Kate giggled. ‘Well, if the cap fits!’

‘My sentiments entirely!’ Caitlin was roaring again. ‘Sure she’s a comical lass that one. So Kelly saw your old man then?’

He changed the subject so quickly he caught her offguard. ‘Yes. It’s all right.’

‘That Patrick Kelly is a very astute man, you know. You just let him sort out everything. You’re lucky to have such a good friend.’

She dropped her eyes.

‘Come on, Kate, we’ve still got a good half an hour. Let me buy you a drink in the pub. My throat’s as dry as a buzzard’s crotch!’

Kate closed her eyes. ‘You have a disgusting turn of phrase, you know.’

‘Sure me wife, poor woman, used to say that. God rest her nagging soul.’

‘You miss her, don’t you?’

‘I do, Katie, more every day. She had a tongue like an adder, but she was me wife. Come and have a drink, lass. This place gives me the heebie jeebies. All this youth makes me stomach turn.’

Kate stood up and followed him out of the canteen. She could do with a drink herself.

Elaine was sitting opposite George at the kitchen table. He had made her a cup of coffee and it stood in front of her, cold now, with a thick skin of milk floating on top. George had been silent, just smiling at her every now and then while he sipped his own coffee.

‘Elaine.’ His voice was so low she could barely hear him, but all the same she jumped in her seat.

‘Don’t be scared, Elaine. Would I hurt you? Now would I?’

She bit her lip.

‘I didn’t mean to murder anyone, believe me, my dear. It just happened.’ He spread out his hands in front of him in a gesture of helplessness. ‘I don’t know what it is. I just see them - they’re all whores, every last one of them.’

He was nodding to himself now and Elaine felt her nails bite into the flesh of her hands.

‘Even that bitch O’Leary, with the children. They’re much better off without her, believe me. You didn’t see her like I did, Elaine. Sprawled out on the dirt. She had no tights on, you know, and the weather was freezing. She was a slut . . . a dirty stinking slut.’

Elaine put her hands over her ears to block out his voice. George stood up. Fear overtaking her, Elaine made a rush for the kitchen door. As she ran George grabbed at her hair. She shrieked as pain tore through her. Blood began to seep from her wounded head on to the vivid orange locks. George punched her to the ground, every movement calculated and controlled. He stood over her and shook his head.

‘You’ve been a trial to me, Elaine, do you know that?’

Her lips were already swelling from his blows and she could taste the blood in her mouth.