She felt physically ill. ‘But I would have known on Monday morning when I’d lost the Saturday takings! Oh, Ryan. I can’t believe you could even have thought about doing it.’

‘I was in a bad place. I was desperate. They said I had to tell them and it was a test. After that, they said they might leave me alone. They said, if I didn’t do it, they would come round to the unit and take the money themselves. They said they might even go in when you were there one evening and that they couldn’t guarantee you wouldn’t get hurt, you being a feisty sort … So I thought I’d better steal the money myself, only I didn’t get far, did I, because Gabe found out.’

With a cry of shock, Sam rushed into the kitchen and locked herself in the cloakroom. She had to hold onto the basin because she was actually shaking. She might even be sick. A tearful, pale face stared at her from the mirror, mascara smudged under her eyes.

‘Sam!’ Gabe called through the door.

She splashed cold water on her face and opened the door to find his expression full of concern. ‘Are you OK?’

She laughed at him. ‘Of course I’m not bloody OK. I’ve just heard my own brother planned on robbing me.’

‘It’s terrible, I know, but Ryan didn’t actually go through with taking your money. He was trying to protect you, in his own deluded way,’ said Gabe.

‘Only because you went to the police.’

‘I had to. How could I not?’

‘I know why you did it now but …’ She pushed him away. ‘Why have you helped him since? How could you?’

‘Because everyone deserves a second chance. Because I knew you loved him really. Because, as Ryan pointed out to me the other night, I love you.’

Ryan appeared in the kitchen doorway. ‘Don’t blame Gabe for anything. I begged Gabe not to tell you and Zennor what might have happened and he didn’t. We were arrested while we were robbing the arcade and no one ever knew what else we were planning.’

She wiped her eyes with a wad of tissues.

‘How many times can I say I’m sorry?’ said Ryan. ‘It’ll never be enough. I’m glad Gabe went to the police. I hated him for a while afterwards, but nowhere near as much as I hated myself. After I came out of prison, I slept rough for a couple of years and lived hand to mouth.’

‘You could have come back to us,’ she said. ‘I offered to help. You cutting yourself off from us made things worse.’ But that was before she’d known the full story, she thought. Would she have felt differently if she had known he was going to steal from his own family?