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  “I might just go downstairs and see him.”

  “Oh.” Gina was disappointed. “Why do you want to see him?”

  “I just need a quick word. Then I’ll be all yours.”

  Gina quickly looked away, pretending to rearrange her school books as her cheeks threatened to burst with heat. “Fine, go ahead. I’ll be down in a minute,” she said nonchalantly.

  Declan headed down the stairs. He knew he wouldn’t have much time. He just needed to get his hands on the piece of paper he’d seen Tom slip into his jacket pocket earlier. He hoped Tom might be in one room and his jacket in another. But as he dithered over which room to try first, Gina’s mum called to him from the kitchen and beckoned him in. As he entered, Declan’s eyes fell on Tom’s jacket, draped over a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Declan,” Gina’s mum began, “I wanted a quick word with you, while Gina isn’t around.”

  “Okay, Mrs. Wilson.”

  “Oh, you’re so polite.” She smiled. “But you don’t need to call me Mrs. Wilson, just call me Clare.”

  “Okay, Clare.”

  “Listen, Declan.” She leaned towards him, her eyes bright. “I just wanted you to know that I’m so pleased you’re around. You becoming friends with Gina has been great for her. You’ve really taken her out of herself. You know she took her dad’s death extremely hard, don’t you…? Especially the circumstances.” Clare coughed, trying to hide her own emotion.

  “Yeah.” He nodded, looking uncomfortable.

  “Things have been difficult this last year. I’ve been sick with worry about her. She’d become obsessed with certain ideas about her dad’s death, so to see her taking an interest in things again, to see how much she enjoys being with you, well…it makes me hopeful she’s coming out the other side.” Tears sprang into Clare’s eyes. “Oh sorry, how embarrassing.” She tried to dry them with the washing-up gloves that encased her hands.

  “Don’t apologize, Mrs…I mean, Clare,” Declan stumbled. “I’m glad you think I’m helping. I really like being with Gina. She’s a great girl.”

  “And you’re a great boy!” she replied, throwing her arms around him and giving him a heartfelt hug.

  Declan looked mortified. “I don’t deserve that,” he mumbled.

  “I know,” Clare laughed. “What young man wants to be hugged by a middle-aged woman? I tell you what, let me make you a cup of tea instead.”

  “No…” Declan saw his chance. If he could just get Gina’s mum out of the room, he could search through Tom’s jacket. “You go in the living room and put your feet up and I’ll make everyone a cuppa.” He tried to guide her out but Clare was having none of it.

  “Declan, this is my house and you’ll do as you’re told,” she said playfully. “Danny and Tom are in the living room. Go in and see them.”

  Declan walked past the jacket, eyeing it up longingly.

  He stood in the open doorway of the living room watching Danny and Tom standing at the fish tank. Danny was in full flow about his restocked tank, oblivious to the fact that Tom was sipping his whisky with his eyes cast down to the floor.

  “Uncle Tom, you haven’t really looked at my tank since I got all the new stuff. Can you see the three clownfish? They love swimming in and out of the pirate ship. And what do you think of the new coral?” Danny was saying excitedly. “I think the colours look amazing, especially against all the blue stones.” He pointed to the floor of the tank. “It looks cool, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, yeah, great,” Tom muttered, without looking.

  “Uncle Tom…” Danny turned to face him. “Could I come and help at the allotment at the weekend?”

  “Not yet, Danny. I’m still doing all the heavy work.”

  “That doesn’t matter. I don’t mind the digging and stuff. I’m good at it. I’m stronger than I look,” he said, flexing his puny arms, hoping to raise a smile from Tom. But the solemn-faced Tom didn’t speak. He seemed to be looking right through Danny.

  “Go on!” Danny tugged at Tom’s shirtsleeve. “I could bring a pack of cards. I’ll even make us some sandwiches.”

  “Haven’t I already told you? I’ll let you know when you can help,” Tom snapped.

  Danny’s face dropped. He turned quickly back to the fish tank, trying to hide his embarrassment and hurt.

  Declan felt the boy’s upset and swiftly announced his presence with an overly cheery “Hello!”

