‘What are you doing here? You said you’d give me notice if you ever paid a visit …’

‘It’s right there, look. The blue one.’

‘I’m not coming, Mal.’

‘You are.’ He’d twisted at the fabric. ‘We’ve got things to talk about.’

‘My brother’s here. I’m meant to meet him.’

‘No, you aren’t. He’s gone off to the library.’

She’d stopped. ‘Have you been following me round?’

‘Pipe down. I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised about it.’ He’d steered her to the car, opened the door for her. ‘Get in.’

‘No.’

‘Well, we can have the conversation in the open, if you want. But I don’t think it’s wise to be cavorting with the likes of me in plain view of the world now, is it? Seeing as you’re on probation.’

There’d been a mess inside the car: balls of old chip papers on the seats and empty bottles cloudy with the residue of milk. The upholstery was ripped, the ceiling tarred and kippered by the owner’s smoking. She’d made the big mistake of saying, ‘Below your normal standards, this one.’

‘Do yourself a favour, Joy,’ he’d said, ‘and shut your fucking trap.’

They’d driven all the way down Kingston Avenue until it turned to fields and hedges on both sides. He’d pulled into a shaded spot where there was no kerb, just a patch of stones and grass. In the quiet after he’d shut off the engine, she’d been able to make out the bleating of the sheep. He’d told her, ‘I’m in twenty different kinds of trouble. You don’t even realize the mess you and your brother got me into. I’ve been scrambling round just trying to keep folk satisfied since you were put away. So now it’s time you paid me back.’

‘I never got you into anything.’

‘A lot was riding on that job. You ballsed it up. And more besides.’

‘I did exactly what you told me to.’

‘I don’t remember telling you to get arrested.’

‘Mal, the coppers pulled us over. They knew it wasn’t mine.’

‘You should’ve driven slower.’

‘I never went above the limit for a second.’

‘So you say. Five hundred quid you cost me. I was counting on that money.’

‘At least I never grassed you up. I could’ve too.’

‘You think that makes up for the grief you’ve caused me? Get your head out of your arse.’ He’d twisted in his seat. Up close, the drying pimples by his mouth seemed more like coldsores. There was no part of his skin that didn’t have a sheen of grease. ‘If you ever want us to be square, you need to listen to me now. This can’t go in one ear and out the other. No pissing about. You’ll do exactly what I tell you, otherwise I’ll have to make you do it. And I don’t care what it takes. You hearing me?’

‘Mal, come on.’ She’d tried to sweeten him. ‘I don’t know what you’re into, but it can’t be worth this aggravation.’