Me and Steve glance at each other just once. Steve’s face is quick and wary, all the angles sharpened. He doesn’t have a handle on where this is going either, and he doesn’t like that any more than I do. We swap a tiny nod: Stay steady. Then we sit still, listening to the faint singing hiss of the radiators and the slow rasp of O’Kelly’s breathing, and we wait for McCann to come.

The knock at the door snaps the silence. ‘Come,’ O’Kelly says, turning his chair, and there’s McCann in the doorway, jacket sagging, eyes sunk deep.

Two beats – one look at the gaffer, one at us – and he understands. His shoulders shift and roll forward as he gets ready for the fight.

‘Moran,’ O’Kelly says. ‘Give McCann a chair.’

I stand up with Steve and we move to the side, against the wall. For a second it looks like McCann’s going to stay standing, but then he yanks Steve’s chair farther from us and sits down. Legs wide, feet braced, chin forward.

O’Kelly says, ‘You should have told me.’

A fast raw flush springs up on McCann’s cheekbones. He opens his mouth to spew out a flood of reasons, excuses, justifications, whatever. Then he shuts it again.

‘How long have I been your gaffer?’

After a moment McCann says, ‘Eleven years.’

‘Any complaints?’

McCann shakes his head.

‘Have I had your back, along the way? Or have I hung you out to dry when things got tough?’

‘Had my back. Always.’

O’Kelly nods. He says, ‘A civilian who’s fucked up, he tries to hide it from his boss. A D in trouble, he goes to his gaffer.’

McCann can’t look at him. The flush deepens. ‘I should’ve. Straightaway. I know that.’

O’Kelly waits.

‘Sorry.’

‘OK,’ the gaffer says. He gives McCann the curt nod that means You’re off the hook, don’t fuck up again. ‘We’re talking now, anyway. And I want to know what in holy hell has been going on here. These two’ – he jerks his chin at me and Steve – ‘they’re trying to tell me you went pussy-blind: Aislinn Murray was out to fuck you over, you were thinking with your mickey, the whole thing went to shite. Is that true? This whole five-star clusterfuck, it’s all because you weren’t getting enough blood flow to the brain?’

McCann’s jaw moves. He doesn’t like that.

‘Because I know you – or anyway I thought I did – and I say it’s bollix. These two have come up with some story they like, and they’re making everything they get fit the story.’