The first piece of evidence was the email she sent to the Procurator Fiscal. Rather than applying the twenty-four-hour calm-yourself rule, she had pressed ‘send’ as angrily as each of the letters preceding it, and now realised this could jeopardise Roddie’s defence.

I should have sent this to you first – oops, Mary messaged Adeela, a mutual pal from uni and a hot-shot defence lawyer.

OMG Mary, Adeela replied. Write to no-one, speak to no-one. Stay home till after court on Monday – two more sleeps. Don’t even talk to Jack. Talk to NO-ONE.

The second piece of evidence of mental incapacity was that Mary was having auditory hallucinations. Since arriving home from the police station she’d been hearing an orchestra that simply could not be real. She could hear it very clearly with the shutters closed, with all the appliances off, sitting cross-legged, in the hallway. The shutters didn’t block out all the never-ending evening sun, and pincers danced on the floor around Mary to the orchestra that was definitely playing.

Madness, of course, that an orchestra was playing, but Mary could hear bagpipes, and drums, as well as track-laughter that seemed to ridicule the ruined pieces of her, one of which she held in her hand.

Roddie might be writing her a letter in B hall now, in which she’s the abuser. For example: Dear Mary, Derek suggested I record a memory. This is my memory of the most recent time. You are standing in the kitchen smashing glasses. Your eyes are dim. I can’t find you in them. ‘Fuck you all!’ You smash another, and a piece of glass hits my shin.

The pipe band passed by – it was a pipe band! Not madness. The 12th July was approaching, and the Orange Order was already flexing its muscles in this largely Asian neighbourhood. Mary wondered if racist Simon Gallacher would be drumming along.

She wasn’t hallucinating. It was a pipe band.

And the laughter was coming from downstairs. Nora in 1/1 must be having a dinner party. Mary didn’t get invited after the fourth time, because she hated cooking and didn’t reciprocate. She suggested paying for a takeaway, but this was offensive to Nora. There were all sorts of rules. Shame, Nora made great lamb.

Mary dragged herself to the bathroom. Adeela was right, she should stay inside until court on Monday – two sleeps. She shouldn’t talk to Jack, should not leave the flat. She opened her mouth for the first time since being questioned at the station and beheld the one big problem with this plan.

Her tooth.