‘There’s every reason to get upset,’ I tell her. ‘I see what’s going on here. I know Ciara isn’t the only person who thinks I’m to blame. Because of course I’d be to blame. Poor Heidi. Unhinged and mad. Sure, it was only a matter of time before I did something really bad, wasn’t it?’ I mock.

Kathleen has the good grace to blush, but I see how her body language changes, too. She tenses, pulls herself away from me a little. Does she think I’m not done? Does she think I’ve more people to despatch from this earth? More people who have wronged me? Because I’m sure she knows she wronged me, too.

Each of the McKees is as bad as each other and I won’t be the fall guy for their twisted ways any more.

‘I’m not saying that at all,’ Kathleen says meekly.

‘But you’re thinking it,’ I say, my voice low. ‘It’s written all over your face.’

I’m about to say more, when DC Black comes back into the room. As quick as anything, Kathleen is on her feet making him a cup of tea, even though he says he’s had more than enough for one day.

I think we’ve all had more than enough – of everything – for one day. I’ve had more than enough for a lifetime.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Heidi

Then

Even as a teenager Ciara McKee could be unspeakably cruel. She was spectacularly lacking in any form of empathy.

She wore her hatred for me as blatantly as she wore her heavy goth make-up and her thick-soled boots. She was as wicked as any evil step-sister could be. I started to dread her visits.

It soon became not good enough that I simply stayed out of her way when she came over. She would come and find me, seemingly with the express purpose of making me feel as bad about myself as possible.

I spent my prepubescent years dreading every second weekend, knowing what was coming. The fact that I dreaded it even more than the weekends she didn’t visit – the weekends when it was just Joe and me in the house – said a lot.

Is it any wonder my young mind started to struggle with notions of love and boundaries and what constituted abuse, given I was so desperate for attention and for affection?

When I was roughly eleven and Ciara would have been sixteen, I remember her perching on the end of my bed as I tried to read. I had taken to keeping my head in a book, escaping to more peaceful worlds as much as possible.

I wanted Ciara to leave me alone but I was too afraid to tell her to get lost, so I just did my best to ignore her.

‘Do you know what I’d do if nobody wanted me the way no one wants you?’ she said, a fraction too loudly for me to ignore.

I made the mistake of looking up and catching her gaze for the briefest of moments.