‘Lucy thought this place was punishment, but it’s perfect,’ he said, looking around the room. ‘Because it’s safe in here.’

‘Safe from what?’

‘I don’t trust a single one of them. You’re the only person I can talk to because you’re the only one who was willing to stand up in that courtroom and condemn me. That means I know you’ll help me do what’s right. I know it’s hot and airless, but I really think you might want to consider closing the door. Because I already told you I killed Alan on purpose, but now it’s time I told you why.’

CHAPTER 19

‘I’ve had three years to try to figure out how to tell you this,’ Michael said, after I’d closed the door. He clearly hadn’t, despite the time, rehearsed an opening line. ‘Prison is good for perspective, it feels like everything stays still while the world spins around you. Lets you look at things. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t develop a certain spiritual understanding.’

I must have raised my eyebrows, because he went on the defensive.

‘I don’t want to get too deep into the meaning-of-life crap, but when you’ve killed someone – sorry, when you’ve made the decision to kill someone – you’ve got to weigh it up. You know?’

‘I don’t,’ I said, because I didn’t. Even though, writing this now, I have a somewhat better idea.

‘I don’t know how to explain how it felt when I hurt Alan. I was in this kind of haze where everything I did was mechanical. Like I wasn’t really in control . . .’ He put a hand out apologetically. ‘I know how it sounds, but I’m not making excuses. I’m trying to tell you that I don’t know what I would have done next. The damage I might have caused. Who else I might have hurt. I’ve spent three years in prison with killers, Ern. And I thought I was killing for . . . well, something. Something bigger than me. And then I’m in there with people who are congratulating each other over what they’ve done and, shit, some of the stuff they’ve killed over is so damn small.’ He shook his head; he was getting lost, making himself upset. He blinked a few times, and breathed, to get himself back on track. ‘I’m sorry. I’m trying to talk about what a life is worth. You know? Take Sofia’s lawsuit. That family is suing the hospital for millions . . . I can’t remember the figure Erin mentioned. Point is, they’ve sat around a table with a bunch of lawyers and shuffled papers until they landed on a figure. They’ve decided “Our son is worth this much”.’