‘What’s that, then?’ Evan says.

‘Let’s see: you’ve blackmailed us. That’s one crime. You have helped us to cover up … what we did. So you’re an accessory after the fact,’ Joe says, thankful for Lydia’s knowledge of criminal law. ‘And you are totally reliant on us for your income and your partnership capital, which is written on a meaningless piece of paper.’

‘Meaningless,’ Evan swallows. ‘I have to say, I’m surprised you’re saying this.’ He smiles at Joe, a strange smile, wolfish under the security lights, which cast long shadows under his eyes. He looks like that painting, The Scream. Joe stares, trying to appear unfazed, not frightened, but he wants to take as many steps backwards as he can, to run into the house, to phone Lydia and leave, forever. Instead, he bundles Evan out of the door. ‘We had a deal,’ Evan adds.

‘We had a deal on the black market,’ Joe says. ‘What’re you going to do – sue us for the money?’ He folds his forearms across his body. Feeling big. Feeling fat. Feeling good. The anger is productive. It feels more like vitality than fury. He begins to walk Evan down his front path, with no idea of where they will go.

‘I could call the police right now and tell them that you committed murder,’ Evan says calmly, his voice low. It’s cold for August, and his breath hangs in the air like balloons of smoke. He brings out a phone and dials slowly, looking at Joe after each digit. ‘101 to report a crime, is it? One,’ he says, keying it in. ‘Zero. Shall I call? Test you for your DNA, won’t they? Arrest your whole fucking family.’

‘Right,’ Joe says. He doesn’t let himself react.

‘Tell them to test the DNA on the body, and then test yours.’

Joe is trying to keep his head. Trying not to overflow. Trying to think straight too. Put one foot in front of the other. ‘And if you did that, and we all went to prison, what would you get? How much money?’ he says.

Evan stops still, at the edge of the field, and looks at him.

Joe narrows his eyes, appraising Evan’s back. ‘You don’t have an answer,’ he says.

‘I do.’

‘Go on, then. What?’

Without any further hesitation, Evan presses the green call button on his phone. As they stand in silence while the phone connects the call, he says, ‘Fifty-one per cent of the business.’

Joe reaches out and snatches the phone from his hand, pressing the red button to hang up. ‘Now you’re talking,’ Evan laughs. ‘Now some action.’ He meets Joe’s eyes in the darkness of the countryside. ‘What I will do,’ he says, ‘is call the police now, and you’ll be taken away. And when you are, I will produce the signed partnership deed and inherit the business, all of the Plants’ stakes having been voided for illegality.’

Joe stares at him. Evan’s parents are lawyers. He forgot. And Evan’s right. He knows he’s right, he remembers the solicitor going through the options for how the partnership would dissolve.