‘For the excess you’d pay, and the increase in your premiums, it’ll be cheaper for you to do it yourself, and it’s not like you can’t afford it,’ Declan says.

His brother glares at him. Declan is almost tempted to smile. Almost, just to push his brother into losing his temper. There’s been a row brewing between the two parties for a long time now.

The air is thick with tension. Declan notices his ma looking between the two of them, her mouth a thin line. Her eyes dull, dark-ringed. She’s looking older, he realises. Stressed. He doesn’t want to make it worse.

‘It’s freezing out here,’ he says. ‘Ma, how about a cup of tea?’

She smiles. ‘That’s a good idea, son. I’ll put the kettle on.’

He walks to her, puts his arm around her shoulder. ‘You go in there and sit down and I’ll make the tea. Doesn’t that sound like a better idea?’

‘You’re a good son,’ she says. ‘You are both good sons.’

Declan would like it more if she could just compliment him without the need to compliment his brother, too. Niall gets enough praise.

He knows that makes him a little childish. He hates himself for it. He has always lived in Niall’s shadow and no matter what he has tried to do to direct attention his way, nothing has worked. He sometimes wonders if he is invisible.

If he were to disappear right now, he wonders would anyone even notice, let alone care. But he can’t allow himself to fall down that rabbit hole again. Not now. He is already low enough without making things worse for himself.

He switches the kettle on to boil, moves around the kitchen setting out mugs, putting biscuits on a plate. He doesn’t even hear Niall come into the room and jumps when he hears him speak.

‘You need to watch yourself,’ Niall says, his voice quiet but still with enough menace to make Declan freeze.

It can’t be possible that his brother knows with any degree of certainty that he is responsible for what happened to his car. He decides to say nothing, just to continue with his task of making the tea.

‘Are you listening to me?’ Niall says.

Declan takes a breath, turns to face him. ‘I am. But I’m not sure I’ve the first notion of what you’re talking about.’

‘Back off from Ingrid Devlin,’ he says, and Declan colours. ‘I’ve seen her today and you’re freaking her out. Creeping around. Calling at her apartment like some sad stalker. Is there actually something wrong with you?’ Niall taps the side of his brother’s head, his words dripping with venom.