‘Absolutely. She told me to stay away from her stepmother.’ He pauses. ‘It wasn’t enough for her though. Someone slashed my car tyres a little while ago. It doesn’t take much to work out who.’

‘You think Hollie did that?’ The DI’s eyes don’t leave Buckley’s face.

‘For goodness’ sake, there’s hardly anyone else around here who would have.’

‘Do you have proof?’

‘I don’t need proof, Detective Inspector.’

The DI leans forward. ‘Did you report it at the time?’

‘No, but …’

The DI interrupts. ‘Apart from your affair with Mrs Hampton, was there any other reason she might have wanted to hurt you?’

‘This has no bearing whatsoever on why my client is here.’ This time McClure is more forceful.

‘I think it does.’ The DI keeps his calm. ‘From what Doctor Buckley’s just told us, it’s clear he believes himself a more credible source than anyone else.’ He corrects himself. ‘No, infallible, I think the word is. I suggest that the same applies to everything he’s said about Mrs Buckley, though his account is no less subjective and no more credible than hers. As I was asking …’ He pauses. ‘Is there any other reason, Doctor Buckley, why Hollie Hampton might have wanted to cause you trouble?’

‘Not that I’m aware of.’ His face gives nothing away.

‘You’ve told us you don’t think Hollie was a good influence on Niamh … Did you feel the same way about her relationship with your son?’

‘My son is dead.’ Andrew Buckley’s whisper is menacing. ‘Life was very different before he died – for all of us. Including Hollie.’

As I watch him, Andrew Buckley swallows. Then he turns and mutters something to his lawyer. As McClure clears his throat, I can guess what’s coming.

‘My client is exhausted. He’s been under immense strain dealing with his wife’s problems. I suggest we continue this conversation another time.’

The DI nods. ‘Very well.’

‘Thank God.’ As Andrew Buckley stands up to leave, the DI interjects.

‘Sit down, Doctor Buckley. I’d like to remind you that you’re under arrest. You’re not going anywhere.’

Niamh

I watch from upstairs as my father is taken off in the police car, and I run to the bathroom just in time before I’m sick. The police aren’t going to make anything better. They didn’t when Dylan died.

Whenever he speaks, my father undoes everything my mother says before adding his lies. ‘Elise is unstable … She doesn’t know what she’s doing … I try to look after her … I don’t know what else to do for her …’ Then, when he thinks no-one’s watching, he hits her.

My mother’s shaky after the police leave, and when she looks at me, I see she’s as frightened as I am. We both know he’ll come back. He always does. Each time angrier than the last.