I close my laptop and jump as my phone rings. Ryan’s name flashes up. I’m torn between wanting to answer the call and wanting to reject it. I know he will have heard what has happened. Ryan always hears about things. He has his ear close to the ground in Creggan at the moment anyway. I know he’ll lecture me. Tell me I should’ve left well enough alone.

And yet, feeling scared and vulnerable in my own home, I also want to hear his voice. Our relationship, if you can call it that, might be very dysfunctional, but I still find some comfort in him.

I take a deep breath and answer the call, surprising myself to find that even on saying hello, my voice has a wobble to it.

‘I take it you’ve heard about Liam Doherty,’ he says. He’s brusque and to the point.

‘I have,’ I say.

‘I knew this was a bad idea. Dragging all this up, asking questions. We’ve put them in the line of fire.’

I bristle. ‘We haven’t reported anything that wasn’t already out there and we’ve certainly not printed anything that would have warranted this attack on Liam. The piece was well-received.’

Already I’m tired of this conversation. I wanted some comfort from him, not irrational blame.

He sighs. ‘Do we know who’s behind this? Is it Harte? Have you spoken to him?’

‘I spoke to him earlier. This afternoon. Look, I would be 99 per cent sure this has nothing to do with him,’ I say. ‘He’s too terrified to come anywhere near Derry. And I don’t think he’d have the wherewithal to arrange anything or be a part of anything. I believe there was a gang involved,’ I say, keeping quiet for now about my chat with Bernie.

I can almost hear the cogs whirring in his head.

‘Have you been up to Creggan? Are you going there?’

‘I’d thought you’d want me to stay out of it,’ I say, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice. ‘You don’t want us “dragging it all up”, remember? So no, I’ve no plans to go to Creggan.’

‘Things have already been dragged up and put on display,’ he says, his tone sharp. ‘This is the here and now. It has just happened. We should have a reporter on the scene.’

‘Then call one of the boys, or Trina. I’m home and I’m in my pyjamas and I’m not going out again.’

I know I’m not coming across as particularly professional, but then again, I’ve done an awful lot of things that cannot possibly fall into the domain of ‘professional’ when it comes to Ryan.

‘It’s not like you to walk away from a story,’ he says.