‘Nine, twelve. Down another two,’ Mary said.

‘That’s the crazy eating the calories.’

‘I think it is the crazy.’

‘Made the GP appointment yet?’

If Mary ever had the misfortune of being social worked, she would want to be social worked by Lil. ‘I will.’

‘You promise?’ Lil held out her pinkie.

Mary promised.

Five to nine. She typed and printed the formal warning, located and copied the items she needed for the session and Googled Derek McLaverty’s latest movements. It seemed to Mary that Derek was Liam’s significant other, and that she would have to find a way to work with him or she would fail.

In the last twenty-four hours, Derek had been very active on his public Facebook page:

‘MEN:
Do not be sorry for being a man
There is no guilt in being born male.
They are telling us otherwise but we must not apologise.’

Mary scrolled down Derek’s timeline:

‘I’ve been told extreme views are okay because they have to make up for past injustices. Present and future injustice is as wrong as past. Possibly more as it is so consciously done.’

In the last week, Derek McLaverty had been to HMP Lowfield; then to see his lawyer about Nel, twenty-two, freshly qualified and – at this moment – hyperventilating at her Pod-2 desk.

According to Nel’s profile notes, Derek had failed to attend supervised contact seven times in a row, upsetting and unsettling his wee boys week after week. Nel was about to give up on pursuing Derek for contact, focusing instead on the safety of mother and sons. In the most recent case note, Nel requested the case be transferred due to verbal abuse.

She had also placed a red flag against Derek’s name.

Derek’s online commentary in relation to Nel was all about inexperience and appearance. Poor Nel. ‘I refuse to have that slag watch me play with my kids,’ he blogged. ‘What does she know about parenting?’

Mary raced over to Nel’s desk and started a conversation, socialwork-style: ‘Derek McLaverty.’

It was all she needed to say; the name inspired terror. ‘Isn’t he inside?’

Mary had ruined the girl’s day, as he was not inside, not at the moment anyway.

‘I can’t chat,’ said Nel. ‘Got a hearing. But watch the guy. Smallman syndrome.’

‘Or just bad-man syndrome?’

‘Bit of both. The guy who’s always getting chucked, y’know? The guy scratching his eczema and yelling at girls online from his smelly bedroom. He’s back living with his parents in the Mearns now, ha! With his mummy and daddy, and I’m not sure they like him much either. Watch out for him. He hates social workers so much. I’m ruining his life, see. Me and Pam. One more incident and we’ll be denying him all contact. He won’t see his kids again.’

‘No?’

‘I’ll send you some incident reports.’