Added to that, he’d been seen by the two boys: they’d recognised him as a Northerner; he’d told them he lived in Derry; they’d seen his face; they’d seen his car, albeit with the plates changed, as Duggan had insisted.

‘I don’t think I can do this,’ he admitted to himself.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

‘I don’t think I can do this,’ Tony said.

‘We’re nearly there,’ Karen said.

‘We’ve not even reached the woods yet,’ Tony protested. ‘And he’s working to God knows what agenda of his own,’ he added, pointing over to the retreating figure of Duggan. Barr had returned to the car, humiliated at having been forced into calling his uncle.

‘We know why he’s doing it; he’s been very clear about it.’ She waited a beat, then added, ‘Regardless, it’s the right thing to do. We’ll find whereabouts it was, tell Mullan, and go home. You’ll never see any of us again.’

Tony looked up at her, a little mournfully, and she must have recognised his sadness, for she laid her hand on his arm. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘I often wondered where you’d ended up,’ Tony said, prompted by the tenderness of her touch.

She smiled lightly, briefly. ‘I’m sure you’d plenty of other things to keep you busy.’

‘I still thought of you. After all that had happened. I hoped you were happy.’

‘I was,’ she said, gently. ‘I am.’

‘I should have just walked away, thirty years ago,’ Tony said. ‘When I saw him with the doll, I wanted to. I went to Duggan, but it was too far gone.’

‘I wish you had. That night after you and Kelly fought.’

‘We didn’t fight. I hit him,’ Tony said, with mock offence.

‘I recall it a little differently,’ Karen laughed. ‘You weren’t a scrapper, even then. But when Duggan called the meeting for you two to make up and he gave you a choice, I wanted you to walk away.’

‘You should have said.’

‘I did.’

‘You didn’t. You were playing with a beer mat. I looked to you, hoping you’d tell me to leave it, but you didn’t.’

‘I asked you to walk away. You said no.’

I don’t…’ Tony started, then stopped. In his head, the scene played out again, differently now. Duggan had put the question to him. He’d straightened up, glanced at Karen. She was looking at him, nodding lightly. ‘Please,’ formed on her lips.

‘I’m not out,’ he said, finally.

Karen sat up, tearing the final strips of card from the beer mat and dropping them to the table in frustration.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, now. ‘I thought you hadn’t.’ He was still confused, unsure which version of the past was the right one. If either of them were.