I saw the instant where a streak of fear flew bright across Rebecca’s face, and she thought about lying. No reason why she should, nothing there that could get her in trouble as far as I could see, but that was where she turned all the same. Conway was right about this one, anyway: a liar, at least when she was scared; at least when something pulled her separate from her friends, put her in the spotlight all alone.

Not stupid, though, scared or not. Took her half a second to realise there was no point. She said, ‘Me.’

I nodded like I’d noticed nothing. ‘And then yous came up to the art room. All four of you together, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And what did you do?’

‘We have this project.’ She untangled one hand from her skirt, pointed at a table by the windows: bulky shape under a paint-spattered dropcloth. ‘Selena was doing calligraphy, and Holly was grinding up chalk for snow, and Julia and I were mostly making stuff out of copper wire. We’re doing the school a hundred years ago – it’s art and history together. It’s complicated.’

‘Sounds it. So you put in the extra time,’ I said. Approving. ‘Whose idea was that?’

The approval did nothing for Rebecca. ‘Everyone’s needed to use study time on the project. We did last week, too.’

Which could have been when someone’s light bulb switched on. ‘Yeah? Whose idea was it to come back last night?’

‘I don’t even remember. We all knew we needed to.’

‘And did all of yous stay here the whole time, till nine? Or did anyone go out of the room?’

Rebecca unwrapped her hands from her skirt and tucked them under her thighs. I was lobbing the questions fast and she was still wound tight and wary, and getting warier all the time, but the wariness was scattergun stuff, general cover; she didn’t know where to point it. Unless she was good or I was thick, she didn’t know about the card.

‘Only for like a minute.’

‘Who went where?’

Fine dark eyebrows pulled down. Brown eyes ticking back and forth between me and Conway.

Conway traced over table graffiti with her Biro. I waited.

‘How come?’ Rebecca asked. ‘How come you need to know?’

I left a silence. Rebecca matched it. All those thin elbows and knees looked like sharp corners, not so frail any more.

Conway had got her far wrong, or a year had taken her a long way. Rebecca wasn’t looking for a confidence boost, wasn’t looking for me or anyone to make her feel special. She wasn’t Alison, wasn’t Orla. I was going wrong.

Conway’s head had come up. She was watching me.

I binned the easy slouch, straightened my spine. Leaning forward, hands clasped between my knees. Adult to adult.