Cherubs are ranked according to the colour of the T-shirts they wear on campus. ORANGE is for visitors. RED is for kids who live on CHERUB campus but are too young to qualify as agents (the minimum age is ten). BLUE is for kids undergoing CHERUB’s tough one-hundred-day basic training regime. A GREY T-shirt means you’re qualified for missions. NAVY is a reward for outstanding performance on a single mission. Ryan Sharma wears the BLACK T-shirt, the ultimate recognition for outstanding achievement over a number of missions. When you retire, you get the WHITE T-shirt, which is also worn by some staff.

1. SHORTS

10 minutes late. Traffic nightmare!!!!!

No worries. Mum won’t be back for hours.

Getting XXX cited. You wearing the cut-offs, like in that pic?

As agreed, you old perv ☺☺☺

Leon heard the BMW roll on to a driveway strewn with brown leaves. The fourteen-year-old bounded two steps at a time, coming down to the front door as the car flashed to show it was locked. Its driver approached, his bulky outline shimmering through frosted glass.

Leon wore frayed denim shorts a size too small, grubby trainer socks and a black muscle vest. His hair was bleached and tight-cropped, showing a silver cross in his right earlobe.

‘Hey,’ Leon said, grabbing the latch and staring down, embarrassed.

The BMW on the drive was a year old. Nigel was forty-two, wearing bottle-green slacks, Ralph Lauren short-sleeve tight around the gut and four grand’s worth of Carrera watch. The expensive look was spoiled by twisted teeth and choking aftershave.

‘Finally here,’ Nigel said, as he crossed the threshold and made a little clap. ‘You look really nice.’

Leon smiled coyly, then looked alarmed. ‘Take your shoes off. My ma is a carpet Nazi.’

‘Of course,’ Nigel said, peeling slip-on brogues as he glanced around the little hallway, at family pics and a coatstand. ‘Your parents?’

‘Don’t worry, old man,’ Leon said, smiling and resting one hand on the wooden knob at the bottom of the stair rail. ‘My sister is at uni. Mum’s at the Trafford Centre, and she’s left me dinner to heat up.’

‘Cool beans.’

‘Drink?’ Leon asked. ‘Tea, Coke, water?’

‘I’m OK.’

Leon shrugged. ‘You got something for me?’

‘Absolutely.’ Nigel pulled out a roll of twenties. ‘Three hundred, as agreed.’

Leon pinged off an elastic band, then quickly counted the notes before shoving them into his front pocket.

‘I’ll have enough to go to V-Fest with my besties. And get my Xbox fixed.’

‘I can’t believe I’m here after all the messages we’ve sent each other.’

‘Me too. Hang on a sec while I grab myself a Coke.’ Leon backed through a door into the kitchen, seeing his twin Daniel, plus a larger man in a smart suit. As soon as Leon gave the thumbs-up, the pair hurried out into the hallway, pursued by a stocky woman with a pro camcorder balanced on her shoulder.