The policewoman had taken all those notes, and nodded and said mmm-hmm. And she hadn’t believed a single word. Now there was real danger.

Matty thought through boxing moves. Jab. Right cross. Left uppercut. Right cross.

‘They made me sit in there for almost an hour,’ Mamma said, finally. ‘An hour. Do you know how humiliating that is?’

The iron was in the hallway cupboard. The food mixer was in the cupboard by the sink. Pivot. Left uppercut.

‘Why would you do that?’ Her voice was beginning to rise. ‘Why would you do that to your own mother?’ You could practically hear her guts, twisting inside her. Jab to the head, jab to the body. ‘You hate me so much?’ It was coming.

‘I’ll hit you if you hit me,’ Matty said.

‘What?’ The word jerked out, astonished.

‘If you hit me, I’ll hit you back. Dad took me boxing. It was a secret.’

She looked blank for a moment, before letting out an almost-laugh, the sort that hated itself. ‘Another secret,’ she said. ‘You two, always so full of them.’

‘No, we weren’t.’ Only that one. And the late-night movies. And the time that Dad had let Matty try some of his beer and laughed at the foamy moustache. And all the swearing at Barnet.

‘No?’ She shook her head, not believing. ‘And now you’re stuck with me.’

Matty’s head hurt, thick and clogged up. Stay alert. Stay ready. Defend, counter.

‘You hold him up like a saint. Like Jesus on the cross.’ She folded her arms and leant forward so that her chest was squashed against the table. ‘He is gone. Do you hear me? Gone. He is not coming back.’

‘You killed him.’ Matty’s voice had gone as stiff as Mamma’s.

‘I did not kill him.’ She looked exasperated, tired. ‘He deserves to be dead. After what he has done to me. To you.’

‘You hit him.’

Her mouth opened. Shut again. ‘We would fight. That is what some couples do.’

‘He didn’t hit you, though.’

She didn’t say anything.

He didn’t. Of course he didn’t. Maybe that’s why they went to boxing. So that at least Matty could fight back. ‘I want him to be here.’ The words were slower. Not grown-up. Nose beginning to run.

‘We will not see him again. Do you hear me?’

‘He’s dead,’ Matty said, looking at Mamma. It was almost a question, but not quite.

Mamma stared back, and then over Matty’s head for a long time, totally still, and finally released a breath as deep as the sea. She leant over and pulled up her handbag, bringing out her lighter. ‘Yes.’

***

‘It is time to get up.’ Mamma was there, sitting on the side of the bed, the mattress sloping. ‘We need to get you a calculator and a pencil case.’