‘What about you and, what’s her name?’

‘Now that was different.’

‘How?’

‘End of story, okay?’ He stubs the cigarette out on the outside wall and lights another. Still chain smoking. She remembers when he started, age fourteen, hanging out with a group of older boys down the allotments.

‘Why didn’t you come to Dad’s funeral?’ He chucks the dead match in the bushes.

‘Why do you think?’ She takes the tea bags out of the cups and chucks them in the sink. The empty baby bottles are little soldiers lined up on the windowsill, waiting. Her hands start to tremble.

‘He wasn’t always like that. He had your best interests at heart.’ Ray speaks out of the corner of his mouth, the cigarette dancing up and down on his lips.

‘He sent me away to get rid of my baby. Told me I was a cheap tart like Mum. Never even came to see me.’ She stands up straight and faces him.

‘He was still hurting after Mum did a midnight flit with the butcher, but you probably wouldn’t remember.’ He carries the mugs to the table. ‘He was trying to protect you.’

‘Why didn’t you stick up for me? Weren’t you on my side?’

‘There were no sides, you know that. It was Dad’s way or no way.’

‘Yeah well, now he’s dead.’

‘You know Tony’s out of prison, right?’

‘Is he? You don’t think it was him, do you?’ Alison can feel the colour drain from her cheeks.

‘I doubt it. The police will be checking him out.’

‘Do you think he has something to do with Adam disappearing?’

‘All I know is that he wants to come and see you.’

‘What for?’

‘Didn’t make the best choice, did you? Should have stuck with him.’

‘Are you serious? He was inside for stabbing Adam. He’s a bloody control freak.’

‘And Adam’s any better?’

‘He wouldn’t do something like that.’

‘Seriously?’ Ray laughed.

‘Adam and I did have a row. He went mental about me getting pregnant again and he’s dead against getting married. I don’t understand why. I thought it’s what we both wanted.’

‘Always full of excuses that one. Dad could see right through him. Only used him because he was good at breaking bones, simple as that.’

‘That’s not the Adam I remember and that’s not what he was like when we met up again. He’s always been kind and thoughtful until recently.’

‘You don’t know the half of it. Talk about Jack the lad.’

‘He’s always been faithful to me.’

‘Know that for sure, do you?’

‘Yeah, I trust him.’

‘Dad paid him to leave. He gave him a new identity. All the papers, passport, driver’s licence, everything, so he could start again, become someone else.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before? Have you told the police?’