‘Of course, darling. Come through and choose any you like. I heard what happened to poor Cora O’Brien. Awful situation. It was on the news all day yesterday and I had no idea it was her. Imagine, it could have been any of us. I was at the DART station on Tuesday. It could have been me.’

This is very Susie. I remember once there was a news story about a bomb in northern Spain and for months after, she kept referring to the time she’d been in Madrid six years prior – hundreds of miles from the bomb site. But to listen to her, you’d think Susie had been seconds from death.

‘It’s awful,’ I say. ‘Poor Cora. She had quite a tragic life, didn’t she?’ I kneel beside the box of photos and lift the lid.

‘A tragic end for sure, but her life wasn’t particularly awful, was it?’

‘I mean the rumours about her dad after Lily went missing. And his death …’

I rummage through the photos as Susie clicks her tongue.

‘Poor Victor. Those dreadful stories suggesting he did something to Lily. Honestly, I know it’s hard to understand when you weren’t there, but Ines and Victor were our friends. Not the most charismatic pair, to be frank, but our friends nonetheless. And he was a businessman, they had plenty of money, good backgrounds. There’s no way he had anything to do with it.’

Again, this is very Susie. If you’re from the right place, you couldn’t possibly be guilty of any wrongdoing.

‘If you ask me,’ she goes on, ‘the police never looked into Eddie Hogan properly. When he heard his daughter was supposedly pregnant with Robbie’s baby, he hit the roof. Hit Robbie, to be more specific. That’s where you should be looking.’

‘And was she pregnant with Robbie’s baby?’

She purses her lips. ‘Robbie said it wasn’t true, and that should be good enough for everyone. I know who I believe. Certainly not that Eddie Hogan.’

‘Do you know where I’d find him or anything about him?’

‘Gosh no. We weren’t friendly with the Hogans. They didn’t quite fit in. Did I mention he used to be a boxer?’

Oh, Susie.

The photo of Cora, Victor and Cynthia is at the bottom of the pile and I put it in my bag now. That’s all I came for really, but as an afterthought, I decide to take the one of Mark, Fran and Zara too – the one with Gavin in the background. And one of Susie with Mary, Robbie and newborn Lily.

I slip them into my bag and say goodbye, promising to bring the kids over soon.

When I pull into the driveway, Fran is in her front garden again, watering shrubs.

‘It’s a watering can!’ she calls across. I must look confused because she elaborates. ‘The hosepipe ban. I’m sticking to the rules.’

‘Oh, of course. I forgot. My brain’s addled.’

‘The news about Cora?’

I nod.

‘Me too. I didn’t know her really, but still.’