‘He has a record, you know. ABH, breaking and entering – that kind of thing. I’m sure someone at The Chronicle might have covered it at some stage. Someone at the Derry Journal definitely will have. He was a frequent flyer at the magistrates’ court in his time. The reports might not have all the details, but I can tell you, Ingrid – some of the charges relate to harassment of women. At least one of the breaking and entering charges relates to the house of one of his ex-girlfriends. If I were you, I’d be very careful about what I let him know about your routine, your home. Anything.’

I pull back, sit up in my chair. Think of Declan and his smile, and his helplessness. I think about what he has actually done in my presence. It might not have been suitable for him to call at my flat, but he hasn’t tried anything on. I’ve felt uncomfortable, yes, but not threatened.

‘Might just be worth asking the police to look into his whereabouts when your car was attacked – and your flat, for that matter.’

I shake my head. No, that’s just ridiculous.

‘Ingrid.’ Niall’s voice is low and soft. ‘I’m not trying to scare you,’ he says, ‘I promise.’

‘I want to go home,’ I stutter, and I don’t wait for any further revelations – I just stand up and push my way out of the café, towards the car park.

I’m vaguely aware that he is following me. He’s calling my name. Can I take him at face value, or is everyone involved in this entire sorry mess as deceitful as each other?

‘Ingrid, please. I didn’t mean to scare you,’ he shouts as I hurry to my car.

A passing security guard must have heard, because I hear him approach me.

‘Are you okay, miss? Is this gentleman bothering you?’

I don’t know whether to nod or shake my head. I just stand there like a stupid rabbit caught in the headlights.

‘Ingrid, please. I just wanted you to know. I want you to be careful.’

Realising he’s not going to be getting an answer from me, the security guard walks behind me. I turn round just in time to see him raise his hand in a ‘Stop!’ gesture and ask Niall to step back.

‘I don’t think the lady wants to talk to you,’ the security man says in his broad Derry accent, his voice husky as if he has smoked all his life, including his childhood.

‘Look, she’s upset. Someone has been bothering her and I just want to make sure she gets home okay. Gets to her car okay. It was vandalised here last night.’

The security guard cops on to who I must be and which car is mine.