  Danny and Tom looked round, surprised to see him standing there.

  “How you doing, Danny?” Declan asked warmly, patting the boy on the back. “How’s that footy team of yours getting on?”

  Danny looked worried. “I’m in goal tomorrow. First time! Only because Max Reece is having his tonsils out. I don’t even want to be in goal. I’m best on the wing but Big Paddy, our coach, he says I won’t be missed and I’m better off in goal because I’ve got big hands.”

  Declan tried his best not to laugh.

  “I’m going to be rubbish and we’re playing the Thunderbolts and they’re well dirty. One of their players got banned last season for punching the ref. They’ll probably kick my teeth in when I go down for the ball.”

  “Well we can’t have that. Your teeth are your only good feature,” Declan said.

  “Get lost!” Danny shoved him, chuckling.

  “What time is kick-off?”

  “Six-thirty at Ryland Park.”

  “Okay, well how about I call round for you after work, about five-thirty. We could go to the park and I’ll shoot a few penalties at you, give you a few tips?”

  “Yeah, all right,” Danny chirped. “That’ll be good, thanks. Hey, Uncle Tom, do you fancy a training session in the park tomorrow?”

  “What? No. I’m too busy,” Tom answered gruffly.

  The three of them stood in an awkward silence, which was only broken when Gina breezed in. She said “Hi” as she walked over to the display shelf and cupped her hands around the mended grey urn.

  Tom glared at her. “For God’s sake, Gina, do you have to do that?”

  “What? What have I done?”

  “What have you done?” Tom said incredulously. “It’s that weird thing you do with the urn every bloody time you come into this room.”

  Gina’s stomach turned over.

  “I…I…it’s my dad,” she spluttered.

  “It’s not your dad! It’s just a load of ashes and most of them will be from the burned-up coffin.” His voice was rising. “Isn’t it about time that urn was moved somewhere so we all don’t have to keep looking at it? We know Martin’s dead. We don’t need it there to constantly remind us.”

  Gina stood in stunned silence.

  “That’s a bit out of order, isn’t it?” Declan said, coming to her defence.

  “Shut up. This doesn’t concern you,” Tom barked.

  Gina’s mum rushed in from the kitchen.

  “Tom, what’s going on?” Clare asked sharply.

  Gina found her voice. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do with my dad’s ashes.” She squared up to him, anger in her eyes. “What the hell are you doing here anyway? This isn’t your house. We aren’t your family. Why don’t you just get lost!”

  “Look, let’s all calm down,” her mum said gently. “I’ve made tea. We’ll go in the kitchen and sit down.”

  Tom shot a withering look at Clare. “Is that your solution; a cup of tea? You’ve got to tackle this, Clare. You’ve indulged this behaviour and it’s not helping her. She needs to snap out of it. Can’t you see that? If I’d been here, I would have sorted Gina out long ago.”

  “But you weren’t, were you?” Clare snapped back. “You went off travelling after you said you’d be here for us.”

  “I’m sorry, Clare. But I’m here now and I’m going to help.”

  Gina felt Tom’s hands come down firmly on her shoulders. “We all miss your dad but he’s dead and nothing is going to bring him back. He killed himself, Gina. I know it’s painful but your refusal to accept that
hasn’t just been damaging you; it’s been torturing your mother and distressing Danny. It’s selfish, Gina. You’ve been making it so much harder for everyone. It’s time to move on.”

  Gina met Tom’s steely gaze.

  “You know that my dad didn’t kill himself,” she said accusingly.

  “What are you on about?” Tom retorted.

  Gina pushed his hands off her. “You know things. You did things. The phone call, saying he was depressed, that text you got after our house was broken into.”

  Tom bubbled with fury. “I’ve had enough of your insane talk. This has got to stop. You’re ridiculous!” he roared.

  Danny gasped in shock at Tom’s outburst. Declan reached out to Gina but she turned and ran out of the room. Her mother went to follow her.

  “Leave her, Clare,” Tom shouted. “Let her mull over things. It’s for the best.”

  “But she was getting better…making progress. There was no need for that,” Clare fumed.

