‘Careful how?’ I ask, suddenly worried.

‘We’ve been advised to take down our social media accounts. Just in case.’

‘What, why?’

‘Because things are different over there, Grace. If you think money talks over here, you wait until you see China. You don’t just let people go from their jobs and expect nothing to happen. I’m just trying to protect you, that’s all.’

And that’s when it sinks in. ‘Me? What do you mean protect me? I haven’t done anything.’

Tom sighs. ‘This is how their minds work. The risk is probably low, but I don’t want to take any chances. I don’t want them harassing you or causing you any issues.’

‘Why would they?’ I ask.

Tom sighs again. ‘Look, they’re not just being let go because they’re useless. They’re dodgy people. They can’t be trusted. We’ve found out some things about them which should have been done on the background checks, but weren’t. Because of what we do, providing security systems, we can’t have people like that on the team. It’s far too risky. It could be the end of our company. They’re being let go while I’m over here,’ he says, looking at his watch. ‘Probably about now, actually. We know they have links to organised crime, but we don’t know how deep or far those links go, and I don’t think it’s worth risking anything for the sake of a social media account, do you?’

I look at Tom’s face. He seems genuinely worried and concerned — and slightly guilty for having to inconvenience me. It’s not his fault if the company messed up, or they’ve got to let people go because they’re linked to criminals.

‘No, no I guess not,’ I say. ‘What’s got to go? Facebook?’

‘Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, the lot. Take them offline for now, as that’s just easiest. I’ll have a bit more of a look into it when things calm down. I think we can change names and things like that, which might be a better idea in the long run.’

‘I’ll try,’ I say. ‘But you might have to help me.’

‘Yeah, of course. No problem. And look, I’m sorry. I know it’s a pain in the arse. You know I’m just trying to keep you safe, don’t you?’

I look at him and smile.

‘Yeah. I know.’

19

Sunday 29 December

One of the downsides about that weird bit in between Christmas and New Year is that no-one is ever quite sure what day it is. There’s definitely one huge benefit, though: lie-ins. Until this morning, that is.

I must have been sleeping pretty lightly, because I’m woken by my phone vibrating on the bedside table as a text arrives. Bleary-eyed, I look at the screen. It’s Dad.

I swipe to unlock my phone and read the message properly, although I’ve already got a fairly decent idea.

Dad doesn’t usually text — he phones. If he’s taken the time to tap out a text message one letter at a time, it’s obviously something he wants to have some space to think over, without jumping to a reaction and saying something he’ll regret. Most likely, Mum’s there with him, helping him compose a reply between the two of them — something they wouldn’t be able to do on a phone call or face-to-face.