‘Nah, not too much. Mrs Buchannan’s car broke down and caused a traffic hazard but that was about it.’

‘My little men? They’re doing well thanks, mate. Anyway, just checking in. Gotta get back to business.’

‘Yep. Bye, mate—beer soon!’

Mitch puts his phone carefully on the table. ‘Well,’ he says. ‘Seems Harry didn’t verify your story.’

Lucy sighs. ‘He was covering for me,’ she says.

‘What, by not covering for you?’ He smirks.

He knows, she thinks. Knows I didn’t do it and now all he’s doing is using the clout of his badge to pry shamelessly. She resigns herself to it, closes her eyes and says: ‘He’s covering for me, because last night we slept together. And then I had a swim. And then I saw you and we came here, and I went to bed.’

‘I’ll bet you had a swim,’ Mitch says, leering.

Lucy’s phone starts ringing.

Mitch is grinning widely now. ‘That’ll be Harry, I expect,’ he says, heaving himself to his feet.

She looks at her phone. It is. She flicks it to silent.

‘Well, now we’ve cleared all that up, I’ll be on my way,’ Mitch says.

She stands too, but he fobs her off. ‘Don’t worry. You answer that.’ He nods to her buzzing phone. ‘I can see myself out. And Lucy? No hard feelings. It was just civic duty, you see? And don’t worry: me lips are sealed.’

Harry is at the front door five minutes later. He follows her mutely down the hallway and then, in the kitchen, he bundles her in his arms. She explains it to him in a jumble of words, which spill into one another in a torrent only cut up by her sobs. Her cheek is pressed flat against his sternum and his hands stroke her hair as they talk.

‘There’s something about Mitch,’ she says. ‘It feels like he really hates me, or something. Like he wants to watch me squirm.’

Harry’s quiet for a moment, then he rumbles, ‘Mitch can be like that. He’s always had weird hang-ups about women.’

Lucy doesn’t say anything; she just nuzzles closer.

‘So what do I do?’ Harry asks.

‘What do you mean?’

‘If he comes and asks me. What do I say?’

‘The truth, I guess. It’s not like he doesn’t know.’

‘No. Not about that, about … about the other thing. Jem?’

She stiffens in his arms. ‘I won’t ask you to lie, Harry.’

‘Did you?’ he asks.

‘What? Lie?’

‘Yeah.’

‘No,’ she says, voice stilted. ‘I just didn’t answer questions that weren’t asked.’

‘But are you going to do anything about it?’ he persists. ‘Lucy, it’s … it’s manslaughter.’

‘I know. But … I mean, it was just a prank, you know? It was just a prank,’ she repeats the words, like she’s trying to convince herself. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. It’s all so fucked. How did it all get so fucked? What do you think I should do?’ She presses her face into his chest again as she waits for his reply.