Nevis sits with her hands in her lap. A moth flutters dully in her chest. She can see Tash is upset, obviously, but if this were a mathematical formula, it would not have the requisite Boolean constants. There is too much conditionality. What is she supposed to say? The Dean comes to mind, or rather, the remembrance of his hand, the hairs on the wrist, the delicate nail beds, the tips of his fingers sitting on her flesh. What if the Dean made a move? She’d say yes wouldn’t she?

Nevis takes a couple of gulps of Guinness, buying time, and wipes the back of her hand across her face. Tash is sitting up straight now, no longer tearful but with some dark energy that Nevis cannot interpret.

‘I’m not going quietly. I’m going to tell everything.’

‘About the affair?’

She fixes Nevis a penetrating stare. She seems oddly calm, as though a tap has been turned off in her head. ‘No, dummy, I mean about everything that’s been going on.’ Clasping her arms around herself and rocking on her heels, Tash opens her lips to say more, then thinking better of it, retreats, her eyes glassing over, lips tight.

A young couple sweeps by laughing, and on the next table a man delivers the punchline to a joke. More laughter. Nevis is conscious that something important has just been said but she is not sure what or why. Tash is looking at her, head tilted to one side, like a wary bird. They sit there like this for a few moments, before Tash pipes up: ‘You don’t know, do you? You still haven’t clocked it.’

‘You could tell me?’

Tash shakes her head. ‘Like I said before, it’s best you don’t. You’re not like us, Nevis. You’re good, or not good, exactly, maybe just innocent. I don’t think you’d understand. In any case, there’s nothing to say. Mark got bored of Jess and started up with me.’ Her face is filmy and unreachable.

Mark Ratner with Jessica and with Tash? The thought of it makes Nevis’s stomach turn twice. Ratty Ratner the love rat. How could Tash love a man like that?

Tash picks at another nail. She is sitting back now, with her eyes closed, tears running down her cheeks. ‘I’m scared, Nevis.’

‘Of Mark Ratner?’

‘No, idiot. I’m scared of ending up like Jessica.’

Chapter 35

Cullen

Cullen plugs in the entry code and lets himself into the nursing home. A blast of warm, stale air hits him. As he moves through the hallway the stench of lilies on the turn hits his nostrils. Maura comes out of the office and greets him with a worried smile.

‘I’m sorry to have to call you so late.’

‘I’m glad you did,’ he says. After what Veronica has just told him, he means this in more ways than Maura will know.