‘He couldn’t eat my pizza through the hole in his mask, so he lifted it up.’ Mathew put the palms of his hands tightly over his eyes and his voice shot up in pitch. ‘If he wanted me to share, he should have asked!’

Nathaniel nodded to Jack, indicating that Mathew was OK: he was getting upset, but he was coping.

Mathew’s tearful, increasingly frantic voice spat out words through his fingers. ‘They hit me and hit me and hit me. And then Oberyn Martell promised to only hit me one more time, but that was a lie.’ Mathew dropped his hands and leapt to his feet, his face wet. He looked towards, but not directly at, Jack, stepping quickly from foot to foot as he inched forwards. ‘I was so still, DS Warr, as still as a sleeping lion. For a long time. All the while they ate my pizza, I never moved.’ Jack had been told not to invade Mathew’s personal space but now Mathew was invading his. What should he do? Nathaniel once again gave a reassuring nod, so Jack stood his ground.

As Mathew continued, he began to sob, loudly and painfully. ‘And when they left, they took the pizza box with them and I shouted, “Please put that at the bottom of the bin!” ’cos Mum doesn’t let me have pizza. But Oberyn Martell just hit me again really hard on my back and shouted, “I’m the boss!” And again. Before running out of the house to catch up with his friends. I got up and I ran after him. “Please give me the box,” I said. “My mum will be so cross!” And do you know what Oberyn Martell did, DS Warr?’

Mathew was now standing so close to Jack’s face, that Jack’s eyes couldn’t bring him into focus. Jack shook his head.

‘Oberyn Martell put the pizza box in the bin for me. Right at the bottom, so Mum would never find it. That was nice of him.’ Mathew returned to his chair, put his headphones on and pressed play on his game.

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Ridley was stuck behind a ‘car v cyclist’ Road Traffic Collision near Vauxhall and hadn’t moved in over thirty minutes. All around him, irate drivers shouted at their passengers or into their mobiles or at the inconsiderate dead cyclist lying under a white sheet in the road ahead. Ridley was comparatively serene: he was working on his mobile, making lists and planning his day.