‘Let’s sit down.’