‘I wasn’t going to tell him anything. His dad slept on the sofa, he’ll see that for himself, and I just thought … I just thought we could have breakfast.’

‘I know but … the message that sends. It’s just not the right time, not now.’

‘You’re right. I’ve had a nice night. I guess I didn’t want it to end.’

‘Good night, Danny.’ Sharon held the door open.

‘I meant on the sofa, you know that, right?’

‘I do and I am sorry, OK.’

‘Don’t be. You’re right.’

Danny was back out into a night that had turned cold. The walk away from his house felt more alien than ever. Dinner had been so natural he had almost forgotten the weeks of being anywhere but here.

He pulled his car door open and the light was sudden and bright to illuminate the yellow steering wheel lock wrapped tight round his steering wheel.

‘What the hell?’ The lock had been a present from his dad who had seen a news item on the ease of stealing new cars, then demanded an unimpressed Danny put the key on his fob. Danny lifted the fob now. The key was still there. Danny had thrown the lock in the boot the moment his dad had left, never to be used again. And yet here it was, gripped tightly round his steering wheel.

Danny looked around. Lydden was a quiet village between Dover and Canterbury and no one was around. No one was ever around. He moved to lift the boot. There were no signs of any damage to any of the locks. The boot was empty. He moved back to the driver’s seat and tried the key he had. The lock fell open. A piece of white paper came away to fall into the footwell. Danny opened it.

LAST ORDERS?

The words were handwritten and in the same scratchy style as the note that had tempted him to the paper mill.

Danny took the lock to the boot and lingered for a last glance at his house. His future was here. The last thing he wanted to do was drive away, to leave any of it behind.

‘I just want to be back here …’ he muttered. He didn’t want to go back to his hotel and he sure as hell didn’t want ‘last orders’ either.

But he could check that last night had gone OK, that it was all done. It would put paid to any anxiety he had.

And then he could focus everything on getting his family back.

Chapter 10

The lank-haired barman looked up when Danny pushed through the door. He stood wiping the bar under a darkened television screen – his routine for closure already well underway.

‘Hey!’ He stopped his work to call out like he had seen an old friend. ‘I wondered what had happened to you! Usual?’