Chapters (88)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dear Reader …
- Also by Robert Muchamore
- PART ONE
- Walter J Freeman Adolescent Mental Health Unit – East Grinstead, UK
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- PART TWO
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART THREE
- Walter J. Freeman Adolescent Mental Health Unit – East Grinstead, UK
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- PART FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- EPILOGUE
- Discover more books and sign up to the Robert Muchamore mailing list at muchamore.com
- Have you read KILLER T?
- 1 SLASHED RUBBER
- 2 NOT HARRY POTTER
‘See you at my place,’ Matt told Julius as he walked out of their shared room with a small backpack and a roll bag crammed with dirty laundry.
A yellow chopper set the panes in Julius’s bedroom window rattling as it took off with a billionaire’s daughter aboard. Then he peered down at teens wheeling their luggage down the disabled ramp in front of Brushwood House.
Boys hugged parents, pretend-throttled little brothers and threw baby sisters in the air. Other interactions were more awkward. A dead-eyed scowl at an unloved stepfather in a Barbour jacket, a burly lad leaving his luggage to a pissed-off au pair and a young couple’s parting snog, viewed by embarrassed parents.
But good or bad, they all had someone.
‘You need to shift, fella,’ a woman in a cleaner’s smock snapped at Julius. ‘We’re stripping beds on this floor.’
Her meanness wilted when Julius glanced around, looking tearful.
‘Just leaving, miss,’ he said, tugging his wheelie bag off the bed and thinking about the ninety-minute taxi ride with an empty house at the end of it.
FORTY-FOUR
The townhouse was in one of the prestigious garden squares behind Chelsea’s King’s Road. Four floors, nine bedrooms and an underground extension with cinema, gym and four-car garage.
Julius shared the home with Polish housekeeper Milena and two of SJ’s parents-in-law, who were in town for their thirtieth wedding anniversary.
It wasn’t good company. Milena listened intently when Julius tried to make conversation, but her only response was to squawk yes, before wandering off, having clearly not understood a word. The middle-aged couple showed no interest in Julius beyond hellos in hallways. They’d leave home each morning in smart clothes, returning in a taxi stuffed with shopping bags, or late after the theatre.
Julius had come to think of the Chelsea house as a very fine prison. Days started early at Dormansland Hall, so he relished wallowing in the huge bed until noon. He’d spend at least an hour speaking to Duke about nothing and everything, then play Xbox or watch randomness on his laptop until hunger triumphed in its daily battle with sloth.
Julius could leave splashed tiles, balled socks and tangled bedding, knowing Milena would zoom in and straighten up when he left the house. Dirty clothes went to a nearby laundry, reappearing ironed and wrapped in pink tissue paper. He had to bury his ripped jeans and Nigerian army coat in a suitcase, because no amount of hand gestures and deliberately phrased English could convey to Milena that they were supposed to look scruffy.
A couple of times, Julius had taken a board over the river to Battersea Park. But rain had been lashing the windows all night, so he left the house at two on Wednesday, with his hoodie up and no plan, except to stay out because being home alone made him miserable.