‘I need to speak to Tom – and to Dad.’

‘I’m very disappointed in you,’ said Conor’s father, as he patrolled the front room. ‘Very disappointed in both of you.’ He tipped his head in Tom’s direction. Tom’s dad was there too, his eyes baggy, his face grey. His clothes looked like he’d slept in them. Maybe he had. Usually Mr Crossan was all jokes and sport, and it was weird to see him like this. Tom’s mam was still resting.

Awkward as it was, Conor hadn’t wanted to tell the story without Tom. He didn’t want anyone accusing him of being a snitch. In Conor’s world, there were few people more despised than a snitch. After Tom had seen the paper, he’d reluctantly agreed to talk.

They’d given their fathers the full rundown: the beer, the cigarettes, Tess, Nina, everything. Tom had pleaded with the grown-ups not to say anything to Nina’s parents. ‘They’ll get upset,’ he’d pointed out. ‘What good would that do?’ Neither man had replied. Conor’s dad had pulled a face, while Tom’s had closed his eyes. Although Conor knew he’d have to warn the girls, he suspected that leaving the house wouldn’t be easy.

The snow had returned and, even though it was barely two in the afternoon, the lights were on. His dad came to a halt beside the fireplace. ‘To be clear about this,’ he said, ‘there was no funny business?’

‘I don’t—’ began Tom.

‘No,’ said Conor. ‘We were being friends. That’s all.’

‘Fine, but if I find out there was anything else …’

‘I swear to God, Dad, we were only talking.’ He hesitated. ‘We haven’t … we haven’t messed up the investigation, have we?’

‘No.’ His father sighed. ‘Now you’ve told the truth, you’ve … well, you’ve cleared up something that’s been confusing us. It’s a shame you didn’t have the guts to come forward yesterday. You’d have saved us all a lot of hassle. I thought I’d raised you to be honest.’

‘Sorry,’ said Conor, for what might have been the thousandth time.

‘And of course I’m going to feel like a total fool going back to the station and saying, “Guess what, lads? You know the butt and the bottle top we found in the snow? As chance would have it, they belong to my son and his friend. The young eejits were trying to impress two lassies.”’ Another sigh. ‘That’s going to go down well with the boys from Dublin, I can tell you.’

Conor stopped himself saying sorry again.

‘So,’ said his dad, ‘are you sure you didn’t see or hear anything?’

‘I promise.’

‘And what about you, Tom? When you went up to the door, did you spot anything unusual? Anything at all?’

‘No,’ said Tom, all the while staring at the carpet. ‘Not a thing.’