You never touched drugs. Not even cannabis, which everyone said was harmless. That had been rammed into her brain, nailed into it, from an early age. Playing with drugs was Russian roulette. You could be fine on it – maybe – or it could induce psychosis. You could wind up a paranoid schizophrenic. Pull the trigger, her dad had always said, and see whether the bullet took your brain right out. Your choice!

Which was fucking ironic, given the fortune that Charlie Stone had apparently – according to Belle – made from selling the damned things. But looking at this girl, looking at the stuff in her hand, made Milly wonder.

Everything hurt. Life hurt, right now. Her parents were gone. She missed Mum already, much to her surprise, and she had once adored her dad, even if he did have faults, even if he was the world’s worst crook, a fucking drugs baron, even if he’d never rated her at all. Now she was afraid of the future, under Harlan’s thumb. He would be in charge, and she would be nothing. As per usual. She stared at the pills in the girl’s hand. It made you feel better, they all said. Milly felt she would give anything, to feel better.

‘You in or not?’ said the girl, getting impatient.

Milly pulled a tenner out of her bag and handed it over. Then she tossed the pills onto her tongue, bent her head to sluice in water straight out of the tap.

For the first time ever, she let the good times roll.

97

Terry could feel a cold wind coming. Charlie had always laughed at Terry’s sensitivity to atmosphere – because Charlie had been dead from the neck up, as far as any finer feelings were concerned. Terry was the one who sometimes sensed danger before it hit, and Charlie had been glad to have him around.

Now, with Charlie gone, it was like a part of Terry himself was missing. Guilt chewed at his guts day and night. He should have been with Charlie that day. What Harlan had said when that Jet Ranger crashed was absolutely right. It was his job in life to look after Charlie, to be his right hand, and he had failed. Feeling sick at heart, still he did the rounds as usual, checked out the dealers, visited the crack production lines and so far – so far – Harlan had left him alone to get on with it all, while making it perfectly clear that Terry answered to him now.