‘You’re thinking about it again,’ says Roisin, concern in her voice. ‘Beating yourself up. Whipping yourself.’

McAvoy says nothing. She unnerves him with the way she seems to read his thoughts; to take the temperature of his moods just by tasting the air.

‘It’s done with, Aector. Put to bed.’

‘Perhaps for you,’ he says, even as he wishes he could keep his mouth shut. ‘I’m a police officer. There are detectives still looking into what happened. The half-brothers are listed as missing people. Red knew I was going looking for them. There’s a DC who looks at me strangely every time I go to the canteen. I can’t stand the thought of her murder being written off as unsolved – not when we know that the man who did it is in the ground somewhere.’

She turns. Looks up and into him, her eyes blurring. She places her damp, dirty palm on his cheek.

‘Nobody else could understand, Aector. It was a feud. It wouldn’t mean much to country folk but to Pavee, it’s everything. And it got so far out of hand that somebody died. Somebody who didn’t deserve to. But that person is dead, Aector. And the people who tried to hurt me are dead too. There’s nobody for the Guards to arrest. It’s all done.’

‘And I just live with that, do I?’

She shrugs, not unkindly. ‘Life’s full of pain, my love. Frustrations. Imperfections. Terrible things happened, but somewhere in the world, terrible things are happening every moment. People try and make it neat. Arrests, jail terms, all that bollocks. Nobody asks the Guards to take this stuff on. We live outside, Aector. We’re Pavee …’

‘I’m not,’ says Aector, his voice catching. ‘I’m joining CID, Roisin. There’s a detective superintendent, Doug Roper, I know I can learn a lot from him. I don’t know how to have a conversation without blushing so how the hell do I stop myself blurting out that I can tidy up one of his outstanding cases for him?’

Roisin laughs. ‘You can’t, Aector. You don’t know where anybody is. There’s no forensics. And do you really want anybody looking too deeply? Going and making that statement, that was terrifying, but I did it for you. And if I know coppers, it won’t stay unsolved for long. They’ll pin it on somebody.’

He shoots her a reproving look. ‘Roisin, that’s not how things are done.’

She squeezes his arm. Leans back against him. Stares at the water. When she shivers, he holds her tight.

‘I just want to be a good man,’ he whispers, his voice lost to the breeze. ‘How do I know I’m doing things right …’

She takes his hand and places it on her chest. He feels her heart, beating against his palm; a bird in a cage. In moments, they are breathing in tandem: his own heart keeping pace with hers. She laces her fingers through his. Moves his hand down her damp body. Presses it to her stomach.