Charlie was looking around. As a place to store a haul, it might do. He went to the kitchen door, then back out into the hallway. There was a sound, right by his ear. He stopped. Tensed. Opened the door under the stairs. Then he stepped back in surprise. There was a small boy in there, looking out at him with wide pale grey eyes.

The boy didn’t move, didn’t blink. He must have heard the commotion and hidden himself away. That whore in there, that disgusting junkie who’d topped herself, was probably the kid’s mother. Charlie stooped down, putting himself on the boy’s eye level.

‘Hello,’ said Charlie.

‘Who are you talking—’ asked Terry, coming out into the hall at the sound of Charlie’s voice. ‘God Almighty,’ said Terry, seeing the kid crouched in there.

Now Landon came out too. The kid backed away further. Charlie was staring at the boy, his mind whirling. He was thinking that this was one of those moments when the good angels came and changed your life for you. It had happened to him once before, after Beezer’s fortuitous spell in jail. And here it was, happening again. Was he a lucky bastard, or what? Well of course he was. He was Charlie Stone. King of the world!

‘It’s all right, mate,’ Charlie said gently to the boy.

He was running it all through his head. He’d had to bin the legal adoption, but here was another, easier route for him to take, and he was going to grab it. Nula need never, ever know a thing.

‘Don’t be afraid,’ he said.

He held out his hand and the boy hesitated for only a second. Then he took it.

‘What’s your name, kid?’ asked Charlie.

The boy blinked. ‘Harlan,’ he said.

34

When the woman from the adoption agency rang and said they’d found a child who might be suitable for the Stones, Nula was relieved. No more hassle, no more pressure, but a son – at last! – to please Charlie. Along with Milly, it would make their family complete.

‘There are a few more questions I have to ask,’ said the woman on the phone. ‘I’ve just taken over from Mrs Mulville, she’s left the agency now, so I’m familiarizing myself with her casework at present.’

‘Anything,’ said Nula, knowing that this whole thing was giving Charlie a bad case of the shits, but he was doing it for them both, and she was touched by that.

‘Well, Mrs Stone, Harlan’s a delightful boy. Quiet, pleasant. I’ll bring him for a visit, if we could finalize a time next week . . . ?’