Mary ignored her. ‘Are you gonna wear one of these t-shirts, Jack?’ She was holding the garment with great anger. ‘Okay, then, put it on.’

Jack took the t-shirt from her and put it on the basin. ‘If you want to know, this bullshit is making me think about things. Like the way you talk to Dad. The way you talk about his work. He is so talented, he’s worked so hard for so many years to get where he is, and you call him a colour-in-er-er.’

She was getting hot, but this might not be due to menopause. ‘You think I’m abusive?’

Jack took too long to answer. ‘All I’m saying is that Liam is worth listening to. That’s what I’m doing. Maybe you should try it.’

He’d been brainwashed already. ‘Never, ever go near my boy again,’ she said to Holly, before making her way to the door.

The traffic lights were against her all the way. Right now, she was stuck behind a black Range Rover, which was also indicating right. Their blinkers were in sync – tick, tick, tick, tick, tick – and Mary found herself tapping to the rhythm on the steering wheel.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

‘Hey there Roddie boy.’ She tapped a finger per syllable. ‘Am I a-bu-sive? Am I the arsehole?’

She had called him a colour-in-er-er, after all.

She had made comments about his appearance.

And she had hit him.

The lights changed, and she was relieved when the tick, tick, ticking stopped.

Had hit him! Pffft. A girly lash-out, maybe, a desperate chest-pounding during a desperate time, like when Mary wanted to take over the childcare thing but couldn’t because Roddie despised law, and would have hated taking over the money-earning thing. She stopped at the side of the road to get her breath back, but unfortunately could hear what Jack might say, which is exactly what she would say to a client: ‘You do realise a girly lash-out is a punch, right? That a chest-pounding is assault?’

Yeah but – size matters, she told herself, and so does fear. Roddie has never been scared.

‘Yeah, but.’ She sighed – she had heard men say this so many times.

Yeah, but there was no time for this. She had a dangerous criminal to breach.

11

After talking most of it through with Catherine, Mary cleared a few hours. She could do the court reports from home tonight. It was the sheriff and the defence lawyers who wanted them a day before session. The sheriffs never read them anyhow, and the lawyers were dicks. Lil offered to see her other punters, bless her.