The landline was mewling again in the kitchen, obliging Pell Munnelly, woke now for good, to climb from the cosy rut of her bed and pad downstairs in bare feet. She skimmed her fingertips along the dulled ­grey-­and-­lilac grain of the walls, swatted each light switch she passed to feel less alone.

On the phone was the secretary from her little brother Gerry’s school. The secretary was named Lorna Dawes, a pretty blonde sap Pell sometimes saw around town. Another fight, Sap said: Gerry and two lads in the basement locker rooms before first class, an argument escalating to blows. Now Gerry was being detained in Sap’s office until such time as someone could come pick him up.

The receiver was hot against Pell’s ear. There was snow in the back garden, a radiant pelt of the stuff with dark, ­snub-­bodied birds dabbing across it. She lifted a foot from the lino, pressed her toes into the flannelled warmth of her standing calf.

‘So who will I say is coming in?’ Sap asked.

‘Well, guess that’d be me,’ Pell said.

Upstairs, she raked sleep knots and static electricity from her hair. She threw on three layers and an old combat jacket of Nick’s, salvaged a knitted hat malodorous with scalp sweat from the boiler room, and slammed the front door. The snow in the concrete courtyard was still faintly cut with the ­tread-­mark arcs of Nick’s departed Vectra. Nick lived here in as small a way as he could. He was gone by first light and did not come back until near midnight. But he was the eldest, ­twenty-­five and the ­state-­sanctioned boss ever since the folks died off of cancer over consecutive summers, the mammy three years back, the daddy the year before last. Pell rang Nick on her mobile, counted to eight while the line rang out as she knew it would, sent a text. Then a second, more considered text: said not to worry, she’d bail the lump out herself.

Transport was a problem. Pell’s breath smoked in the air. A horse, a runty juvenile skewbald, gawped at her from the field next to the house and flicked its filthy tail.

‘You are no candidate,’ Pell said.