He blinked at me innocently. Too innocently. ‘What?’

‘You trained me. Everything you know, I know.’

He shrugged. ‘So?’

I pointed down. ‘Do you really think I’m not going to notice that kind of sleight of hand?’

He cursed. ‘I knew I should have kept back a few tricks.’ He sighed and slid a rolled-up piece of paper out of his sleeve.

I recognised the photo immediately. It was taken not long after I’d joined him. Both of us were beaming into the camera; both of us looked so young. ‘You didn’t need to steal this,’ I said softly. ‘I’d have given it to you if you’d asked.’

He looked away. ‘I didn’t want to come across all soppy.’

I tutted. ‘Taylor, come on. I think after all we’ve been through…’ I paused and my eyes narrowed. Hold on a second. ‘Smart. Real smart. Use an old diversionary tactic. What are you really hiding?’

His eyebrow twitched. Tell-tale giveaway. Sometimes he forgot that I knew him almost as well as I knew myself.

‘What have you really got hiding there?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s all your junk, today’s newspaper and some daft knife.’

Was this more trouble to deal with? ‘It’s a letter opener.’ I met his eyes. ‘And? What else are you covering up?’ I demanded.

‘And nothing. How did it go at my house? You were quite a while.’

‘I bumped into your friend.’ Or rather his fist bumped into my head. Whatever. The Wild Man was the least of our problems. ‘It didn’t go very well.’

Taylor’s eyes widened. ‘Are you alright?’

‘I’m fine.’ This wasn’t the time to skirt around the truth. My gaze hardened. The only thing that I hadn’t seen was the newspaper. That must be what he was trying to conceal. ‘Hand over the paper.’

He shook his head vehemently. ‘There’s nothing there. I was just reading the horoscopes. You don’t want to know what mine said.’

The day that Taylor was superstitious and believed the bumph the newspapers printed was the day I stopped liking hot pink. I lunged towards him, feinting right then grabbing the newspaper with my left hand.

‘Integrity!’ he howled.

I backed away and smoothed it out ‒ and saw the headline.

‘I could leave the country,’ Taylor started. ‘I’ve heard Belize is nice at this time of year.’

I ignored him, scanning the story. And I’d thought things couldn’t get any worse. I should have known better.

‘You’d have somewhere nice to come and visit on holiday,’ he continued.

‘And what about Brochan and Speck?’ I sighed. There was no choice. ‘No,’ I said, pointing to the huge picture on the front of the paper. ‘I’ve got a far, far better idea.’

Taylor squinted. ‘You can’t.’