‘Can you imagine that, Josh? Loving someone so much that you want to hurt other people for them? He says that he’d kill people if they threatened me. Could you kill someone?’

She stops walking. I almost fall over.

‘Oh my god – I’m so sorry. I didn’t…’

‘What? Oh. Don’t worry. It’s fine.’

‘No, but, with your … dad. And everything. I’m … I shouldn’t…’ She trails off.

We start walking again, her arm through mine, along the road that borders the park. The noises from children playing are drifting on the evening air. In a few minutes, it will be starting to get dark. Dana keeps looking across at me, as if I’ve got something on my face – besides the bruise, of course.

‘Does it hurt?’

‘No, it’s fine now.’

‘He really caught you proper, didn’t he?’

‘Can we talk about something else, please?’

We walk in silence for a few minutes. She’s still looking across at me every ten paces or so.

‘If all you’re going to do is admire your boyfriend’s handywork, I think I’d rather—’

‘It’s not that.’

‘What then?’

‘I’m trying to work you out. It’s what I do. I’m good at working people out.’

‘Really?’

I can’t help but think about her poor choice in boyfriends.

‘I’m wondering if you really mean it or not?’

‘Mean what?’

‘That everything’s OK?’

I know I’m starting to blush. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t take this the wrong way, right?’ She places her other hand on my chest as she says this, ‘but your dad died, what, two years ago now?’

I breathe in hard against my tightening ribs.

‘And you seem, around school, to act like it’s all OK. All the teachers think you’re brilliant, apparently, but you don’t talk to anyone. Ever. I get that. I understand it as a coping strategy, I really do, but…’

‘But what?’ If I don’t say something at this point I’ll pass out. Speak. Breathe.