Then he grabs me by the elbow and yanks me over to him. He clamps both his arms around me and holds me so close that I see all the fine lines on his cheeks. ‘Poor Joanna,’ he whispers. I don’t pull away but I hold my back stiff, keep my arms by my sides. ‘Have you heard anything from your dad?’ he asks.

I pull away from him and walk to the other side of the bridge. If Dad was here, we’d be in the gift shop. If Dad was here, we wouldn’t be here at all.

After a while Simon comes over and coughs in a fake way. ‘We’re supposed to be talking about history. Did you know that guy was just given this house? For winning a battle?’

‘Winning a battle’s a big thing.’

‘Not for his type. His type win battles by leading poorer men to their deaths. Stepping on people’s heads to get what they want. They’re bullies. Taking advantage of people like you, Joanna.’

‘And people like Shane.’

‘Isn’t Shane the bully?’

I laugh at that, but Simon looks serious. ‘You should be careful, Joanna. If your father was here, he’d tell you.’

‘What do you know about my dad?’

He stares at me.

‘Dad likes Shane, anyway.’

Before I can back away, he’s got an arm round my shoulder. The metal of my earring clicks against his watch. ‘Anyway,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll look after you. If you’ll let me.’ His cold fingers are on my neck.

I snort. But I let his fingers work their way up into my hair.

‘What will I do if you’re not here?’

‘Then you’ll have to look after yourself.’

‘I can look after myself already.’

‘Can you?’ His breath is on my scalp.

‘Mum will be wondering where we are.’ I shrug his arm off my shoulder and walk back across the bridge. My legs are shaky, but each step I take is deliberate, and I don’t get any shit on my shoes.

seven: Howard, November, 1985

seven

Howard

November, 1985

The sky was almost black, and from the way the wind whirled the remains of leaves around on the front lawn – first one way, then the other, each time a little more frantic – I knew there was a storm coming.

I didn’t try to stop Robert going out, not that time. We’d had our chat and I told myself I should be willing to give him another chance.

When he’d gone, I found Kathryn standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me.

‘What did you say to him?’

I didn’t respond.

‘He was out of here like a thunderbolt, whatever it was.’ She followed me down the hall. ‘What did you say to him, Howard?’

‘Nothing.’