Joyce closed her eyes briefly as if distressed on his behalf. ‘He was furious with you because you kept fobbing him off with the dinner invitations.’ She gave Hirsch a crooked grin. ‘Those evenings you did come must have been fun.’

Hirsch shrugged and smiled. ‘Good tucker, though.’

She nodded, as if appreciating his kindness. ‘He was hoping to be Santa again, even though it meant he couldn’t enter the Best Christmas Lights competition. Then the council chose you to be Santa, so he went all-out with the Christmas lights. Expected to win, of course.’

‘A compensatory thank-you from the town?’

‘Very good. You’re getting the hang of how he thinks.’

‘His light display was pretty good. Nan’s was better.’

‘Much better. But let’s not ignore the elephant in the room: she won when she shouldn’t have.’ She paused. ‘He hit me just now.’

‘That’s what brought you here?’

‘You have to understand. My mind…for years it was a tiny, inward-looking thing,’ Joyce said. ‘I could only see what was right in front of me: was the mantelpiece dusty? Had I set the table properly? Had I ironed his handkerchiefs perfectly? I couldn’t see the world, Paul. I couldn’t see the ripple effects of everything he did and said and thought.’ She cocked her head. ‘Like that film he put on the internet. He was having a go at you, he wanted to hurt you—and look what happened. It brought bad people here, evil people.’

Hirsch was uneasy now. He kept his voice mild, unhurried: ‘Where is Martin, Joyce?’

He eyed her clothing, her arms and her hands. She was as neat as a pin. If she’d stabbed or clubbed the little man, there was no evidence of it.

‘Oh, he’s messing about on his iPad. There’s always some chat room where he can post a message, always some site that will feed his misery and resentment.’

‘You didn’t have to explain where you were going?’

‘I told him I was taking some old dresses to the charity bin outside the church.’

She placed the Myer bag on the desk. She nudged it. Nudged it again with more confidence, as if taking the biggest of all her big steps. ‘I expect,’ she said, ‘they can test for equine DNA?’ Another nudge. ‘With any luck, where he’s going someone else will do his laundry for him.’