‘OK.’ Rave pulled out the sleeping bag and shook it. He took off his jacket, then his top and jeans. Even though it was dark, Jeremy turned and faced the other way while his friend undressed. Rave slipped into the sleeping bag. They lay in silence for a little while.

‘You OK?’ Jeremy said eventually.

‘Good.’

‘Hungry?’

‘No. I ate that shepherd’s pie you left me. You’re getting better, Beany. It was almost edible.’

Jeremy laughed. ‘Cheers.’

‘I know you spoke to me da,’ Rave said, after a minute or two. Jeremy’s heart threatened to stop. ‘It’s OK, I know why you did it, but don’t go back there again. All right?’

‘I won’t.’

‘I’m trustin’ you, Beany.’

‘I promise.’

‘And you’ll never tell anyone what you saw?’

Crap. I told Deirdre, but his da didn’t know Deirdre was there. ‘I won’t say a word.’ From here on in. It’s not a lie.

Now Jeremy wished they were lying in his warm, dry bedroom. It had taken them for ever to get up the road, Rave zigzagging this way and that, and when he hit the second parked car, waving to Jugs Kinsella, Jeremy had had enough. ‘Keep yer eye on the road, will ya?’ He jumped off the bike.

‘Shite, sorry, lost me bearings.’

‘I’m going home.’ He turned to walk away.

‘Ah, come on, man. Sorry. I’ll get me act together.’

‘Nah, I need to go, man. I can’t leave me grammy and Valerie on their own. It’s not cool.’

Rave got off the bike and followed him. ‘We’ll walk a bit. I’m soberin’ up – please.’

Jeremy stopped in his tracks. Rave was pleading with him. He never pleaded with anyone. He hated letting his best friend down.

‘I need you,’ Rave said.

Shite anyways. ‘OK, but we’re not walking. I’ll do the cycling.’

‘My bike is your bike.’ Rave slapped him on the back. Jeremy put his hand on the saddle. Rave let it go.

‘This is stupid,’ Jeremy said.

‘It’s not, I swear.’

‘It’s freezing.’

‘It’s life.’

‘You’re pissed.’

‘Please, Beany. Please come with me.’

Jeremy looked across the road. He saw Jugs Kinsella’s ma’s car pull out of Bridget Burke’s pub car park. Lucky bastard. Off to a warm bed. Jeremy’s feet were frozen. He fixed his schoolbag on his back. ‘All right,’ he said.

‘Cool.’

Jeremy stepped on to the bike. Rave sat on the saddle. ‘Where are we goin’?’

‘Right up Bohernabreena Road,’ Rave said.

Jeremy took off, Rave waving his arms in the air and singing, ‘Here we go, here we go, here we go …’ He cycled fast to get where he was going and to warm himself, Rave still singing into his back. He cycled until Rave shouted, ‘Here!’ when they reached the gates to the reservoir.