  “There was every need. Just wait, you’ll see I’ve done the right thing,” Tom said.

  “Mum, should I go and see her?” Danny asked, eyeing Tom nervously.

  “No thanks, Danny. Why don’t you go to your room for a minute? Tom’s just going, aren’t you, Tom?” she ordered.

  Declan panicked and stepped out in front of him. He had to find out what was on that piece of paper. “Did you bring a coat, Tom? I’ll get it for you.”

  “I’m capable of getting my own jacket, thanks,” Tom growled.

  Clare walked into the hallway with Tom following her, protesting, “I’m not being chased away, Clare. We need to discuss this now.”

  “Can I just use your loo?” Declan said to no one in particular as he rushed past them.

  Declan ran up the stairs and into Gina’s bedroom without stopping to knock.

  “Gina!” he hissed. She was banging a fist on the wall in an effort to stop herself crying.

  Gina raised her head, mortified as she realized he was standing there. “What are you doing in here?” She turned her face away from him. “Get out, Declan! I don’t want to see anyone. I just want to be left alone.”

  “Listen, Gina,” Declan said urgently, sitting down on her bed. “I need your help. I need it right now. I need you to come downstairs and talk to Tom.”

  “Talk to him! Are you joking? I can’t even bear to look at him.” She was still talking to the wall.

  “Gina, I need you to stall him. He’s about to go home and I need to do something before he goes.”

  Curiosity overwhelmed her. She looked at him.

  “What do you need to do?”

  “Nothing much.” His foot tapped nervously on the side of her bed. “But it’s important, Gina, really important and if I don’t do it now I’ll miss my chance.”

  “You tell me what it is and I might do it for you.”

  “No! I just need you to stall him. Keep him in the living room for two minutes, that’s all.”

  “No deal.” Gina crossed her arms. “You keep him talking. I’ll do the business.”

  Declan’s eyes danced manically as he considered his options. “Okay, okay. It’s his jacket. It’s on a chair in the kitchen. There’s a piece of paper; it should be in the inside pocket. I need to know what’s written on it. Don’t take it, just look at what it says, okay?”

  Gina frowned. “What’s this about?”

  Declan put his hands in praying position. “Please, Gina, I haven’t got time to explain.”

  “Is Tom up to something?”

  “He could be. That piece of paper might tell us if he is.”

  “Then why didn’t you just say so? You said you’d let me know if anything happened. Did someone give it to him?”

  “Yes, some big guy from the Ivory Coast. He could be a business associate. He came to the warehouse. I don’t know who he is.”

  “So why do you think it’s something dodgy?”

  “Call it gut instinct. I just have a bad feeling about it all and I want to see what’s on that paper.”

  Gina’s face split into a grateful smile. “Thanks for doing this for me, Declan.”

  “S’okay,” he mumbled to the ground. “Just hurry up!”

  As Declan raced down the stairs he was relieved to see that Tom hadn’t moved from the hallway, where he was still arguing with Gina’s mum.

  “Clare, she needed to be told,” Tom was saying.

  “I’m not going to talk about this any more,” Gina’s mum huffed, walking away from him and passing Declan on the stairs. “Go home, Tom.”

  Tom’s face was like thunder as Declan approached him, thinking fast. “Tom, I know it’s not a good time but I need to discuss something important with you.”

  Tom scowled at him. “Can’t it wait, for God’s sake?”

  “No, it’s about the warehouse, the stock. I meant to tell you earlier.”

  “What is it?” Tom said impatiently.

  “Well…” Declan began, walking into the living room, desperately hoping Tom would follow. “It’s about the air-conditioning system. I don’t think it’s working properly. The left side of the warehouse felt really humid today.”

  “What? Are you sure?” Tom said, following him in.

  “Yep.”

  “But the beans have got to be kept cool or else they could be ruined,” Tom said.

  “I know. That’s why I knew you’d want to be told,” Declan said, shutting the door behind them with relief.

  Gina watched, unseen, as her frazzled-looking mum disappeared into the bathroom. She seized her moment and crept down the stairs and past the living room, where Tom’s exasperated tones cut through the closed door.

