Patrick’s face is set – it has a stony-grey pallor to it. I stare at him for a few moments before letting him in the front door. I quickly cast my eyes up and down the road. I can’t see anyone, but it is daylight on a weekend, so the likelihood is high that at least one person would’ve seen him stroll up the path and enter the house. It doesn’t matter, I suppose. No one knows who he is; why he’s here.

Apart from Davina, of course, but she doesn’t know all of it.

He’s joined the others in the lounge when I get back inside: the silence is unnerving. I’m the first to break it.

‘Now we’ve all had a little time to allow … the revelations … to sink in, I think we need to consider how we’re going to move forwards.’

‘You mean what you and I are going to do with the information we’re now in possession of?’ Patrick says. ‘The fact my brother was killed and buried in his own garden by his teenage son?’

‘Yes, that,’ I say. I look to Barb. As agreed prior to Patrick’s arrival, she’s going to take the reins from here. I sit back, lower my head. My fingers nervously twist a loose thread on my jumper.

‘We need to know your intentions, Patrick,’ Barb says. Her skin has more colour to it today – less pasty than last night. Despite her ordeal, being hit on the head doesn’t seem to have caused any lasting damage – her mind certainly seemed crystal clear when she was telling me and Nick the full story from her point of view just moments ago. I’m still reeling from hearing it all. The absolute truth, they said. Her head’s also now clear in terms of what she thinks should happen next – about how we are going to deal with the consequences of what was revealed as the truth last night.

‘I said it before, I’ll say it again – it’s not for us to decide. We’re not God; we’re not judge and jury. I did wrong, leaving the way I did. Ignoring what was underneath my nose. That makes me implicit in’ – he takes a deep breath – ‘in Bern’s actions, too. I knew he wasn’t right in the head, that things had gone beyond fantasy. And I’m ready to be handed whatever punishment is deemed fit. As you should be.’

I look up. Barb’s face has turned red.