Shay laughed, a sharp bark.

“Is he treating Ma OK?”

Shay said, “That’s none of your fucking business.”

The other three held their breath and waited to see if we were going to go for each other. When I was twelve Shay split my head open on those same steps; I still have the scar. Not long afterwards, I got bigger than him. He’s got scars too.

I turned round, taking my time, to face him. “I’m asking you a civil question,” I said.

“That you haven’t bothered asking in twenty years.”

“He’s asked me,” Jackie said, quietly. “Loads of times.”

“So? You don’t live here either, any more. You’ve no more of a clue than he has.”

“That’s why I’m asking you now,” I said. “Does Da treat Ma all right these days?”

We stared each other out of it, in the half dark. I got ready to throw my smoke away fast.

“If I say no,” Shay said, “are you going to leave your fancy bachelor pad and move in here to look after her?”

“Downstairs from you? Ah, Shay. D’you miss me that much?”

A window shot up, above us, and Ma shouted down, “Francis! Kevin! Are yous coming in or not?”

“In a minute!” we all yelled back. Jackie laughed, a high, frantic little sound: “Listen to us…”

Ma slammed the window down. After a second Shay eased back and spat through the railings. The moment his eyes moved off me, everyone relaxed.

“I’ve to go anyway,” Carmel said. “Ashley likes to have her mammy there when she goes to bed. She won’t go for Trevor; gives him terrible hassle. She thinks it’s funny.”

Kevin asked, “How are you getting home?”

“I’ve the Kia parked round the corner. The Kia’s mine,” she explained, to me. “Trevor has the Range Rover.”

Trevor always was a depressing little fucker. It was nice to know he’d turned out according to spec. “That’s lovely,” I said.

“Give us a lift?” Jackie asked. “I came straight from work, and today was Gav’s turn for the car.”

Carmel tucked in her chin and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Will he not pick you up?”

“Not at all. The car’s at home by now, and he’s in the pub with the lads.”

Carmel hauled herself up by the railing and tugged her skirt down primly. “I’ll drop you home, so. Tell that Gavin, if he’s going to let you work, he could at least buy you a car of your own to get you there. What are yous lot laughing at?”

“Women’s lib is alive and well,” I said.

“I never had any use for that carry-on. I like a good sturdy bra. You, missus, stop laughing and come on before I leave you here with this shower.”

“I’m coming, hang on-” Jackie stuffed her smokes back into her bag, threw the strap over her shoulder. “I’ll call round tomorrow. Will I see you then, Francis?”

“You never know your luck. Otherwise we’ll talk.”

She reached up a hand and caught mine, squeezed it tight. “I’m glad I rang you, anyway,” she said, in a defiant, semiprivate undertone. “And I’m glad you came down. You’re a gem, so you are. Look after yourself. All right?”

“You’re a good girl yourself. Seeya, Jackie.”

Carmel said, hovering, “Francis, will we…? Are you going to call round again, like? Now that…”

“Let’s get this thing over with,” I said, smiling up at her. “Then we’ll see where we are, yeah?”

Carmel picked her way down the steps and the three of us watched them head up the Place, the taps of Jackie’s spike heels echoing off the houses, Carmel clumping along next to her, trying to keep up. Jackie is a lot taller than Carmel, even before you add hair and heels, but on the other hand Carmel has her beat several times over on circumference. The mismatch made them look like some goofy cartoon team, off to have painful comic accidents till they finally caught the villain and saved the day.

“They’re sound women,” I said quietly.

“Yeah,” Kevin said. “They are.”

Shay said, “If you want to do those two a favor, you won’t call round again.”

I figured he was probably right, but I ignored him anyway. Ma did her window number again: “Francis! Kevin! I’ve to lock this door. Yous can come in now, or yous can sleep where yous are.”

“Go in,” Shay said. “Before she has the whole road awake.”

Kevin got up, stretching and cracking his neck. “Are you coming?”

“Nah,” Shay said. “Having another smoke.” When I shut the hall door, he was still sitting on the steps with his back to us, snapping his lighter and watching the flame.

Ma had dumped a duvet, two pillows and a bunch of sheets on the sofa and gone to bed, to make a point about us dawdling outside. She and Da had moved into our old room; the girls’ room had been turned into a bathroom, in the eighties, judging by the attractive avocado-green fixtures. While Kevin was splashing around in there, I went out onto the landing-Ma hears like a bat-and rang Olivia.

It was well after eleven. “She’s asleep,” Olivia said. “And very disappointed.”

“I know. I just wanted to say thanks again, and sorry again. Did I completely wreck your date?”

“Yes. What did you think would happen? The Coterie would bring out an extra chair and Holly could discuss the Booker Prize list with us over salmon en croute?”

“I’ve got some stuff to do around here tomorrow, but I’ll try and pick her up before dinnertime. Maybe you and Dermot can reschedule.”

She sighed. “What’s going on there? Is everyone OK?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I said. “I’m still trying to figure it out. Tomorrow I should have a better idea.”

A silence. I thought Liv was pissed off with me for being cagey, but then she said, “What about you, Frank? Are you all right?”

Her voice had softened. In all the world, the last thing I needed that night was Olivia being nice to me. It rippled my bones like water, soothing and treacherous. “Never better,” I said. “Gotta go. Give Holly a kiss from me in the morning. I’ll ring you tomorrow.”

Kevin and I made up the sofa bed and arranged ourselves head to foot, so we could feel like two party animals crashing out after a wild night instead of two little kids sharing a mattress. We lay there, in the faint patterns of light coming through the lace curtains, listening to each other breathe. In the corner, Ma’s Sacred Heart statue glowed lurid red. I pictured the look on Olivia’s face if she ever saw that statue.

“It’s good to see you,” Kevin said quietly, after a while. “You know that?”

His face was in shadows; all I could see was his hands on the duvet, one thumb rubbing absently at a knuckle. “You too,” I said. “You’re looking good. I can’t believe you’re bigger than me.”

A sniff of a laugh. “Still wouldn’t want to take you on.”

I laughed too. “Dead right. I’m an expert at unarmed combat, these days.”

“Seriously?”

“Nah. I’m an expert at paperwork and getting myself out of trouble.”

Kevin rolled onto his side, so he could see me, and tucked an arm under his head. “Can I ask you something? Why the Guards?”

Cops like me are the reason why you never get posted where you’re from. If you want to get technical, everyone I grew up with was probably a petty criminal, one way or another, not out of badness but because that was how people got by. Half the Place was on the dole and all of them did nixers, specially when the beginning of the school year was coming up and the kids needed books and uniforms. When Kevin and Jackie had bronchitis one winter, Carmel brought home meat from the Dunne’s where she worked, to build up their strength; no one ever asked how she paid for it. By the time I was seven, I knew how to fiddle the gas meter so my ma could cook dinner. Your average career counselor would not have pegged me for an officer in the making. “It sounded exciting,” I said. “Simple as that. Getting paid for the chance of some action; what’s not to like?”

“Is it? Exciting?”

“Sometimes.”

Kevin watched me, waiting. “Da threw a freaker,” he said eventually. “When Jackie told us.”