  “This is all I need; that air-con system cost me a bloody fortune. It’d better not be playing up. There’s thousands of pounds’ worth of stock in that warehouse.”

  As she entered the kitchen, Gina spotted the jacket straight away. Shutting the door as quietly as possible, she picked it off the chair, unzipped the inside pocket and felt around. Nothing. She delved her hand into the left-side pocket and pulled out Tom’s car and house keys and a packet of chewing gum. In the right-side pocket she found a leather wallet. Her eyes flashed to the door as she pulled out the wallet and opened it. She flicked through the rows of credit cards and an impressive array of membership cards for clubs where he entertained important clients. Gina bristled; sure, Tom was generous and, over the years, he always seemed to enjoy visiting them, but she couldn’t remember him ever taking her dad to any of his clubs. It suddenly struck her that maybe Tom had thought that a warehouse foreman wasn’t good enough to mix with his wealthy friends.

  Focus, Gina, don’t get sidetracked. She opened the wallet’s main compartment and pulled out the wad of crisp, clean notes. Placing the pile of money on the kitchen table she fanned it out and, as she swept her hand over the fifties and twenties, she spotted a white piece of paper folded amongst them.

  She picked it out and opened it, revealing a set of numbers: 874351/54/208/23/10/13

  What – is that it? She turned it over to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. She rifled through all the pockets of the jacket again – there was nothing else. A creak from the living room door sent her heart jumping into her mouth.

  No way will I remember those numbers, she thought. Pen? I need a pen. She looked around the kitchen in a panic, as if the place was unknown to her.

  Messy drawer! She scrambled to open the drawer next to the cooker and fought through a tangle of elastic bands, batteries, and sellotape until she unearthed a pen. Paper?

  She heard Tom’s voice in the hallway. “I’ll check it out on my way home.”

  “No, wait.” Declan’s voice boomed a warning. “Do you want me in extra early tomorrow, in case there’s loads of sacks to sort out?”

  “Are you after a pay rise, Declan?” Tom said half impressed and half mocking. “Just let me go to the warehouse and see for myself.”

  “So you’re going then!” Declan said
loudly.

  Hurry up! Hurry up! Gina panicked.

  She copied the numbers from the paper onto the back of her hand before frantically gathering up the money, placing the folded paper in between the notes again and stuffing them all back into the wallet.

  “For God’s sake, Declan, I’m not deaf…” Tom stopped dead as he opened the kitchen door to find Gina, one hand deep inside a pocket of his jacket.

  “Gina! What are you doing with my jacket?”

  “Did it fall on the floor, Gina? Were you just picking it up?” Declan prompted her from behind Tom.

  Tom turned his head to Declan; the look on his face silenced the boy. “I wasn’t asking you. I think it’s best you go home.”

  “But—” Declan began to protest.

  “Home!” Tom jabbed a finger at him, before shutting the kitchen door.

  Gina felt the blood drain from her face. “I…I…was just looking to see what make it was. I reckoned it was probably Armani. I wanted to check.”

  Tom eyed her suspiciously. “Come off it. Since when have you taken an interest in my clothes – in any clothes, for that matter?”

  She cast her eyes to the floor, licking her suddenly dry lips.

  He took the jacket from her and picked his wallet out of the pocket. Opening it, he ran his fingers over the top of the crumpled notes.

  “How much have you taken?” His voice darkened.

  Gina’s heart was beating out of her chest. “Nothing,” she whispered.

  “But you’ve been through my money, Gina, you must have taken something.”

  Gina swallowed hard, keeping her eyes on the floor.

  “Listen, I know that you’re angry with me, but you can’t go stealing from me.”

  “I wasn’t stealing, honest,” she muttered. “It was for Mum.”

  “What was for your mum?”

  “I was looking for money because I wanted to buy something for Mum. I’ve only got a tenner and I wanted to get her something decent.”

  “It’s not her birthday for months,” he said accusingly.

  “It’s not for her birthday. I wanted to get her something to show her that I’m sorry for being such a pain since Dad died. I know I’ve been a pain, Tom – what you said has made me think.”