Heading along the road, Alex grew increasingly puzzled. He was certain they had come the right way, but there was no sign of the old man. He stopped when he reached a spot where two twigs formed an X. Two stubbed-out cigarettes lay nearby.

“Hands up.” His grandfather’s voice came out of nowhere.

“Grandad?”

“Hands. I don’t like guns, so don’t make me have to use this one.”

Alex and Harry raised their hands. Alex’s grandfather’s head lifted warily above the hedge farther along the road. His eyes glittered coldly as he studied them. He flicked a quick, unreadable glance at Harry, then turned his steely gaze on Alex.

“Over here. Slowly.”

Alex did as he was told.

“Grandad—”

“What was the name of the film I sent you for your birthday?”

“What? Uh . . .” Alex struggled to remember. Something old, black and white. “Night of the Hunter.”

“And what did you make of it?”

“Not much. It was a bit silly.”

“Hmm.” His grandfather squinted at him. “Sounds like you, anyway. Come closer, hold out your hand.”

Alex did it. His grandfather lifted the last of his salt sachets in one hand, ripped it open with his teeth, then reached quickly over the hedge to sprinkle grains onto Alex’s palm. The old man watched Alex’s face carefully while nothing happened.

“Lisssen,” Harry said. “Can I put me bloomin’ ’ands down?”

Moving as though he suddenly couldn’t contain himself any longer, Alex’s grandfather grinned wildly, ducked out of sight, and burst through a hole low in the hedge. He carried no gun, only his cane, bag, and Alex’s rucksack, all of which he dropped to clutch Alex by the head. He stared into his eyes with a serious, searching look, then wrapped him in a hug.

“Grandad, are you okay?” Alex asked, rubbing salt from his hand.

“Fighting fit,” Alex’s grandfather replied. He let Alex go then spun to embrace Harry. “Question is: how’s this chap? Unbelievable! Harry! Let me look at you.” The old man stepped away, gazing in wonder. “My word, man! Harry . . . how are you?”

“Yeah, fine,” Harry said, embarrassed by the attention. “Just a bang on the ’ead. Little woozy.”

“Harry can’t remember much after his crash,” Alex said pointedly. “He came to in the woods.”

“Just amazing,” Alex’s grandfather said. “Ah, now, Harry. I need a quick private chat with Alex. Something his mother wanted me to check. Teenager stuff, you know.”

“Sure thing,” Harry said.

“I thought you said you couldn’t do it,” the old man murmured as he drew Alex aside.

“I didn’t think I had,” Alex whispered. “He just . . . turned up.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“Nothing. I was waiting until we found you.”