After she left he had the word Forever tattooed on the left side of his ribcage. In recent years, the boys have often told him that he needs to move on. He would reply, ‘But who is there? But who is there?’ and they would leave him be. Who was there? Not the GP Catriona, he’s decided, sick with guilt. She doesn’t even come close.

After Christine disappeared he flew into rages, real rages, and saw how, in all their years together, he had only pretended to be angry. Shaking, he would have to pull over into a lay-by. Or sit down on one of the chairs by the supermarket checkout while the world turned white. One time, when Lauren was at school, he took an axe to a fence post. Another time he took his axe into the woods at dusk and swung it hard against a tree and birds exploded into flight from the branches above. He drove the pickup out to the woods and built a bonfire as big as he could make it. He burnt junk and tyres. He burnt a guy. He played metal. He felt as though he was turning into a werewolf.

A doctor came to visit and recommended counselling, but he refused. By that time his father was beginning to show signs of illness. Niall would drive forty minutes to visit him and watch daytime TV in silence. He remembers talking to his father once about Christine’s disappearance. They preferred not to mention these things.

These days, he doesn’t want any more reminders. His work is erasure. He has his own medicine. He is OK. But occasionally still he finds himself on his knees.

At one o’clock Lauren’s class form a queue by the door to say grace. Lauren has arrived just in time, red-faced and tired. Their teacher starts the prayer in a hushed tone while the children stay silent until the final line.

‘Some hae meat and canna eat,

And some wad eat that want it,

But we hae meat and we can eat,

Sae let the Lord be Thankit!’

When Lauren opens her eyes, she notices the tip of Mrs Gray’s nose is pink and her eye make-up a little smudged. The word about Ann-Marie has spread fast.

The class walks in a crocodile across the car park to the shiny new high-school canteen. She and Billy usually queue up at the hot counter, but she doesn’t see him today. She sits next to Jenny and her friends who let her eat with them but don’t pay her much attention. Jenny is talking about a boy band on the talent show the night before.

Lauren sighs and picks at her pizza slice. Her eyes feel red raw. The adrenaline has not quite gone. She feels too alert.

‘Did you not like them, Lauren? It was honestly so good. But the judges coulda been nicer, I thought. Especially Simon.’