“My God,” said Finn, sounding shocked for the first time. “She’s just a kid. Surely you can’t think I… ”

“If you hurt my daughter,” said Donald, “if you do anything to hurt her, in any way, I’m going to drown you. I’ll take you down to the caves and tie you up and leave you in there for the tide. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Finn was looking through the window of the camper van.

“Ava’s coming back,” he said. “If you want her to ever speak to you again you might want to let me go now.”

In the moment when Donald hesitated, Finn slid to the ground and was suddenly free. He stood up, wincing. Then he looked Donald right in the eye and smiled.

“It’s all right,” he said. “Proper grown ups can never stand me. You should hear Ava’s husband on the subject.”

“You little bastard.” Donald lurched forward. Finn climbed hastily into the van and shut the door.

“We’re sleeping in the van tonight,” Finn told him. He looked frightened but determined. “Somewhere up the coast, so you won’t have to do anything about it. And I promise Alicia’s safe when she’s with us, okay?” Donald’s fist thundered clumsily through the open window, missing by half a foot. The engine throbbed into life. “Look, I won’t tell Ava about any of this. She doesn’t want to admit it but she likes you really. And just so you know, I think you’d probably be a lot better for her than that prick she married.”

Chapter Twelve: 2006

“I’m quitting,” Donald told Harry.

Harry looked at him over his mug of coffee.

“He’s lost the fucking plot.”

“He lost his wife. Give him time.”

“Time. It’s been months.”

“Yeah, well, she was sick for months, wasn’t she? Remember that job on the Appleton Road? Last bloody minute, he bailed and we had to bring Dave instead? They were at the hospital, getting her diagnosis. Then he had a year of her dying. Give him a chance.”

“He’s finished. Can’t do this job if your heart’s not in it. He should walk before he’s pushed. Must have the cash. He’s been in for fucking ever.”

“You after his job? Come on, back to it.”

You never hear anything good by eavesdropping, Donald told himself, resting his forehead against the cold white tiles of the stall.

“So we’ve got the Niewinski job, then the Blue Crocodile. Andy’s not happy. The Brixton boys. Getting all up in his face with their bad selves, or some such thing. Show your faces, let them know we’re keeping an eye. If it gets tricky, don’t be afraid to step in. Donald, you all right for that? Donald?”

“Got it.”

“Sure you’re up for it?”

Donald felt himself redden. Normally, Harry punished inattention with at least five minutes of banter. He hated that Harry still had the kid gloves on. He’d been widowed, not bloody incapacitated.

“Donald?”

“Yes. Sure.”

“I could give it to someone else?”