‘It made everybody’s lives a lot easier, and in many cases a lot longer. We took him to the quarry: me, Bill, Bob, your dad and McGill. He insisted on being there. Fannied about, milking the moment, until your dad ended it. Shot Jai through the head. But then we heard this scream, a woman’s scream. We looked up – it was this really warm, clear night – and saw these two people looking back down. Don’t know what they were doing there: shagging maybe. Their car was parked close to the edge of the quarry but we never noticed anything because the lights and the engine were off and because generally you just don’t look up.’

McDade gave another rueful sigh: another moment he couldn’t change.

They were heading out of Bishopbriggs now, on the road to Kirkintilloch.

‘They ran for their car because they knew we’d seen them, and started it up in a crazy hurry; engine over-revved and the wheels must have been spinning on the grass. We were panicking. Your dad fired a shot. I mean, fucking one-in-a-million shot. You could never repeat it if you tried for a month.’

He shook his head, his eyes on the darkness and the cat’s-eyes ahead.

‘Must have blown out a tyre at just the right moment – or just the wrong moment. The car slewed to one side, got yanked like it was on a rope, and went over the edge. Hit the ground bonnet first, flush-on. Neither of them were wearing seat belts; probably never had time. They were both dead by the time we had run over to the car. Came straight through the windscreen, the pair of them, on to solid stone. Never had an earthly. We’re standing there in a daze, not knowing whether to be appalled or relieved, and that’s when we heard it: the wean, greetin’.’

‘How did he survive?’ asked Jasmine.

‘Carrycot was wedged in that tight, and the wean was swaddled up in a ton of blankets. He was fine.’

‘Apart from having just been orphaned,’ she observed.

‘Aye, well,’ said McDade grimly. ‘There was nothing we could do about that. Or rather, there was. We could make sure he would be looked after, given to a good home.’

‘And you looked out for him ever after.’

‘Always. Always. A lot changed that night. You cannae just walk away from a thing like that. Well, some folk can,’ he added, casting a resentful glance at Fallan. It took a moment for Jasmine to deduce that McDade wasn’t alluding to Glen himself, but to his father.

‘What happened to the car?’ Fallan asked, presumably with a professional eye for such detail.

‘McGill got it towed away and scrapped. Or more likely salvaged for the back half of a ringer. He’s another one that wasnae exactly chastened by the event.’