I'd been through it enough times. My ma was too far away to come in and I didn't give them Carmel's number. She was always giving out about me to my ma, and she'd be delighted to see me in here. But they weren't allowed to interview me without an adult there so they had to bring in a social worker. That took a bit of time to organize so they stuck me in a cell for an hour or two. I caught up on a bit more sleep, or at least, I tried to. Garda stations aren't the quietest places in the world. When the social worker arrived her hair was all over the place like she had been out on her bike on a windy day. It didn't bother me. I'd seen this one before. She was often up around our flats. She would do fine. There were two guards in the interview room. One of them I knew from another time when I was picked up. He sat through a long interview with me once when my ma was there. I never said a word the whole time. I knew what he thought of me but it was no harm that he knew my history. It might even help me with my plan.
