‘We’re in this together, lovie, OK?’

Right now, I was just glad he was alive.

Melissa

Helplessly, I watched Ruby and Zach cross to the corner and turn down towards their estate, Ruby practically dragging him behind her, like a much smaller child.

I’d witnessed Zach’s utter panic, his desperation palpable: literally vibrating off the walls of the houses. I’d seen the terror and the anger in Ruby’s face – and I felt a fierce and contradictory need to offer some sort of solace. But what could I say?

I’d also heard Cecilia’s police statement – and that was that. Innocuous as the details might once have been considered – innocuous in mine and Ruby’s day, at least.

Rules are rules though.

No means no – and that’s what Ceci said she’d told Zach.

As the Marches disappeared from view, Rex was already back in his pristine Toyota, marred only by his ‘Not Today’ bumper sticker, about to reverse into our fussy little drive.

Why have more flowers or greenery, after all, when you can have a patch of autonomous concrete.

‘OK?’ asked Fin quietly, in a tone that suggested I wasn’t.

‘Fine, ta.’ Watching Rex from the corner of my eye, like the mouse in the hawk’s eye I’d become, I heard his phone ring. ‘Bad day, that’s all.’

‘Aha,’ Fin murmured. ‘You don’t look fine though.’

‘Charming! I am, really.’ Except I could murder a cold bottle of Chardonnay or three. ‘Just a bit tired, that’s all.’

‘What was all that about, with your man there so pissed off?’ He nodded at Rex, now engrossed in a loud conversation on the phone about Ofsted.

‘It’s complicated.’

‘Try me.’ He half grinned. ‘I’m grand at listening.’

‘It’s…’ It came out in a big gloopy rush. ‘There’s been an allegation. That Zach there, the boy – that he kind of – somehow’ – I searched for the word – ‘molested my stepdaughter, Ceci. Groped, I suppose, might be a better word.’

He frowned. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry.’

‘So am I.’ I shrugged. ‘Even more so cos he’s the son of my best mate. It just seems…’ I sighed heavily. ‘It’s all a bit shit.’

‘Sounds it.’ Delving in his jeans, Fin produced a squashed packet of fags. ‘When was all of this then?’

‘Saturday night. Well, early hours of Sunday. After the party, at the Jacksons. You know, after I—’ I cast another quick look at Rex. ‘When everyone was having a drink at their house.’

‘Ah, yeah. They like a drink, that lot, eh?’ I watched him lift the cigarette to his mouth with paint-splashed hands. ‘Must have Irish blood.’

‘God, I’d kill for one of those.’

‘Help yourself.’ He offered the packet.

My eyes shifted to the car again – Rex, still chatting, admiring his reflection in the visor’s mirror. ‘No, you’re all right, ta.’

‘So is your stepdaughter OK?’

‘Ceci? Yeah, think so. Bit shocked. She’s at her mum’s. The thing is – they’re – they were really good mates too.’