Joseph and Cal had tidied the kitchen and washed up after dinner. Darryl checked the fridge—plenty of ready meals and milk. He’d placed a twenty-pound note on the table for groceries, and it was still there. Upstairs his brothers were in their bunk beds, but the small TV was warm to the touch and there were video games strewn across the floor. Some of them looked like they belonged to Annette. Joseph had asked permission to borrow one or two, and Darryl had agreed.

“I hope you two are asleep,” he warned them, though they weren’t about to open their eyes and give up the pretense. Closing the door, he slipped into his sister’s room and switched on the light. The walls had been painted black, but then decorated with posters and stickers. There were little stars and planets on the ceiling that glowed in the dark—those had been a Christmas present from Darryl. He sat for a moment on her single bed. He could smell her perfume, reckoned it was coming from the pillow. He lifted it and sniffed. There was no real sense of absence—at any moment she could come bounding in, demanding to know what he was doing there. They’d been competitive when younger, landed a few slaps, kicks and bites. But not recently, having come to inhabit different worlds.

“Just come home, you silly bitch,” Darryl said quietly, rising to his feet and heading back downstairs. He lay down fully dressed on his narrow bed, leaving the lights off in the conservatory so he didn’t need to close the blinds. Then he tapped a name into his phone and waited until his father picked up.

“It’s me,” he said.

“Any news?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s been two weeks.”

“I know.”

“How’s your mum?”

“Not great.”

“I can’t come back, Darryl.”

“Why not? Hammell wouldn’t dare touch you.”

“This is my life now.”

Darryl Christie stared at his faint reflection in the glass panels overhead. Light pollution again: no stars visible.

“We miss you,” he told his father.

“You miss me,” Derek corrected him. “Is Frank still treating you right?”

“Yes.”

“And Cal and Joe?”

“They’re okay.”

There was silence for a moment. “Is Frank there tonight?”

“Not since Annette went missing.”

“His choice or your mom’s?”

“I’m not sure.”

They spoke for a few more minutes, until Derek Christie reminded his son how much the call was costing.

“I keep telling you,” Darryl said, “it’s Frank’s tab.”

“Even so…”