Lovely and peaceful, till you looked hard. Then you saw. Runners jittering under tables, bared teeth gnawing at the edge of a juice glass. Orla curling in tight on herself, trying not to take up space. A heavy girl with her back to me looked like she was lashing into her food, but over her shoulder I caught a full plate of chicken pie chopped into tiny perfect squares, getting tinier with each vicious cut.

‘Joanne,’ Conway said.

Joanne threw a tsk and a disgusted eye-roll at the ceiling, but she came. She was wearing the same outfit as Orla, give or take: short jeans shorts, tights, pink hoodie, Converse. On Orla they looked like she’d been dressed by someone with a grudge; on Joanne they looked like she’d been made that way, all in one mould.

We went back to her room. ‘Have a seat,’ I said, held out a hand to her bed. ‘Sorry we’ve no chair, but we’ll only be a few minutes.’

Joanne stayed standing, arms folded. ‘I’m actually eating dinner?’

In a bit of a fouler, our Joanne. Orla was in big trouble. ‘I know,’ I said, nice and humble. ‘I won’t keep you. I have to tell you, I’ve got a couple of questions that you might not like, but I need answers, and I’m not sure anyone’s got them but you.’

That caught her in the curiosity, or in the vanity. Long-suffering sigh, and she dropped onto her bed. ‘OK. I guess.’

‘I appreciate it,’ I said. Sat down on Gemma’s bed, facing Joanne, staying well away from the thrown-off clothes. Conway melted off into the background, leaning against the door. ‘First off, and I know Orla’s already told you this: we’ve found your key to the connecting door between here and the main building. Yous were sneaking out at night.’

Joanne had her mouth half-open to deny it and her outraged face half-on – autopilot – when Conway held up the Thérèse book. ‘Covered in fingerprints,’ she said.

Joanne put the outraged look away for later. ‘So?’ she said.

I said, ‘So this is confidential. We’re not about to pass it on to McKenna, get you in trouble. We’re just sorting what’s important from what’s not. OK?’

‘Whatever.’

‘Lovely. So what’d yous do, when you snuck out?’

A little reminiscent smirk, slackening Joanne’s mouth. After a moment she said, ‘Some of the Colm’s day boys came in over the back wall. I mean, I don’t normally hang out with day boys, but Garret Neligan knew where his parents kept their drinks and . . . stuff, so whatever. We did that a couple of times, but then Garret’s mum caught him and she started locking stuff up, so we didn’t bother any more.’

Stuff. Garret had been getting into Mammy’s meds. ‘When was this?’