‘Why don’t you just admit that killing Catholics gives you a buzz and spare us all the fucking pretence?’

I realised I was shouting. Better tone it down. Still, that riled him.

He sat up and hissed at me: ‘If you want to wring your hands over dead Taigs, go ahead. I won’t. The Provies killed my uncle, and he was never even into anything, just meeting his friend in a hotel when one of their bombs went off. They had to scrape him off the walls to have something to put in the coffin.

‘If it wasn’t for us defenders the Provies would already have murdered all of youse in your beds, like the cowardly wee shites that you are.’

‘Defenders? My friend is dead because of you. Why would we need the IRA to murder us, when we’ve got you?’ I yelled.

He glared back at me and said with slow deliberation, ‘I didn’t murder you or your big fat mate. More’s the pity. Wish I’d whacked you both.’

‘You don’t get it, do you?’ I said. ‘But sure what chance did you ever have, growing up with your vicious oul da and that looper McMullen?’

‘Leave my da out of it,’ he said. ‘He brought us up the best he could. And don’t talk about McMullen.’

‘Where’d your ma go?’ I asked. I meant it to sound harsh, but for a moment my tone faltered into normality.

‘What’s it to you?’ he said.

‘I just want to know.’

‘She pissed off and left us. I was seven, brother was nine. Probably off to Scotland with some fancy man. Covered her tracks. Didn’t want to be found, Da said, but he kept trying. That’s all. Happy now?’

‘Did you love her?’

‘She was my ma. But she left us. So I don’t love her now. What are you, a therapist? Shut the fuck up and let me go.’

‘What are you doing with that wee fella?’ I asked.

‘What wee fella?’

‘The one in your house. I could hear you talking. You’re planning something.’

‘D’you know him?’

‘No, I’ve just seen him around. So you’re getting kids to do your dirty work for you now?’

‘He’s doing nothing. Just keeping an eye out for us.’

‘What will you do if I let you go?’ I asked.

The silence stretched out taut, and then pinged back with a low, hoarse: ‘Kill you.’

‘If that’s the way, don’t you see I’ll have to finish you off now myself?’

Nothing.

‘That’s one idea. Here’s another. You leave me and my family alone and in exchange I don’t make the photos of you public.’

His eyes snapped open. ‘What photos?’