“This stops now,” he said. “Whatever this is, whatever is going on in that fucked-up mind of yours, it’s over. You’ve humiliated me in front of my father, in front of my mother, my whole family, and anyone else who hears you ran off with a fucking spark.”

“I didn’t run—”

“Shut up,” Damien said. “You don’t say a word unless I tell you to. You understand?”

She did not answer.

“I’m angry,” he said. “I was angry last night. I shouldn’t have hit you, but I was angry. And I’m sorry. But I won’t be made to look a cunt in front of my family. We’ll get through this. I’ll get you a counsellor or a therapist or whatever you need to help you get your head straight, but we’ll get through it. This time next year, the house will be all done up, we’ll maybe a have a kid. We’ll be a family. But this . . .”

Sara recoiled as he jabbed his finger against her head.

“You have to get this sorted. And that wee shit Tony Rossi won’t be coming anywhere near you or this house ever again.”

“Is he dead?” Sara asked, her voice no more than a papery whisper. “Did Francie kill him?”

Damien looked straight-ahead, through the windscreen to the fledgling lawn and the trees. “My da never killed anyone,” he said. “Anyone who says he did is a fucking liar.”

“Tony’s a good man,” Sara said. “A decent man. He didn’t do any—”

Damien snatched a handful of her hair and pulled her close, his nose almost touching hers. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he said, the words forced through his teeth.

She felt his breath and spittle on her lips. Then he released her hair and sat back, slowly shaking his head as if he were dealing with a dim-witted child.

“There must have been witnesses,” she said. “The houses all around. Someone must have seen.”

“An estate like that?” Damien said. “No. Nobody there talks to the cops. No one saw anything. They never see anything.”

She wept once more and he sat quiet for a time, as if indulging her. Then he opened the driver’s door and climbed out. He came around to the passenger side and reached in for her, his hands hard but gentle.

“Come on,” he said, easing her out of the car. “When we get inside, you go and clean yourself up. You stink.”

She stood, her arms at her sides, her gaze on the gravel beneath her feet, while he unlocked the front door. He took her by the arm and guided her inside, the gloom of the hall closing around her. Two words appeared in her mind, shocking her.

I’m home, she thought.