He smiled at his own good fortune. The Changeling had shown everyone what he had always known: he was a damned good actor. The story was a melodrama about a man who comes back years later to claim his inheritance, after an evil housekeeper switches her child for the rightful heir. It was a stupid storyline, but he had made it work. He was the Changeling and he had given the part all he had. The film was a success, and now offers were pouring in thick and fast. He was pleased with himself, pleased at how his life was going. The boy from the South London backstreets, still alive in him, though carefully submerged these days, kicked himself each day to make sure it was all true.

He walked out on to the landing and realised he was in Peter’s house. He opened a door nearby, looking for a bathroom of some description. No luck. It was as he approached another door that he heard the noise. He stood still and listened carefully.

It sounded like someone crying.

Walking towards the sound, he opened Peter’s bedroom door. It was an act he was to regret all his life.

Peter was sitting on the floor naked; the whole room seemed to be covered in blood. It was even on the ceiling, great red splashes vivid against the white paint. The bed was one deep crimson stain, and on it lay a young man Jonathan could not remember seeing before. Beside him, sitting with his head in his hands, was Rupert.

Peter looked at Jonathan over his shoulder and said brokenly, ‘It was only a game, a silly game... I never meant it.’

He started crying harder, his face a mass of make-up and tear stains.

Jonathan put his hand to his mouth to stop the tide of sickness rising up in him. The fresh smell of blood was cloying, sickly sweet on the air. Staggering from the room, he ran down the stairs. He picked up the phone and dialled Briony’s number. She was the only person he could think of who would be able to sort out a mess like this.

Briony was at the house in twenty minutes. She walked through the door with her usual air of capability and common sense. The first thing she did was to give Jonathan a large scotch, then she went up and looked at the damage for herself.