‘Don’t you want to be nice to me, Harry?’ Fawn purred menacingly.

I’m never going to beat the Janssens in a fight, but what if I could get them to trust me?

‘I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it,’ Harry said sourly. ‘I said, nobody would read it. People can sniff out a bland puff interview. You need a hook to draw them in.’

‘Then find a hook,’ Fawn snapped.

Fawn crushed her own sister. Fawn can squash me like a bug. What the hell do I say …?

‘People love seeing inside their rich neighbour’s houses,’ Harry blurted finally. ‘That way you sneak your wholesome message in. I can do a short interview, pictures of your chandeliers and fancy stuff, pictures of you looking nice. If you or JJ have any swanky cars, park ’em in front of the house and you’ll draw in clicks from men too.’

‘My yellow Lamborghini?’ Fawn suggested.

‘That’ll work,’ Harry said, hooked on the idea of photographing a fancy house, until he remembered who it was for and why he was doing it.

‘It’s a neat idea,’ Fawn said. ‘I’d heard you were smart. And how’s my kid sister faring?’

‘Not bad. She’d really like to see Ed.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Fawn said, though her tone made it clear she wouldn’t. ‘I’ll look at my diary and message you some possible dates for the photo shoot. And be sure to give my best regards next time you hang with Charlie.’

Harry heard a sly cackle as Fawn hung up, and the image of Cruella de Vil in the old 101 Dalmatians cartoon came into his head. He realised how tense he’d been when he saw the back of his phone smeared with sweat.

‘Bastard Janssens,’ he shouted, throwing a big punch at his mattress. Then Harry muttered under his breath, as if he was trying to convince himself, ‘Nobody’s unbeatable. There’s got to be a way to get them.’

33 EARLY BIRD

‘You normally need an atomic blast to get you out of bed,’ Kirsten told Harry. ‘What happened?’

Kirsten was dressed in a silk Algarve Casino-branded robe, holding her first coffee of the day. It was only a quarter past seven, but Harry had his school uniform on, and stood at the counter checking his bag.

‘English lit, English lit textbook, Spanish, math, clean gym kit.’

‘Earth to Harry?’ Kirsten said. ‘Come in, please.’

‘Ellie called me,’ Harry explained. ‘He’s on a super-early flight from San Francisco. He wants to meet me before school.’

‘When did that happen?’ Kirsten asked.

‘Midnight.’

‘You’re spending so much time on Vegas Local and talking to Charlie,’ Kirsten said, keeping her tone bright so that Harry didn’t accuse her of repeating her usual moan. ‘You’d better not be letting your schoolwork slip.’