He makes a show out of pulling his ear buds from his pocket, lowering his head and engrossing himself in working the knots free that have formed in the cable, hoping she’ll take the hint.

‘You’re tangling the wire even more. Want me to try?’ She holds out her hand.

Connor hesitates. They’re only cheap but he doesn’t want to pass them over to a complete stranger.

‘You into that grime or whatever the in thing is right now?’ she asks.

‘Nah.’ He glances at his hands. She’s right – he’s been twisting the knots tighter. He hands them over. ‘I like Oasis. The Arctic Monkeys.’ Old-school vinyls that Fergus used to play whenever he was at Ryan’s. He’d taught him a lot about music.

‘Ooh, indie boy. I was a goth when I was young.’

‘The Cure and all that Sisters of Mercy shit?’

‘Nah, I was all The Smiths – depressed as fuck. I stomped around hating my mum for my crap body and my crap life and my crap everything. Until she wasn’t there anymore and I couldn’t blame her. That’s who I was visiting today. In the cemetery.’

Connor doesn’t answer. Partly because he is uncomfortable with a stranger divulging such personal information and partly because he is wondering how he’d feel if his mum wasn’t around anymore. Knowing he’d miss her. Would she miss him if it were the other way around or was she so fixated on Kieron she’d be glad she had one less responsibility?

They turn onto Deene Street.

Connor raises a hand at Ryan and Tyler.

‘These your mates?’

‘Yeah. This is Ryan. Tyler.’

‘The three wise monkeys, eh?’

‘What?’ Connor wasn’t sure if she’d just insulted them.

‘You know, hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil. Between you, you’ve got it all covered.’

‘Right,’ Ryan monotones. ‘And you are?’

‘A friend of Connor’s here.’

Connor kicks at the kerb, embarrassed. He’s known her all of ten minutes and she’s old.

‘Here you go. All sorted.’ She drops his ear buds back into his hand.

‘Ta.’ He stuffs them back into his pocket.

‘You lot off to school?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Last year?’

‘Of sixth form.’ Connor pointedly checks his watch, hoping she’ll take the hint. ‘We’ve gotta—’

‘And you still have to wear a uniform – unlucky!’

Ryan raises his eyebrows at Connor in a let’s-get-out-of-here-way but she’s still talking.

‘I customized mine. Was really into sewing. I stitched those fabric badges you get with different band names on into the inside of my blazer, covered the lining. I was a rebel on the inside even if the teachers couldn’t see it on the outside. I knew they were there. Don’t suppose you boys sew. Learn loads of useless crap at school but not the basics.’