‘Yes, she was terrified. When she woke up, her desk was up against her door. And her room was a mess, or that’s what they’re saying.’

‘A mess how?’

‘Angela didn’t go into too much detail.’

‘Ann-Marie. Sleepwalking. Or drunk. She’s how old now?’ He leans back again.

‘Niall. I don’t think she’s like that. But then, what do I know?’

Niall gulps half his tea down.

She pauses. ‘Teenagers do like to get drunk.’

‘Maybe that’s it.’

‘I’ve seen them, down at that bus stop in town. And the other strange thing that happened was that apparently Sandy’s house was set on fire. Did you hear about this?’

‘Kirsty. You’re having me—’ He stops himself as he remembers the stones in Lauren’s room. Hesitantly, he pulls a chair next to her, over snaking wires.

‘No, I’m not. That’s what I’m saying: it sounds as though they’ve had a time of it. Someone was saying they saw smoke coming from his house, or his garden. A lot.’

‘Not his bonfire,’ he says flatly.

‘It started off as a bonfire, I think, yes, but then something happened, and the fire caught the downstairs. One of the windows is black, apparently. Or maybe it was his door.’ Kirsty stares down into her mug and traces her finger over a chip in the ceramic, chewing the dry skin on her bottom lip. ‘I don’t know if that’s related to the break-in or whatever it is at Angela’s. But we need to be a bit more careful round here. The Walkers are thinking of getting a new security system.’

‘Is that right?’ He hesitates. ‘The fire, at Sandy’s, that just sounds like he isn’t keeping an eye on things. Bonfires can be dangerous. I had one the other month, burning scrap, and, you know, you’ve got to be careful. The circle around Angela’s house, that could have been teenagers, playing pranks again. Or a storm, as you say. The winds.’

‘What?’ She looks up at him.

‘Have you seen any teenagers up here?’ he says.

‘No, well, there’s Diane. I mean, who knows about her friends. But she wouldn’t do that to Ann-Marie now, would she? They’ve been such friends since they were wee.’

‘Thick as thieves.’

‘But then the house is so big, who knows who she – Ann-Marie – was inviting over, eh?’

They sit with their own thoughts for a while, in the golden gloom.

‘She’s always been a nice girl,’ Kirsty says. He notices how she looks at him sometimes. A shy sideways look, like a sparrow.

‘True. I suppose I’m saying there could be a simple explanation.’ Niall tries to recall a shred of anything that she says happened which he could have noticed, but his memory has emptied out like a bucket.