Jeremy rarely shouted: he didn’t have Valerie’s temper. Tears filled her eyes and he felt bad. You just don’t know what you’re talking about, Valerie, that’s all. ‘Goodnight, Valerie,’ he said softly, then left the room, closing the door, before his sister could say another word.

He grabbed his old duffel coat and followed Rave out of his bedroom window.

Rave had a slick black Raleigh bike, whereas Jeremy’s was an ancient yellow Triumph Twenty that once belonged to Bridie. He had been slagged off about it so often by their mates that he refused to ride it any more. Instead he went everywhere on the back of Rave’s bike, his arms folded across his chest. Even if the ride got rocky, and it often did, he’d never grab Rave’s saddle or his waist to steady himself. That was what girls did. Jeremy would rather he and Rave just fell off than be seen to grab on to his best mate.

Jonno and Mitch caught up to them just outside the park, cycling like the clappers. Jonno’s ma insisted he wear a helmet, which made him look like a fucking queer – that was what Mitch and Dave said every time he wore it. The only reason he continued to wear it was because she threatened that if she or anyone else saw him on the bike without it he’d never cycle again. Jonno’s ma worked for the council and she was like a spy. It made him the butt of every joke but he weathered it as well as he could. Jeremy really admired him for that.

‘All right, lads,’ Jonno said to Jeremy and Rave.

‘Still driving Miss Daisy?’ Mitch said, referring to Rave giving Jeremy a backer.

‘The old ones are the best, eh?’ Rave said, and took off at speed. Even with Jeremy on the back he was faster than the others. They caught up when he hit the park and slowed down, and when Jeremy jumped off, the lads followed suit. Dave sauntered into view, wearing a black waxed coat to his ankles, clearly too big for him. It was rolled up at the sleeves. As he emerged from the mist he looked like a miniature Van Helsing. He parked his bike by the tree and blew hot air into his cold hands. ‘Just in time, I see.’ He pushed in between Jonno and Mitch. Grabbing the bottle from Jonno, who had just received it from Jeremy, he opened it and took a slug. ‘What a poxy day. Happy New Year, me hole.’

‘What are you wearing?’ Rave said.

‘Me grandad’s coat.’ He pushed the sleeves up his arms. ‘Cool, isn’t it?’

‘If looking like a prick is cool,’ Mitch grunted.

‘I like it,’ Rave said.

‘Yeah, well, me nanna was going to bury him in it. I put a bleedin’ stop to that.’