‘Fuck off, you weirdo,’ she said. ‘She’s the one I was telling you about, girls, the woman at the workshop who––’

‘I’ll fuck off in a minute. Gladly. But I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say directly from me. And I’d hate to have to go through your parents or the school or, how can I put this, other more official channels.’

Carmel’s top teeth closed over her bottom lip.

‘I suppose I can spare a minute,’ she said, after a pause.

She climbed off her stool, sulked her way over to me, and sat down.

‘What do you want?’

‘To talk to you,’ I said. ‘About you know who.’

‘I don’t, actually,’ she said. ‘This is getting weirder and weirder,’ she said then, more loudly, looking back in the direction of her friends.

I leant across the table.

‘Do you want me to say his name? Because I will, you know. And I won’t just say it to you, I’ll––’

‘Okay, okay,’ Carmel said. ‘I know who you’re talking about. The man we met at the workshop.’

‘Thank you,’ I said.

‘Are you, like, obsessed with him or something?’

‘In a way I am,’ I said. ‘But not for the reasons you might think. And not for the same reasons you might be.’

I waited for a denial or a retort, but none came, and that was the moment I knew for sure that Gill had been communicating with her, that he had been grooming her. I was less certain if he had met her. He might have. But he hadn’t touched her. I was sure of it.

‘He’s forty-eight years of age, Carmel,’ I said. ‘And you’re fifteen.’

‘And your point?’ she asked, but she spoke quietly. ‘You do have a point?’

‘My point is that, like I said at the workshop, any private communication between a forty-eight-year-old man and a fifteen-year-old girl should only be with parental consent. And I’m not a parent, and I don’t know yours, but I can’t imagine any circumstances where they would give consent.’

She made no reply but something like doubt crept into her face. I should have said nothing, let her talk next. Instead, overconfident, I asked a question that alerted her to just how little hard information I had. I knew it was a mistake the second it left my mouth.

‘Has he been contacting you?’

She tilted her chin upwards, and smiled slowly.

‘Of course he hasn’t been contacting me, you pervert,’ she said. ‘That would be illegal. You know, you’re the sick one, not him. You’re the one with the dirty mind. Oh my God you’re so fucking pathetic, do you know that?’

She stood and pushed back her chair. Without looking at them, she called to her friends at the counter.