‘I’m sorry,’ said Jane. ‘Is it difficult for you to talk about?’

‘Not really. It’s just that you’re the first people I’ve ever told. Everyone else has always known about it before I arrived, so I’ve never had to talk about it.’

‘It must have been pretty shit,’ said Luke.

Matthew stared across the room, a kaleidoscope of memories flickering before him. Of standing barefoot and up to his ankles in dirty snow, soaking wet and shivering as the blows rained down upon him. Of the kicks that left him limping for weeks. Of the shouting and cursing. Of clenched fists. Of nursing his broken arm and trying not to cry because crying never helped.

Jane kicked Luke under the table and to lighten the moment, offered to get another round in.

When she returned, Luke distributed the drinks. She was just sitting down again when he asked Matthew what had happened to the bloke who had snatched him.

Matthew twiddled his beer mat for a long time, eventually saying, ‘It was . . . I can’t . . .’

He buried his face in his cider.

Luke opened his mouth to question him further, caught Jane’s eye and changed what he’d been going to say. ‘And that’s why you don’t talk much?’

Matthew carefully placed his cider on the beer mat. ‘A bit. Plus, sometimes I’m not always sure what to say to people. What’s appropriate. You both absorbed this sort of thing from your cradle. It’s instinctive for you. Not for me. Besides, I couldn’t really speak properly until my dad got me back. No one ever spoke to me so I never learned. Couldn’t read or write, either. Lots of catching up to do.’

Jane and Luke eyed each other, each aware of standing on the brink of something that could sweep them all away.

‘In that world, people could explode into violence at a single word. Sometimes not even that. I . . . I don’t like angry people. It’s not . . . it’s not fear – well, it is . . . it’s just . . . something shuts down inside me . . . and I can’t . . . well, you know . . .’

‘Yes, I do know,’ said Jane. ‘I don’t like angry people, either.’

They both looked at Luke. ‘Not a problem for me,’ he said, cheerfully. ‘I’m usually the one making them angry. You two can stand behind me, if you like.’

Matthew forced a smile and then said brightly, ‘You’ll be relieved to hear I’ve stopped hiding under the bed.’

‘Well, good for you,’ said Luke, secretly rather appalled.

Jane said hesitantly, ‘Was it very bad?’