‘Yeah. Daisy said her auntie was coming to stay at theirs.’ Niall burrowed behind Grady, snatched the remote and switched the TV back on.

The sound of feet running down the stairs was followed by Mac giving a low whistle, no doubt a discreet attempt to get Grady’s attention.

Niall barely looked up anyway. ‘Is that Dad home?’ He looked more interested in the Christmas ad for Xbox that had flicked onto the screen than the comings and goings of a mere parent.

Grady gave Niall’s hair a parting ruffle. ‘Yep. And now we’re going out again. See you.’

Mac waited in the hallway, one hand on the front door handle. He held two woollen beanie hats and tossed one to Grady before they stepped back out into the freezing cold, pulling up their collars. ‘Brr,’ said Grady, the warmth gained from his brief sojourn by the fire instantly dispelled. It was snowing harder now, making the nearby cottages look as if they were slowly being coated in icing sugar. They hunched their shoulders and strode down Port Road, where red and green Christmas lights decorated the lampposts. It was a two-minute walk to Grady’s house, Mistletoe Cottage on the corner of Ladies Lane. On the drive stood his double-cab pick-up, the words “Grady Auto Art” airbrushed on the bonnet in swirling black, blue and purple that popped from the scarlet paintwork even through the powdering of snow. Grady dragged out his keys and soon they were rumbling out of the village, all the heaters on, including those in the seats.

Grady brought up what neither of them had so far said. ‘So, Laurel Hill’s back in the village?’

Mac grunted, gazing out through the passenger window, though there was little to see but the snow settling on the village they’d both grown up in, lights shining cosily from behind drawn curtains.

Grady swung the truck out of Ladies Lane and left into Main Road, heading towards Bettsbrough past hawthorn hedges and dank ditches, snow flurrying in the headlights. He thought back to teenage Laurel: dark red hair streaming down her back, her laugh, her weird home life of being looked after by a sister not much older than herself.