‘Maybe.’ There was a sense of floating, of unreality.

‘I’ll see what I can do. I’m off for a couple of days now, but – after that.’ He gave a gentle, encouraging nod.

‘Thanks.’ Matty let out a long, shuddering breath.

They went back to watching TV. John reunited with his wife, hugs for the police officer. The bad men all killed.

‘I’m sorry,’ Cormac said as the credits rolled. ‘You’ve had a shite time. And – losing your mother, and all.’ He crossed his arms. ‘Sorry you were on your own today.’

‘It’s cool. I’m used to it.’ A glance. ‘I’m glad you came over.’

This time, they didn’t stop gazing at each other.

‘Are your eyes blue or green?’ he said, his voice small, faraway. ‘I can’t tell.’

Either. Neither. ‘Bit of both.’

He blinked, lids heavy. ‘I’m quite drunk.’ Spoken like a child whispering a secret.

‘Yeah, me too.’

Cormac made the slightest movement closer, and Matty knew what was coming, watched him hesitate, and put a hand on his cheek. The pull of each towards the other. A kiss. His lips stayed close and they kissed once more before he said, ‘Ah God, sorry,’ and sat forward, leaning on his elbows. He glanced back round. ‘I’m not sorry.’

Something gave way. Matty took hold of his shirt and tugged him back. Cormac, with a surprised hum, had to put a hand out on the back of the sofa to stop from falling.

He tasted of chocolate and alcoholic orange. It wasn’t like kissing Brigid. It felt like it meant something.

They stopped, looked at each other.

‘This is bad, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Very bad.’

I know what bad is, Matty thought. This isn’t it. This isn’t close to it. ‘Yeah.’

‘So … you’re really not a lesbian?’

Matty made the smallest sigh, head resting back.

‘No. No, you’re not. Sorry.’ He was looking sheepishly at Matty’s legs again. ‘It’s just because you – you’re – there aren’t really people like you up here.’ He was babbling. ‘I’ve always been attracted to girly … girls, you know? My last girlfriend – she was a nurse – she had her nails done every fortnight and when she got married they all wore sashes and terrorised Sligo with huge inflatable cocks. It was carnage.’ A winning smile.

Matty couldn’t help smiling back, despite all the girl mentions. He couldn’t help it. A glance down at the obvious erection in his trousers. The need to touch him, to blot out fear. ‘Nothing wrong with huge inflatable cocks.’

‘Touché,’ he said. His grin subsided. ‘Would you like to go to bed?’

‘Well, this is a first,’ he said, standing in the centre of his boyhood room. A sweet, abashed look. ‘Late starter and all that.’

Matty sat down on the side of the bed. Hands on knees.