‘You actually can’t. I’m a free agent. More importantly, I’m not someone you want to threaten. Take it from me. I do whatever I deem necessary to protect innocent people. No limits.’

Anoushka Baarda took a long look into Connie’s eyes, made the best choice she had in a long time by deciding that she wasn’t going to challenge whatever she saw in them, gathered her bag and coat with nothing more retaliatory than a huff, and exited.

An hour later, there was a gentle knock at the door. Meggy entered, holding her father’s hand. The girl was bruised and tired, but alive. That was all that mattered.

‘They’re letting me go home today,’ Meggy said quietly. ‘I wanted … I wanted to say …’

There were tears before the end of the sentence. Connie went across the room and held her until they stopped.

‘You don’t have to say anything. Meggy, you’re amazing. You did what you had to. You saved my life, Baarda’s and Elspeth’s, too. Keep hold of that during the nightmares. You’re going to beat him and survive every time, because that’s what happened. There’ll be people to help you through this, but the truth is that you are your best defence. The strength you have, your will to survive, your spirit, Meggy. You can beat him as many times as you need to in your imagination until you really understand that he’s gone.’

She nodded, hugging Connie harder until her father pulled gently at her arm.

‘We should go,’ he said. ‘Looks like your friend is waking up.’

Meggy reached up, sliding her arms around Connie’s neck until her mouth was at Connie’s ear.

‘One day, when I’m a grown-up, will you tell me what really happened to him … in there?’

In the coffin, the girl meant. Sharper than all the adults involved, more able to stomach the truth as children always were.

‘I will,’ Connie whispered.

The girl released her grip.

Connie turned. Baarda’s eyes were open a fraction. He smiled as Connie called the nurse, raised his hand an inch off the bed as a wave to Meggy, then went back to sleep.

When he woke again the following day, Connie was still at his side.

‘Stop ranting,’ he whispered.

‘What are you talking—’

‘You’ve been reading me political editorials. Could you not have read me a decent novel?’

Connie laughed, leaning over to kiss his cheek. ‘Fergus, or Harris, is dead. Properly dead. Ailsa Lambert certified it herself.’

‘How?’ Baarda asked.

‘There was an incident with a belt. The details can wait.’

‘You look like hell,’ he said.

‘Fuck you very much. I’ll call the nurse.’ She stood up to leave.

‘Not yet.’ He managed to catch the tail of her shirt between his fingers. ‘Tell me. Elspeth, Xavier?’