‘Come on back out into the fresh air.’ At one end of a wrap-around porch were a dog’s basket and two old Adirondack wooden chairs with wide armrests. Kyle indicated the chairs and tossed Tom a can as they sat down. He followed Tom’s gaze beyond the cars to the play area. ‘Gabrielle and the kids been gone a few years now. Some of the boys’ situations were similar to mine, so I invited them to move in. And we get along just fine.’

He popped his can and drank deeply. There was a big empty silence but as soon as Tom drew breath to ask a question Kyle continued. ‘I got this place because it was safe and out of the way, thinking it was my job in life to protect them. I didn’t know back then that what they needed protectin’ from was me. Ain’t that ironic.’

It was not a question.

‘Do you see them at all?’

‘I don’t get to go near. I hear stuff about how they’re doing and that’s about it. Gabrielle doesn’t want me around them and the sheriff knows that too.’

Tom decided not to ask why.

‘Eleven tours, six in Iraq, five in Afghanistan, and I didn’t have a scratch, not one. I thought I was fuckin’ immortal. Guys dug operations with me because they figured I’d bring them good luck. But I knew my number was gonna be up sooner or later. So did Gabrielle. She persuaded me to quit. She said, “You’ve served your country. Now come home and look after your family.”’

He gazed dispassionately at Tom. ‘Guess you’ve got the same problem coming at you. Only you’re lucky you don’t have a family to fuck up. Some shit-for-brains shrink asked me how I fill the void. I told him them being gone wasn’t the void.’

His eyes looked tired from staring into the sun too long.

‘The fuckin’ void I got to fill is not having a war.’

He took a long pull on his can.

Tom shifted in his seat. He’d known too many evenings like this descend into booze-fuelled self-loathing and recriminations. He needed to lift the conversation away from domestic matters; he wanted Kyle’s perspective on Oryxis before he got too drunk to be useful. ‘Tell me about Lederer and Stutz.’

‘You seen The Truman Show, right? Lederer’s Truman.’

‘And Beth’s in the Laura Linney part?’

He laughed uproariously. ‘Ain’t she somethin’? What she puts up with from that kid, watching his damned videos of her with his hand in his shorts . . .’ He leaned across and lowered his voice.

‘Know what? She’s actually Stutz’s girl. Took me a while to figure that one out.’

‘Doesn’t he mind?’