‘You say it wasn’t any of your mates. Which means it had to be Joanne Heffernan or one of her friends. They’re the only other people who were in the building at the right time.’

‘You said it was them. I didn’t. I don’t have a clue.’

‘Would they? Make it up?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Why?’

Shrug. ‘Maybe they were bored. They wanted something to happen. And now here you are.’

Flare to her nostril: They. Rebecca didn’t think much of Joanne’s lot. Meek little thing, to look at. Not so meek inside.

‘And Chris,’ I said. ‘Who do you think did that?’

Rebecca said – no pause – ‘Guys from Colm’s. I think a bunch of them sneaked in here – maybe they were planning some kind of joke, like stealing something or painting something; a few years ago some of them came in one night with spray cans and sprayed a picture all across our playing field.’ Tinge of red running up her cheeks. She wasn’t going to tell us what the picture had been. ‘I think they came in for something like that, but then they had a fight. And . . .’

Her hands spreading. Setting the image loose, to float away on the air.

I said, ‘Was Chris the kind of guy who would do that? Sneak out of his school, come in here on a prank?’

Some picture unfolded inside Rebecca’s mind, taking her away from us. She watched it. Said, ‘Yeah. He was.’

Something lying across her voice, a long shadow. Rebecca had had feelings about Chris Harper. Good or bad, I couldn’t tell, but strong.

I said, ‘If you could tell me just one thing about him, what would it be?’

Rebecca said, unexpectedly: ‘He was kind.’

‘Kind? How?’

‘This one time, we were hanging around outside the shopping centre and my phone was doing something weird; it looked like I’d lost all my photos. A couple of the other guys were being total morons – like, “Ooo, what did you have on there, were there photos of . . . ”’ The tinge of red again. ‘Just stupid stuff. But Chris went, “Here, give me a look,” and he took the phone off me and started trying to fix it. The idiots thought that was hilarious, but Chris didn’t care. He just fixed the phone and gave it back to me.’

A small sigh. The picture in her mind folded away, slid into its drawer. She was looking at us again.

‘When I think about Chris, that’s what I think about. That day.’

A girl like Rebecca, that day could have meant a lot. Could have rooted and grown, inside her mind.

Conway moved. Said, ‘You got a boyfriend?’

‘No.’

Instant. Almost scornful, like it was a stupid question: You got a rocket ship?

‘Why not?’

‘Do I have to?’

‘A lot of people do.’

Rebecca said flatly, ‘I don’t.’