Pete dropped everything on the floor. He put a hand to his face, pressing the heel of his palm into the bridge of his nose. Another calming technique; I’d seen it before.

Cilla pulled out her handkerchief, dabbed her mouth, then folded it up and kept folding until it could not be folded any smaller.

‘Are you all right?’ Pete said, his eyes still closed.

Cilla nodded. ‘I’m fine.’

Pete’s eyes opened. He lowered his hand. ‘I wasn’t asking you,’ he said. He licked his lips.

Cilla’s flush intensified.

‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Pete? I’m fine.’

But now Pete had eyes only for Cilla.

‘How did they get in here, anyway?’

Cilla shrank away from him, wilted away.

‘Well?’ Pete said. ‘I asked you a question. This is someone’s fault. Is it yours?’

Cilla mumbled something.

‘What?’ Pete put his hand to his ear and leaned forward. ‘You’ll have to speak up. I can’t. Fucking. Hear. You.’

Cilla looked at me. It was a look I knew, a look that every gym teacher, every teacher, has seen a thousand times: a plea for mercy.

‘Pete, come on, let’s get out of here,’ I said. I kept my voice flat, neutral. I didn’t want either of them to think I’d taken the other’s side.

‘I’m sorry,’ Cilla said on a puff of breath, giving that weird smile; only now it looked unhinged, panicked, the smile of a rabid dog. ‘I’m sorry —’

‘ “Sorry, I’m sorry, so sorry,” ’ Pete said. He was imitating not only her voice, but her hunch, her gestures. ‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’

Cilla looked down and crossed her arms, tight, like she was trying to tie herself into a knot.

Pete tucked his hands beneath his arms, assumed the wide stance he always favoured. He stared down at the top of Cilla’s bent head. I turned away. If she was crying, I didn’t want to know.

For a long moment nothing happened. Finally, Cilla turned and hurried from the room.

Pete looked at me and inclined his head in the direction she had taken.

‘Pathetic,’ he said.

Most of the drive home passed in silence. Pete applied his laser focus to the road, making precise turns, weaving in and out of the traffic to save time, even though there wasn’t anywhere we needed to be.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked finally.

‘Am I okay?’

‘Not shaken up I mean.’

We rolled to a halt at a red light and he looked at me, serious.

‘I can understand if you’re upset.’

‘I’m not upset,’ I said. I remembered the couple’s cowering bodies, their pale, sallow backs as they crawled on the floor.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘You can tell me.’

‘I’ve seen dicks before, Pete.’

He flattened his mouth in distaste. ‘That’s not what I meant.’