‘Yes, but . . .’ Nula was finding it hard to breathe now. ‘Harlan could have got up without you knowing, couldn’t he? And gone down to Jake’s room?’

‘Well . . . yes. He could have.’ Now Chrissy looked uncomfortable.

‘You didn’t find Harlan difficult to look after, did you?’ asked Nula.

Chrissy shook her head.

‘Or Milly?’

‘Milly’s fine,’ said Chrissy.

‘Harlan was fine too? Easy to look after?’

Chrissy shrugged. Alarm bells started ringing in Nula’s head.

‘What does that mean?’ she asked.

‘Well, he’s not exactly an easy child, is he?’

‘Meaning?’

Chrissy looked uncomfortable. ‘Did you know he hides food under his bed?’

‘What?’

Chrissy nodded. ‘He does. I’ve found a few things under there. Boiled eggs. Stuff like that. An old sandwich, it was going mouldy. I picked it up to put in the bin and he threw a fit. I mean, he really hit the roof. He said it was his and I wasn’t to touch it.’

‘Why would he do that?’ wondered Nula aloud. She hadn’t had a clue about this. Chrissy hadn’t told her.

‘Have you heard of RAD?’ asked Chrissy.

‘What the hell’s that?’

‘I researched it after a few months of looking after Harlan. It’s reactive attachment disorder. It means they have no conscience and they don’t appreciate the consequences of their behaviour. I think Harlan’s got that.’

It was warm in the sunny little room, but despite that Nula felt a chill.

‘You looked it up? Why? Did he do something you thought was strange?’

Chrissy hesitated. Then she said: ‘He seems very detached, don’t you think?’

‘Well, I . . .’ Nula did think that. She’d thought it for a long time.

‘If I were you, I would go to where you got him from, and I would ask some questions. Because honestly, Mrs Stone, he doesn’t seem entirely “there”. And that would worry me. A lot.’

Nula looked straight at Chrissy. ‘Has he ever done anything around you that makes you think he could be . . . not “there”?’

‘This is difficult . . .’ said Chrissy, shifting awkwardly on the bed.

‘Tell me.’

‘He’s a good boy, mostly. I think he tries. He really does.’

But he shouldn’t have to try. Should he? thought Nula. But she said nothing. She wanted Chrissy to keep talking.

‘It was about a month ago,’ said Chrissy. ‘It was . . . I dunno. Spooky, I think is the word. Frightening.’

‘What did he do, Chrissy?’ Nula was staring at the girl’s face.

‘Milly and Harlan went to bed as normal. Then I settled little Jake down for the night and went back up to go to bed next door to the top nursery. I have the monitor, as you know, so if Jake cried I’d hear it straight away and go down.’