As she approached her car, she saw a gaunt backside protruding from the passenger window. It was Slattery. She began to walk faster, and he looked up at the sound of her heels.

Father? she said.

Miss Lavery. I was just talking to our young friend here.

Right, well, I need to get him home, she said. She got into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. Davy, close your window, quick.

He wants me to go to him for private catechism. Do I have to? he said, as she pulled out.

No. You certainly do not, she said, handing him the comic. She checked the rear-view mirror. Slattery was standing on the pavement, watching her drive away.

I don’t even know what catechism is, he said.

Neither do I, and it hasn’t done me any harm, she said. Is there anything good in that comic?

Dennis’s da brought him to a museum. Gnasher is pulling apart a suit of armour because he wants to chew the slipper. Only it’s not a slipper, he said.

He flipped through the pages absently all the way up the road. At his house, he rolled it up and carried it under his arm, as if it was the evening paper.

Tommy answered the front door, in jeans and a red T-shirt. He held a hand up at her briefly in greeting. He should have been at school.

Mr Reid’s camellia had begun to shed soggy petals on to the Laverys’ driveway, emphasising the grimness of their garden. We should do something out the front, she told Gina in the kitchen, laying her purchases on the kitchen table. Grow flowers. Do some weeding.

Nobody’s stopping you, said Gina, pulling Cosmopolitan towards her. She read the headlines aloud: ARE YOU A LOVE ADDICT? (QUIZ). HOW TO STOP STIFLING YOUR FEELINGS AND BECOME A TRULY SEXUAL WOMAN. MAKE YOUR BOSS YOUR GREATEST ALLY AND GET HIM TO PROMOTE YOU. Mother of God, she said.

Davy had looked so small and fearful in the car, worrying at the strap of his bag. What did Slattery mean by private catechism? There was no point in telling Bradley; she would have to make sure the priest didn’t take the child from class. She opened the local paper. A woman in Ballyholme had lost four and a half stone by giving up potato bread. The Catholic church in Sydenham had been damaged in another arson attack. The maypole was due a facelift. Opposite her, Gina tutted sometimes. She lit a cigarette and shoved the magazine in front of Cushla. Awful smut to be buying, she said.