He goes to the built-in bookshelves on the far wall, behind the desk. Underneath the shelves on either side there is a set of cupboard doors. The same cupboards his dad had been rummaging through last week when he was in one of his tempers. Theo bends down and pulls open one of the doors. Neatly stacked is a pile of Lever Arch folders. He pulls one out and skims through the pages; it looks like old tax accounts. He shoves them back, making sure to keep them in the right order. He’s certain that’s the kind of thing his dad would notice. He tries the other cupboard but it’s locked. Damn it. He didn’t even think about that. Why would his dad lock it unless it was something he didn’t want anybody seeing? Mavis isn’t even allowed in here to clean. He tries the desk drawers instead. Surprisingly they aren’t locked but they contain nothing exciting, just some receipts held together with a bulldog clip, a pack of Bic pens, a fancy fountain pen, some certificates from the golf club and a bottle of pills. He picks them up, examining the label. Blood-pressure medication. He didn’t even know his dad had high blood pressure. He replaces the bottle. There must be something, he thinks, his eye going again to the locked cupboard. He has to get in there, whatever the consequences. He opens the desk drawer again and finds two large paperclips, which he bends into a V, shoving the end of one into the lock. He’d tried this once, with a bunch of mates, years ago at school to get into the display cabinet that held all the sporting medals: they’d wanted to play a prank on one of the rugby team. He remembers having to push down on the end of one, while jiggling the other. ‘Come on, you piece of shit, open,’ he says through clenched teeth. Finally he hears a pop and feels a release and the cupboard springs open. He sits back on his heels, shocked that he’s actually managed to do it.