‘Laurence …’

‘There is no point in saying you’re sorry. That’s what everyone has said. Sorry, sorry. The whole world was screaming sorry at me. Even the bastards who killed them said they were sorry. They said I must understand that they deplored all the deaths of innocent civilians, but they weren’t to blame. It was the fault—’

‘You don’t have to tell me. I know what they said.’

‘I hate. I have hated now for two years and I can’t rid myself of that burden. I hate myself too. I even hate the children I teach.’ He looked up at her and gave an angry grin. ‘See what happens when you invite unknown men to have coffee with you.’

‘It’s risky,’ she agreed.

‘I hate.’ He repeated the words quite loudly and the girl at the counter looked over towards them. Mrs Barry lifted two fingers to indicate more coffee.

‘Black,’ she said aloud across the room. He didn’t seem to notice.

‘The police came for me at the school and I thought she’d had an accident. Christ no, I kept saying to myself. Driving too fast. I always told her to drive carefully. “What’s she done? What’s she done? Is she all right? Is the baby …? Is the …?” I must have been muttering out aloud. She liked to take dodgy little risks; nip round a corner here, pass a brute there. I used to hold onto my seat and hope for the best, but I never expected her to have an accident. Never. She drove well. Fast, yes, but well. I didn’t hear what they were saying, until one of them took me by the arm and said, “You’re not getting the drift,” and the headmaster said, “Stop blethering, Lar, and listen to what the man is telling you.” Then I heard. That was the moment I heard. In his study. It was a blustery day, Mrs Barry, and I could hear the wind in his chimney. A very old-fashioned sound, that. Like a fucking banshee. I’m sorry.’

‘That’s all right,’ she said.

‘I heard. She nipped past an army truck, they told me and landed on this bridge.’ He picked up his spoon again and twiddled it in his fingers for a moment and then put it back down in the saucer. ‘Just as this bugger shoved a plunger.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘I had to identify them, Mrs Barry. At least then I knew they were dead. This was no f … joke. No one was playing a joke on me. I knew that then for sure. I don’t suppose you can imagine what it’s like to identify a ten-month-old baby who’s been …’

She put out a hand and touched his arm.

‘Just stop a minute,’ she said. ‘Take a breath.’

She sounded like a bloody schoolteacher, he thought. He took a breath.

‘That’s better,’ she said.

‘My wife and child died for Ireland.’

‘Laurence …’

‘So that Ireland should be free from the centre to the sea and hurrah for liberty says the Shan Van Vocht.’