‘Leave it there, I’m going to make a trifle this afternoon. Alannah liked my trifle last year. Remember?’
He doesn’t remember.
His brother struggles in with more bags. ‘Is that the last of it?’ his mother asks.
‘Yes,’ Patrick says. ‘Did you get my pies?’
‘I got your pies.’
Patrick starts unpacking the bags and handing things to Jake or his mother, depending on what it is. ‘You tell him about the cops coming on Monday?’
‘Yeah, you know what I did with that card? With the phone number on it?’ His mother inspects the label on a box of jelly.
‘You put it by the computer,’ Patrick says, handing Jake a packet of frozen pies for the freezer.
‘Of course!’ She disappears out of the room, wiping her hands over her hips as though they are wet but they are not.
Jake takes the card from her an
