He took her name and address and let them go. Mandy began weeping softly when they were out of the estate. Cushla looked in the rear-view mirror, expecting to see Betty comforting her, but she was looking out the window, her face slightly to the side. Davy was rummaging in his satchel. He took something out and dangled it in front of his father, a paper bag that rattled.

I got your tablets, Daddy. You’ll be able to sleep tonight.

Gina opened the front door as soon as Cushla pulled up. She led them to the kitchen, where she began buttering bread for sandwiches, making tea. Cushla got a bottle of Mr Reid’s orangeade from the larder and poured a glass each for Mandy and Davy, who were at the table. Seamie was sitting opposite them, his palms up, an oddly imploring gesture. Cushla pushed Gina’s cigarettes and lighter at him and went to see if the tea was ready. Betty was by the kettle, describing the moment the window broke and the bottle smashed on the hearth, sending flames splashing across the carpet and up the side of the settee, where Davy and Mandy were sitting. The silence before the attack and the cheers after. They’d had to tip Seamie’s chair back to haul him out of it and get him away from the fire. She said the police had come for Tommy at teatime.

Cushla remembered the woman lambasting them as they were trying to escape from the house. What about Tommy? she said.

He was lifted. They’re saying he shot that barrister.

Gina glanced up at Cushla, eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly. Cushla turned her back to them and took a knife to the sandwiches, hacking them into misshapen triangles. How could Tommy have killed Michael? He could not even have known him. She put the plate on the table and took a cigarette from her mother’s pack.

Why would they think Tommy had anything to do with it? said Gina.

I don’t know. They near battered down the door when I was putting out the dinner. Three of them went upstairs and hauled him from his room by the hair.

Mandy and Davy were looking at the sandwiches, making no move to take one.

Maybe we should get everyone to bed, said Cushla.