Rob and his mother sit in silence in her kitchen. His feet are still bleeding and he can feel bits of glass in his skin. He should go for a shower, but instead he lights another cigarette. He's still reeling from Clare's words about Peter and Jamie. Can it be true, that they weren't really his friends, that they're not worth suffering for? Can he be free? Maybe Cassie is the only friend he's ever really had. Was the only friend, he corrects himself.

"And why has Cassie fallen out with you?" says Clare. He looks up, startled, at her apparent mind-reading.

He shrugs. "Why do you think?" he says, trying to sound uncaring. "I screwed her, in every sense."

Clare sighs. "Adam — Rob, then," she says angrily, as he opens his mouth.

"Clare. I'm a disaster. Cassie is better off out of it."

"Cassie loves you," she says simply, surprising him again. "A mother can tell these things."

"Well, she hates me now," says Rob, uncomfortable with this emotional talk. He would rather go into detail about his sexual exploits with Heather than talk about his feelings right now. He takes another drag on the cigarette.

"Just talk to her," says Clare. "Whatever you've done, she'll forgive you. Just be honest."

"I can't talk to her now," he says, remembering the message he left on her phone, lying uselessly in her bedroom. "She's undercover. I don't know how long for."

Clare nods. She gets up, looking at his filthy feet. "I'll run you a bath."