You were far more comfortable in your own skin, too. Watching you speak to waiters and waitresses with warmth and without worry made me feel safe for some reason. And witnessing the way you laughed when you dropped something or screwed up filled me with wonder. Where was the immediate self-loathing that plagued me? And why weren’t you angry when I messed up, too?

It occurred to me, for what was honestly the first time in my life, that I didn’t actually need to be hard on myself. That there was a choice in this. And every time I broke a glass or lost something, as you rubbed my arm and helped me sort it out, I let a little bit of the dislike I’d long felt towards myself drift away.

In fact, Niall, if only it hadn’t been for Dina, you might have been nothing but good for me.

5

‘We’d really appreciate any information you can give us on Alex’s movements last night,’ Hanson said to Issa, quietly, once his racking sobs had subsided into occasional juddering breaths. Jonah was happy to let her be the comforting presence in this conversation. He’d never been sure he was that good at it. ‘I know it’s hard when you’re trying to process this, but the more quickly we start looking for Alex’s killer, the more likely we are to bring them to justice.’

Issa nodded, drew in another breath, and then nodded again. ‘Yes. Yes, I want to – help.’ He turned his eyes up towards the ceiling, gathering himself together. ‘Alex was out with one of his – our friends.’ He looked at Hanson. ‘I was away. I didn’t get back until one, and he was still out. I wasn’t there to protect him.’

Jonah gave him a nod. The idea of the diminutive Issa protecting the powerful Alex looked a little ridiculous on the face of it, but there were other forms of protection than the physical. There was, for example, the kind that involved persuading someone to stop drinking when they’d had enough. Or that talked them out of aggressive behaviour.

‘Do you know where they went?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘A gig in the Porterhouse, and then they ended up staying out.’ He shook his head. ‘The last I heard from him – they were in Blue Underground, and he was quite drunk.’

The tears gained the upper hand for a few moments, and then Jonah asked him, ‘Could we have the friend’s name?’

He nodded, silently at first, before managing to say, ‘Step. Step Conti. He’s a Stefano, but he’s only ever called Step.’

‘You know this friend well?’