Tim lowers his hands and Nick backs away from him. Nick seems resigned to knowing he can play little part in whatever is being told now. He was too young to remember any of this. Tim turns to Patrick.

‘I was in Dad’s shed – his hermit hideaway, as he and Mum always referred to it – and I saw something strange, out of place, sticking up from underneath a chest of drawers – something he told us never to go near because it held dangerous tools. And it did – I looked. But that wasn’t the reason he told me to steer clear. No. It was what was underneath the chest that he was keen to keep hidden. I’d been watching him closely, though; had noticed odd behaviour. Caught him out in little lies. Little to begin with, that is, but then I tested him. Made him tell me something I knew to be a lie: where he’d been one evening. He told Mum he was gambling. Weirdly, I guess he felt telling her he was losing their money due to an addiction to poker was far better than the grief he’d get from what he was really going to be doing.’ Tim looks to Nick. ‘Our dad had a penchant for lap dancers. That’s where a lot of his money went. I guess that was an addiction too, together with the gambling. His most carefully guarded secret was what he did in private, though. His interest went beyond watching some scantily clad women dancing and gyrating on his lap – he liked them younger. Teenagers.’

I hear a sharp intake of breath from Barb. ‘Do we have to do this?’ she asks.

‘Sorry, Mum. Uncle Patrick wants the whole story, and the rest of them need to hear it, too. It affects us all.’

‘Go on,’ Patrick says.

‘I intend to,’ Tim says. ‘Although much of this you were already aware of, dear Uncle Pat!’

Patrick bristles. ‘Yes, I told you I had stuff I wanted to unburden – you know as well as I do that I played a part in it.’ His face crumples, layers of wrinkles folding up on themselves. Patrick seems conflicted. Maybe the truth he was after didn’t involve defaming his dead brother’s name. But he gathers himself and continues. ‘My brother’s ways weren’t acceptable, and I could, maybe, have done something about it. Before … before it got out of hand. I’ve had to live with so much regret …’

‘Good. As long as you know you’re as guilty as the rest of us,’ Tim says. ‘Because you’ll also know our father did get out of hand. He did take things much further – his private hobby became something he felt he had to take to the next level.’

‘That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about, yes, but it’s not how—’