‘Well, he said to tell you that despite that, he’s OK. After what happened with Innocent, he reckons he deserves it.’

‘What did you tell him?’

‘The truth – that you were worried for him, and grateful for his help.’

Xander was right, obviously. Yet I was more than worried and grateful. For some reason I wanted Caleb’s forgiveness. And not just because we were about to expose his father.

Langdon drew the door back and stood framed in the opening. His face looked worse than it had the day before, but he’d been at a distance then, and it had been dark. His nose was swollen, his left cheek too, the eye above it a mean slit. An ugly brown-purple bruise down the left side of his face underscored everything. The sight of him made me wonder how truthful Caleb had been with Xander. I’d have been willing to bet Langdon had done worse than make his son dig holes. How else would he have punished him?

‘Welcome,’ Langdon said. With no apparent feeling at all he continued, ‘What a relief to see you.’

‘What on earth happened to you?’ Dad said.

Langdon narrowed his good eye in my direction. ‘Ask your son.’

‘Can we come in?’ Mum said gently.

‘Why not?’

Mum looked at him quizzically as he backed away from the door, then followed him into a large white kitchen. We all traipsed behind. The room smelled of disinfectant. Before we’d come to a stop, Amelia, who’d heard what Xander told me as we crossed the yard, said, ‘Where’s Caleb?’

Langdon snorted. ‘Where you last saw him. Making amends.’

He clearly wasn’t going to pretend to be surprised by Mum and Dad’s newfound freedom. A tumbler of whiskey sat on the countertop between us. He reached for it and took a sip, waiting for the accusation to come, I suppose.

‘What’s going on, Langdon?’ asked Mum, renewed steel in her voice.

‘You tell me.’

‘We’ve been locked away –’ she began.

‘I’ll tell you,’ I cut in, anger knotting in my chest. ‘We know you’re responsible for Mum and Dad’s disappearance. You had them kidnapped. Admit it.’

Langdon let out a slow breath, looked from me to Dad and said, ‘I think not.’

‘This is ridiculous,’ said Dad, without conviction.

‘Is it now?’ said Langdon. After a pause, he unleashed: ‘What’s ridiculous is the havoc this little twit of yours, together with his interfering friend, have caused in your absence. I hate to say I told you so.’

‘Told you what? Dad?’ I asked.

To me Dad replied, ‘I don’t know what he’s talking about.’

‘Yes, you do,’ Langdon laughed, taking another slug from his glass. ‘I said at the beginning, the safest thing to do would have been to lock them up too. It would only have been for a few days. What harm could it do?!’