‘That’s a beautiful name,’ Duggan said, though he couldn’t possibly have understood the child’s response. He smiled at her, earning another giggle, just before her mother grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her away.

‘Sorry,’ she said, her voice nasal, her hair hanging in straggles in front of her face. ‘Emma, don’t be annoying folk.’

‘She’s grand,’ Duggan offered in placation, but too late to prevent both the forcible removal of the child and her screaming in protest.

‘I never took you for the type to play with kids,’ Karen said.

‘Sure, I’ve five of me own across two marriages,’ he said. ‘A grandkiddie on the way, too.’

‘Congratulations,’ Tony managed, the word dry in his mouth, bittered by the barren nature of his own retirement.

‘They’re in America. I never see them.’

‘Are you going across when it’s born?’ Karen asked.

‘Can’t,’ Duggan said simply. ‘They won’t let me in the country.’ He did not attempt to explain the reason for this. ‘What was I saying?’

Tony sensed Karen slumping a little in her seat, as if the flicker of humanity she had recognised in Duggan had been extinguished.

‘He was the one gave the order on Kelly,’ Tony said, for Karen had taken out her phone and was checking the screen for messages.

‘Are you recording this?’ Duggan asked.

‘Jesus,’ she said, holding the phone up. ‘I’m checking the kids haven’t called.’

Duggan raised his chin a little, mollified, then continued. ‘He was the one gave me the go-ahead on Martin. He was the one said without doubt he was convinced that it was Martin that had done it.’

‘Uncle Sean can’t make it,’ Barr cut into the conversation, causing Tony to start, having not heard his approach.

‘What?’

‘Like I said, he’s too busy,’ Barr said, attempting confidence but just missing.

‘Give me the phone,’ Duggan demanded, his hand outstretched imperiously.

‘He’s busy.’

‘Call him back and give me the phone.’

‘No,’ Barr said, surprising even himself with the comment.

‘Call him back and give me the phone, son,’ Duggan repeated. ‘This isn’t your fight.’

Barr hesitated a moment too long, before trying to argue again, but it was clear his resolve was crumbling. After two more such exchanges, he redialled and handed the phone across to Duggan. Then he stood uneasily next to the picnic bench, waiting for Duggan to finish.

‘Seanie,’ Duggan said lightly, once the call had connected. ‘We’ve been chatting here. We’re not going any further unless we know you’re going to be there.’

He listened for a second, nodding his head. ‘You’re not even an hour away: we’re probably the same… I don’t give a shit, pal. You don’t turn up, we’re not turning up.’