I said, “I’m tired, Scorch. Over the past week I’ve dealt with dead exes, dead brothers and a hefty dose of my parents, and I’m a very wrecked little puppy. Maybe that’s what’s doing it. I’m not positive about anything any more. Nothing at all.”

I could tell by the puffy look on Scorcher’s face that he was about to enlighten me, which was bound to put him in a better mood. “Sooner or later, Frank,” he told me, “we all end up getting a good kick in the certainties. That’s what life is. The trick is to turn that kick into a stepping-stone towards the next level of certainty. Do you get me?”

This time I swallowed my helping of tossed metaphor salad like a good boy. “Yeah, I do. And I bloody hate admitting this, to you of all people, but I need a hand up to that next level. I really do, mate. Put me out of my misery: what’s Imelda saying?”

“You’re not going to give her grief about it?”

“As far as I’m concerned, my life will be complete if I never see Imelda Tierney again.”

“I’m going to need your word on this, Frank. No dodging.”

“I give you my word I will not go near Imelda. Not about Kevin, not about Rosie, not about anything ever.”

“No matter what.”

“No matter what.”

“Believe me, I don’t want to complicate your life. And I won’t have to, as long as you don’t complicate mine. Don’t force my hand here.”

“I won’t.”

Scorcher smoothed his hair into place and snapped the sun visor shut. “In a way,” he said, “you were right to go after Imelda. Your technique may suck, my friend, but your instincts are spot-on.”

“She knew something.”

“She knew plenty. I’ve got a bit of a surprise for you, old son. I know you thought you and Rose Daly were keeping your relationship a big secret, but in my experience, when a woman says she won’t tell a soul, what she means is she’ll only tell her two very best friends. Imelda Tierney knew all along. The relationship, the plans to elope, everything.”

“God,” I said. I shook my head, did a shamefaced half laugh, let Scorcher inflate with satisfaction. “Right. She . . . wow. Now that I didn’t see coming.”

“You were only a kid. You didn’t know the rules of the game.”

“Still. Hard to believe I was ever that naïve.”

“Here’s something else you may have missed: Imelda says Kevin had a massive thing for Rose, way back when. You’ve got to admit, that fits with what you’ve told me: she was the neighborhood babe, all the boys fancied her.”

“Well, sure. Yeah. But Kevin? He was only fifteen.”