She opened the lid of the tin with an expression of intense concentration and then noticed I was hovering by the door.

‘Are you just going to stand there like a long streak of bacon?’ she said. I would have smiled at another of her weird expressions under normal circumstances. They were often Scottish and nonsensical, like ‘Hold your wheesht.’ But something made me want to punish her a bit today for shouting at me. So I just shrugged.

She frowned.

‘Look,’ she took off her glasses, sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her voice was tight when she spoke again. ‘Has your mother no’ got anything she likes to keep away from prying eyes?’

I thought about Mum’s photo albums of her childhood and baby pictures of me, neatly stacked on the shelf by the telly. Anyone could look at those if they wanted and Mum wouldn’t care.

And then I got an almost physical thump of understanding. Mrs Mack meant valuable things. Jewellery, or money. I pictured a pirate’s treasure box, filled with gleaming gold coins and thick chains like the ones rappers wore, even though I knew it was more likely old lady jewellery or bank notes in there. The answer then was obvious.

‘No,’ I said. ‘We haven’t got anything like that.’

Mrs Mack made a dubious face and began to take out the pictures, placing them in a pile next to her on the sofa.

‘Well, I doubt that,’ she said, ‘but if you’re staying, come and sit down here. You’re giving me neck ache up there looking at you.’

I hesitated and then sat down. It was the only time I’d ever experienced a bit of tension in this house and I was glad to be given a way out.

Plus, I thought, later as I went home, I was flattered.

I had been allowed into her confidence.

ELLIOTT

When Anya came in the front door, it was evident she’d been caught in the sudden rain shower that was flinging itself dramatically at the windows. Her hair was slicked to her head so her light brown eyes looked huge in her face, like a beautiful manga creation.

She grimaced and took off her thin jacket, which was wringing wet.

‘Hey!’ I laughed. ‘How come you got so wet when you only had to come out of the station and hop into the car?’

She grimaced and began to head upstairs. ‘Really hammering, though,’ she called down. ‘And I got to the car then couldn’t find my bloody keys for ages.’

I laughed and started browning the chicken in the hot fat. After a while she came into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around me from behind, placing her head against my back. I could feel her trembling.