We were nearly there. We both felt that once Jason was safely gone, our troubles were over. Without him, Andrew and Alison would be the ordinary not-worth-a-second-glance Mr. and Mrs. Rogers on their way to spend a long holiday with a relative in Sydney.

“I wish I hadn’t come to dislike them,” Silver said. “It makes things much harder.”

For me, what made things harder was the awareness that if the social services had known in the first place what we knew, they’d never have so much as allowed Alison to foster Jason, let alone adopt him. It’s very disquieting to find out that the objects of your good deed may be unworthy of it. But we both agreed it was far too late to back out. Much earlier than was usual with us, at about six, we walked around to Torrington Gardens to make the final arrangements.

I had read in the paper that day about a woman who had been sent to prison for three years for traveling with a man who had a false passport. The charge was something to do with trafficking in human beings. I decided to say nothing about it to Silver.

Chapter 33

33

IT WAS TWILIGHT. THE evenings had begun to draw in and the nights to lengthen. It was dry but cold, a wind blowing in short sharp gusts. There would be a time of calm and then a rush of wind, enough to hold you still if not blow you off your feet. The tarpaulin on the roof of the burned houses moved up and down with a melancholy flapping sound. We stopped for a moment to look at the now derelict facade, top windows boarded up, water streaks staining the plaster like black tears.