Macdowall’s key wasn’t under the pot plant, as it had been when she last visited. She checked under the mat, and on the ledge above the door. She pushed the letterbox open and with her fingers separated the fibres of the brush strip. She could see the dining table under the window, which still had Derek McLaverty’s silver MacBook on it. Neither resident had returned home after the Edinburgh Book Festival. One was dead, one was in jail. Nothing had been moved since Mary was here; or so it seemed.

She found herself surveying the joint for a break-in – i.e., she looked at the locks on the front door. Two, that was all. Menopausal Mary had kicked the authors’ toilet cubicle with great aplomb – she was one of those women others admired, but no-one was reporting about that. It’d be Misandrist Mary who’d send this door flying because right now Mary couldn’t think of one good reason not to hate men.

The pen drive was sizzling. She needed to sit down.

Mary was in Pollok Park now, but it’d taken a while to get there. She’d staggered from Liam Macdowall’s doormat, down the stairs, and run all the way along Pollokshaws Road to the park entrance. Once inside, she’d tossed the pen drive in a bin, which she regretted immediately, particularly when she realised it was a dog-poo bin, filled with badly tied black bags leaking wet turds. She put her head inside to retrieve it because she had to give it to the police, but a woman in heels and a small dress suddenly appeared from the dark green of a woodland walk. The woman’s blonde hair was dishevelled; her ankles at constant risk of breaking as her heels sunk into the muddy path.

‘Are you okay?’ Mary didn’t have her phone, but she could get across the road and dial 999 in ten seconds. Her first aid was out of date, but she’d give it a whirl. She had some cash in her pocket if that’s what was needed, and she knew a local taxi firm’s number by heart.

‘Me! Aye. Why?’

‘Just thought I should ask.’

The woman grimaced. ‘Should I ask you why you’re wearing a wig with dog shit on it?’

The question was fair enough.

When Mary examined her palm at the lights, she felt certain the pen drive had left a mark. She chose a new playlist: ‘Everything’s OK!’

Roddie would get out tomorrow.

Derek McLaverty would find a new woman to hate.

Jack would forgive her for all the things she’d done wrong.

She was light and fast all the way home. Thank God she’d come to her senses in time.

Planting abusive images on Derek McLaverty’s laptop! What was she thinking?

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