As I remember, the room was much the same as the year before, only this time with two single beds crammed in: boring flower-patterned wallpaper with the squashed fly still on a rose petal, a window looking out on the backyard, a pipe running down one wall that rattled and clanged every time anyone ran a tap or flushed the toilet, a chamber pot under each bed, and a bowl and jug you could fill with water for washing and brushing your teeth. The toilet and bathroom would have been down the hall, as usual, shared by everyone on the floor, use of hot water strictly regulated, dinner at six p.m. on the dot, or you were out of luck. It wasn’t the kind of place that encouraged one to stay indoors, no matter what the weather. You never lost sight of the fact that you were an interloper in someone’s home, tolerated out of necessity, perhaps, but never entirely welcome.

Maybe we went for a walk on the prom that first evening, or took one of the open trams along the front. We might have even ventured on the beach, removed our sandals, pulled our dresses up over our knees and gone for a wade. Perhaps we even shared a bag of cockles or winkles, digging out the poor creatures from their shells with pins, like little gobs of snot. Perhaps, though I doubt this happened so soon, we strolled the Golden Mile and played in the amusement arcades. Though I can’t remember what we did, I do remember the sense of excitement I always had at the start of a holiday, of new places to be discovered, new experiences, new adventures, new possibilities. The sea air was always intoxicating, always full of promise. This time, with my best friend Melanie by my side, I was sure it would be even more exciting than usual.

7

LENNY THORNTON WAS AS GOOD AS HIS WORD, AND he phoned Annie at a quarter past nine that evening to inform her that Sinead had come home. Annie then called Gerry, who picked her up in the Corsa, and they set off for Wytherton Heights for the second time that day. After talking to Lenny Thornton earlier they had visited the shopping mall but had drawn a blank. There were no young people around, and the store workers and security guards could tell them nothing except what a nuisance the kids were, and how they scared away legitimate customers. No, no one had ever seen young girls with older Pakistani men. Most of the Pakistanis shopped in the Asian market at the other end of the Strip.