The silence, the peace, the lack of any sort of disturbance that had followed the accident to the Range Rover mystified Liv. No one could have had the least idea of where she had gone, James and Claudia knew nothing of Jonny’s existence, but still for a whole week after her arrival there she had expected the police to come pounding on the front door of 15 Russia Road. She anticipated stories in the papers, news on Silver’s radio or on the television set in Jonny’s room that only he ever watched. There was nothing. But she disbelieved what Silver said, that Claudia and James might simply be relieved to see the back of her, their children unharmed, their Range Rover covered by insurance. Incessantly she worried, principally about the money she had stolen.

“They won’t even know,” Silver said. “They think a loaf of bread costs £20.”

“But they can’t. No one can be so silly.” Liv’s English had apparently improved enormously in the short time she had been at Silver’s.

He, who was always reasonable, always sane and clear-headed, who could always be relied on to put forward the sensible and worry-free viewpoint, asked how she thought they could prove it. Had she considered that? “Did they write it down in an account book? Did you give them receipts you got from shops? No to both, so don’t worry.”

“You think I just keep it and everything is all right?”

“Give a tithe to the poor,” said Silver.

He prepared an evening meal, something he by no means always did but when he felt, in his words, in the “cooking vein.” It was pasta with carbonara sauce out of a jar, halva and oranges to follow, and several bottles of Bulgarian red wine. Everyone smoked, though only tobacco that evening, and Liv lit candles which she set about the room. Silver took me home quite early, about ten. There was no need to escort me, I only had to go down the stairs and out into the street for thirty seconds, but he insisted on coming with me and, after planting a brotherly kind of kiss on my cheek, watched me go into 19 from his front gate and reach the safety of the iron staircase.

“See you tomorrow,” he said, and added in a whisper in case a concealed Max or Selina might be listening, “We’ll go on the roofs.”