I went in again the next night but still couldn’t find it, and I spent even longer looking, always careful to put stuff back where it belonged and even waiting till I got outside to pee.

I presumed the bosses—or the PC—would accept it just wasn’t there, because that was my conclusion, but I turned out to be wrong. The job had changed now and as soon as I found out how I told BJ I wasn’t his man. He doesn’t make with the threats or anything, which is what I’m expecting, he goes on more about how much we’re going to make and all the kudos we’re going to earn with those who matter if I pull it off. Earning kudos with the bosses means a lot to him, and I have to admit I’d rather be on the right side of them than not.

Anyways, I still wasn’t keen, having never done anything like it before, but then BJ starts going on and on about the money and what a difference it was going to make for my ma if she had some cash behind her. She wanted to fix up the house as best she could, get some glass put in the boarded-up windows, replace old carpets, and put in a washing machine. It might even make it possible for me to do a proper apprenticeship as a car mechanic, or a builder, or something to help me turn respectable. I got that was probably never going to happen, not when I knew they’d come back for me anytime they felt like it.

So, I ended up telling him that before I did anything I had to talk to someone with experience of that sort to get some wisdom. The only person I knew was doing a stretch, so I got a train to Durham and by the time I came home again I was ready to roll.

I got everything together, borrowed a van, and drove up to the Heights. I’d seen you and your family a few times when I was scoping the place for break-in, but I know you’d never seen me. I was very careful about that as I watched you come and go. With it being dark and having so much wilderness to hide out in, it wasn’t hard.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“I’m going to turn the car around,” Jasmine shouted from the front door.

“OK, we’ll be right there,” Claudia called back. “Are you sure you should come?” she said to her mother, wincing as Marcy broke into another fit of sneezing. “That cold’s getting worse and you don’t want it ending up on your chest.”

“I’ll be fine,” Marcy protested, catching her breath and reaching for another tissue. “I don’t want to miss tonight.”