‘Ah, no. A one like her, I wouldn’t say she does spend much time on her own.’ The old lad on the barstool lets out an appreciative cackle. The barman says, ‘She was with a fella.’

That gets me another Ha! look from Steve. ‘Do you remember what he looked like?’

‘I wasn’t concentrating on him, if you know what I mean. He was older than her, I remember that; forties, maybe fifty. Nothing special: not fat or skinny, or nothing. Tallish, maybe. He had all his hair, anyway, fair play to him.’

Which fits well enough with the guy climbing Aislinn’s wall. I think it before I can help it: fits the guy hanging around at the top of my road, too.

Steve says, ‘Would you recognise him if you saw him again?’

The barman shrugs. ‘I might or I might not. I won’t promise yous anything.’

I ask, ‘Would you say he was her fella? Any holding hands, any kissing? Or could he have been just a friend, an uncle, something like that?’

The barman makes a face and wavers his head. ‘Could’ve gone either way. No canoodling, nothing like that, but I remember thinking they were sitting awful close if they weren’t a couple. And that she could’ve done better for herself.’

‘Like you, wha’?’ the old lad wants to know.

‘What’s wrong with me? I’ve still got my figure.’

‘Maybe he was a millionaire,’ Steve says. ‘Did he look flush?’

‘Not that I noticed. Like I said: nothing special.’

‘What would a millionaire be doing in a kip like this?’ the old lad demands.

‘Looking for a proper pint,’ the barman says with dignity.

‘If he’d’ve found one, he’d’ve come back.’

‘Has he been?’ Steve asks.

‘No. Only saw either of them the once.’

I say, ‘What about me? Have I been in before?’

The barman narrows his eyes up at me and grins. ‘You have, yeah. Summer before last, was it? With a load of other ones and fellas, sitting over in that corner, having a laugh?’

‘Fair play,’ I say. I stand out a lot more than Aislinn, but it’s been longer since I was in. The barman isn’t talking shite to make us happy; he remembers her.

‘What do I win?’

‘Read that, and if it’s all correct, sign at the bottom,’ I say, holding out my notebook. ‘If you’re lucky, you win the chance to come into the station and tell us the same thing on tape.’

The old lad is craning his neck to get a look at Aislinn’s photo. He says, ‘Is she in hassle, yeah? She after doing something on someone?’