This is the part where I should probably feel bad: my callousness turning poor Aislinn’s story down the path towards tragedy, blah blah blah. Yesterday, I would have felt fuck-all. Like I said to Steve: if she wanted to hook her life onto some guy who wasn’t even around, that was her problem. But today, I don’t know what it is. All of a sudden it feels like there were so many people nudging Aislinn from every direction: me, Gary, her ma, her da, on and on, all those fingers poking, shoulders barging, everyone shoving her life whatever way happened to suit them. It makes my skin leap like flies are covering it. And finally someone didn’t bother nudging: her life didn’t suit him, and he punched it right out.

Lucy says, ‘I was scared she’d go back to just drifting along, you know? That this had been her one chance at actually getting hold of her life, and now it had been smashed like that, she’d never give it another go. So I said, like a fucking idiot, I said, “Maybe someone who worked on the case could tell you what happened to him.” I was only trying to make Ash feel better. I just wanted to give her something to go after.’

That appeal is back in her eyes. ‘Sounds right to me,’ I say. ‘That’s probably exactly what I would’ve said.’

‘I should’ve kept my stupid mouth shut. But at the time, I actually thought I’d done the perfect thing. Aislinn stopped crying, just like that, and dived for her phone. I went, “What?” and she said I’d just reminded her of something the Missing Persons guy had said. He’d mentioned the names of the detectives who were in charge of the case, when her dad first went missing. Detective Feeney and Detective McCann.’

Hearing the name in her voice touches the back of my neck, one icy drop. I say, ‘And?’