I realise I’ve forgotten about the fire, I realise that for the last five minutes I’ve felt normal, like someone didn’t almost kill me and my family last night. I knew it was a good idea coming in today.

‘In our last session we were talking about your father.’

‘My dear ole pappy. Yes.’ He runs his fingers back through his straight brown hair.

‘What was it like growing up with him?’

He thinks for a moment. ‘Dad was a good man,’ he begins, lacing his fingers together and rubbing his hands back and forth. ‘I know that sounds strange – about a murderer, but I mean that’s what people called him before he did it, a good man. He was a little eccentric, but he did right by everyone. He had all the things that made you a “good man” in Ireland in the nineties.’ He makes air quotes with his index and forefingers. ‘He grew up without a dad. That’s where I think his own problems stemmed from. He grew up with a mum who didn’t love him. He was working class but smart. Street smart, you’d say.’

‘Did your mum tell you this?’

‘Yeah, and I remember. I always felt closer to him than Mum for some reason.’

I was the same, I think.

‘So he was working in the mines most of his life. Raising us kids. He liked to have a drink, and he would come home late. One night when he is still at the pub, my mam suddenly comes into our room. She said we’re leaving. She said that Dad has a new woman and he can’t have us kids, so she drives us up north. I still remember it, clearly.’

I’m engrossed, his story has taken me away from my own problems. Childhood trauma shapes so much of our adult biases; it forms the people we become. Cormac is reckless but brilliant. He’s resentful of wealth and the powers that be. I’m seeing a pattern emerging. I can see why Adam Limbargo took a shine to him. Adam himself grew up working class. His mum, an English teacher, gave him a good brain, and his dad, a racehorse trainer, gifted him a mild gambling addiction, a problem that grew the older he got. That was the last thing Adam and I caught up about: he wanted help for it.

‘So she takes you away not to protect you, but to keep you from your father?’

‘That’s right. That’s the way I see it. She didn’t force his hand or anything, but she poked the bear.’

‘Poked the bear?’