‘Listen, Hugh,’ Tony said. ‘I’m not sure–’

Duggan stopped, gripped his arm. ‘Do you remember the fucker who drove over your brother? Do you remember that?’

Tony nodded, compelled to agree by the vehemence of Hugh’s tone.

‘Then we need to help shift stuff across. We’ve taken a bit of a hit to the supply chain recently.’

‘I don’t know how to–’

‘You don’t have to do anything,’ Duggan said. ‘Go for dinner, have a drink, drive home. Leave the car. That’s all.’

Tony looked across at Karen who was staring at Duggan.

‘What do you think?’ he asked her.

‘Why not?’ she said. ‘Dinner would be nice.’

‘Why us?’

‘A young couple in love is more normal than me sitting on my own for two hours and then driving back here again. Besides, people know my face; youse two are so young and sweet no one will look twice at the pair of you.’

Tony took a breath, considered his choices. The idea of an evening with Karen appealed to him much more than the thought of them carrying whatever they would be carrying frightened him.

‘That night you were lifted, you told me you wanted to see someone answer for Danny. Other people agreed, volunteered. Everyone plays their part: some are more active, risk their lives; some have dinner and drive a car back into town again.’

Tony felt Karen’s hand briefly take his, giving it a squeeze of encouragement.

‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘It’ll be nice.’

He felt something stirring deep inside him at her touch and the excitement of what they were going to do together. The clandestine nature of it. The visceral nature of what he hoped it might lead to. He tightened his grip on hers a moment but, when he released it, she let his hand go.

They went to a bar in the centre of town. The place was busy, though the night air was alive with the sound of sirens. It struck Tony that, having been so used to them at home, he’d become accustomed to their absence here in Scotland.

Karen seemed more at ease now, sitting forward in her seat, both hands cradling her glass. She wore a dark green, short-sleeved dress, long and belted at the waist, and a pair of brown workman’s boots. Her legs crossed, Tony was aware each time her foot touched his leg under the table; indeed, conspired for it to happen.

‘Hugh says your brother died recently,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. That’s terrible.’

Tony shrugged. ‘My dad was shattered by it. You know the way you always think you’re your parents’ favourite – well, maybe you don’t, but I did. I realised after Danny died that he was. Dad just sort of crumpled when it happened. Even when the cops arrested us the night of the funeral, he didn’t fight back. They had to drag me down the stairs.’

‘That’s when you met Hugh?’

Tony nodded.

‘How’s your dad now?’

‘Alive,’ Tony joked. ‘But Danny was his favourite; it’ll kill him eventually.’