Holly said coolly, ‘Because we didn’t like him. I mean, Becca would’ve probably been fine with it – she thought Chris was OK; like I said, she’s innocent. But Julia and I would’ve been like, “Are you serious? He’s an enormous tool, he thinks he’s this big playa, he’s probably three-timing you, what is wrong with you?” Selena doesn’t like arguments – specially not with Julia, because Julia never ever backs down. I can totally see where Lenie would’ve been like, “Oh, I’ll tell them in a while, when I’m sure it’s going somewhere, meanwhile I’ll just try and get them to see he might not be a total prick after all, it’ll all turn out fine in the end . . .” She’d still be doing that now, if they hadn’t broken up. And if he hadn’t died, obviously.’

Something off there, just a notch. I wasn’t one of Selena’s best mates, what did I know, but all the same: the flinch, when she remembered leaving her best mates behind, sleeping and lied-to. That had hurt. She didn’t seem like the type to do it for half a reason. Weather the argument and wait, gazing peacefully, let Julia storm herself out and Holly roll her eyes. Not squirm away, slice the others out of that crucial piece of her, just because they didn’t fancy hers much.

Why lie about that?

I said, ‘So you figure she didn’t tell you because she knew you’d want to protect her.’

‘If that’s how you want to say it. Whatever.’

Mackey, still pinching that clay about, still lounging, but watching me now, eyes hooded. I said, ‘But she was wrong. When you actually found out, you didn’t feel any need to protect her after all, no?’

Holly shrugged. ‘From what? They were over. Happy ending.’

‘Happy ending,’ I said. ‘Only then Chris died. And you still didn’t tell Selena you knew. Why not? You had to figure she was devastated. You didn’t think she could use a bit of protecting then? A shoulder to cry on, maybe?’

Holly threw herself back in the chair, fists clenching, so sudden I jumped. ‘OhmyGod, I didn’t know what she needed! I thought maybe she just wanted to be left alone, I thought if I said anything she’d be raging with me, I thought about it all the time and I couldn’t work out what to do for her. Because I’m crap or whatever you’re trying to say, yeah, you’re right. OK? Just leave me alone.’

I saw the little kid I remembered, furious with bafflement, red-faced and table-kicking. Behind her, Mackey’s eyes closed for a second: she hadn’t come to him. Then opened again. Stayed on me.