She looked a lot like her nephew. Harry had caught the running bug from Kirsten and they shared the same slender build. She’d been getting undressed, so the belt of her white pants dangled and her double-breasted chef’s coat was unbuttoned, showing a grey undershirt beneath.

‘You’re early,’ Harry said, which was an understatement. It wasn’t eight and his aunt never got home before midnight.

‘I had a couple of diners compliment me on your photography skills,’ she said tartly, coming downstairs as Harry unconsciously backed into the kitchen island. ‘And an hour ago I had a call from the principal of your school saying that you’re suspended until I come in to discuss your actions after the evacuation.’

‘School’s closed until Tuesday anyway,’ Harry noted.

‘Don’t get cute!’ Kirsten snapped, hands on hips as Harry felt queasy. His aunt wasn’t around much and they rarely argued.

‘I’m not going through this again,’ Kirsten said, wagging a finger. ‘I grew up with a big sister I loved to bits. I watched her charging all over the world, with everyone telling me how brave and talented she was. But I spent too many nights lying awake worrying about her, and your nan was a wreck every time your mum left on another adventure.

‘Your mum almost died when she got shot, and again when she got blood poisoning in Zimbabwe. And then the ultimate nightmare happened. By which time your dad had pissed off back to Russia, and I wind up with a poor heartbroken seven-year-old to look after.’

‘Mum died of a heart defect,’ Harry pointed out. ‘She’d be just as dead if she’d become a librarian.’

Kirsten jabbed the finger into Harry’s chest. ‘When you turn eighteen, you’re free to take that stupid bloody Nikon your dad bought you and do what you like. But while I’m your sole guardian you don’t take stupid risks.’

‘It wasn’t risky,’ Harry said, imagining how crazy she’d be if she knew about Charlie and the explosives.

‘You climbed back into your school when it was locked down. Some psycho cop might have shot you, or another bomb could have gone off. There could have been a gas leak, or a live electricity cable …’

Harry felt the tear that streaked down his aunt’s face. All he could do was stare dopily at his feet.

‘It happened at my school,’ he said gently. ‘It’s not like I ditched uni and jumped on a plane to Malawi like Mum did.’

‘You edited the videos, and put them online. Found an agency to syndicate the photograph and sell the exclusive on the video. Maybe the explosion just happened, but you knew exactly what to do after. You must have put thought into this.’

‘It’s what I want to do,’ Harry said. ‘Probably …’