"I think your associate is trying to attract your attention," said Carlos dryly.
Donovan glared over at Doyle who was now walking across the sand in their direction, still waving the mobile phone like a conductor trying to energise an orchestra.
"You'd better push off, Carlos," said Donovan.
"I'm going to have a quiet word with Mr. Doyle."
"It's always difficult to get good people," said the Colombian.
"I could tell you stories. Another time, though." He walked away down the beach, the cream linen trousers of his suit cracking in the wind like the sails of a racing yacht.
Donovan strode towards Doyle.
"What the fuck are you playing at?" he yelled.
"I told you to stay on the road. And if that fucking phone is switched on I'll shove it so far up your arse that your teeth'll vibrate when it rings."
"It's Robbie," said Doyle, so quietly that his Scottish burr was almost lost in the wind.
"He sounds hysterical. Something about Vicky."
"Oh Christ," said Donovan. He grabbed the phone out of Doyle's hand and slammed it to his ear.
"Robbie, what's wrong?"
As Robbie explained what had happened, the colour drained from Donovan's face. He walked to the water's edge as he listened to his son, occasionally whispering quietly into the phone, barely noticing the waves that lapped over his Bally loafers.
When Robbie had finished, Donovan told him not to worry, that everything would be all right, that he'd take care of it.
"Dad, you have to come home. Now."
"I will, Robbie. I promise."
"Now," Robbie repeated.
"A day or two, Robbie. I've got to get a flight and stuff. Where are you?"
Robbie sniffed.
"I don't know," he said.
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
"I'm near school. I ran away. But I don't know where to go."
"Call your Auntie Laura. Right now. She'll pick you up."
"I don't want to go home, Dad."
"You don't have to. You can stay with your aunt until I get there."
Robbie said nothing and for a moment Donovan thought that he'd lost the connection.
"Robbie, are you there?"
"Yeah, I can hear you," said Robbie. There was another long silence, with Donovan listening to nothing but the crackle of static.
"Dad?" said Robbie eventually.
"Yes?"
"Are you going to kill them?"
"Don't be silly, Robbie," said Donovan.
"Look, hang up and call Aunty Laura. Tell her what's happened and that I'll call her."
"Okay, Dad."
"I love you, Robbie."
"I love you too, Dad."
The line went dead. Donovan threw back his head and screamed obscenities into the wind.
"Kill them?" he yelled.
"I'll rip them limb from fucking limb when I get my hands on them!"
Stewart Sharkey put his hand on Vicky's shoulders.
"It'll be okay," he said.
Vicky shook her head fiercely.
"How the fuck's it going to be okay?
Tears trickled down her cheeks. Sharkey tried to brush them away, but Vicky threw up her hands and forced him back.
"Leave me alone!" she shouted.
"This is all your fault."
Sharkey looked hurt by her outburst.
"That's not fair, Vicky," he said.
"Fair! Den's not going to care what's fucking fair!" she hissed.
Sharkey reached out a hand to hold her arm but Vicky took a step back.
"Look, maybe Robbie won't say anything," he said.
"He's got a mobile. He'll call Den."
"We can say he's confused."
"Oh, grow up, will you, Stewart? He saw us in bed. Where the fuck's the confusion?" She slammed her hand against the wall.
"You shouldn't have come around. I always said never here, didn't I? Your place or hotels, that's what we agreed. I said never here, didn't I? But you had to do it in the bed. Den's bed. Like a dog pissing on another's territory."
Sharkey sat down on the stairs.
"It takes two, Vicky," he said quietly.
She whirled around and raised her hand as if to slap him, but then she shuddered and began to cry, great heaving sobs that wracked her slim body. Sharkey stood up and held her and this time she didn't try to push him away. He stroked her hair.
"I'm sorry, love," he said.
"He'll kill us," she sobbed.
"Stewart, you know what he's like. Oh God, how could I have been so stupid?"
"We want to be together, you know we do. He was going to have to know some time."
"But not like this. Not with Robbie .. ." She started to cry again.
Sharkey rested his cheek against the top of her head and closed his eyes. He knew that she was right. He more than anyone knew what Den Donovan was capable of.
"We've got time," he said.
"Time?"
"To move. To make plans. For a new life."
"What about Robbie? We have to take Robbie with us."
"Later," said Stewart.
"He's my son," protested Vicky.
"Of course he is," said Sharkey.
"But he's Den's son, too. He'll lead Den to us."
Vicky looked up at him, her cheeks wet with tears.
"I can't leave him," she said.
"He hurt himself when he fell down stairs."
"He was fine, Vicky. He ran out of here like a bat out of hell."
"But I don't even know where he is."
"He'll go around to a friend's house," said Sharkey.
"Or he'll call Den's sister. And he'll be on the phone to his father. Don't worry about Robbie, Vicky. Worry about yourself
"I want to be sure that he's okay."
"We don't have time, love," said Sharkey.
"We're going to have to go now."
"Go where?"
"I've got an idea," said Sharkey, smoothing her hair with the flat of his hand.
"Just trust me."
Vicky began to sob again and Sharkey held her tightly.
Donovan called his sister from a call box close to a beachfront cafe. Barry Doyle stood by the car looking uncomfortable. Laura answered on the fifth ring.
"Den, thank God. I can't believe this," she said.
"Have you got Robbie there?"
"He's watching TV with my kids," she said.
"He's in a right state, Den."
"Let me talk to him, yeah?"
Laura called Robbie to the phone and handed the receiver to him.
"You okay, Robbie?"
"When are you coming home, Dad?"
"Soon, Robbie. Don't worry. You can stay with Aunty Laura until I get there, okay?"
"I guess. What about school? Do I still have to go?"
"Of course you do."
"But it's miles away."
"Aunty Laura'll drive you. Just be a good boy for her, yeah, until I get things sorted."
"What are you going to do, Dad?"
"I'm gonna get a ticket and then I'll come and see you."
"I meant about Mum. And him."
"I'll get it sorted, Robbie, don't you worry. You can stay with me, I'll take care of you. Chin up, yeah?"
"Okay, Dad."
"Put your aunty on, will you?"
Robbie handed the phone to Laura.
"Thanks, Laura."
"Anything I can do, Den, you know that. Can't believe what the stupid cow's gone and done."
"Yeah, you and me both. I need a favour, Laura."
"Anything."
"Can you go around to the house? Robbie's passport's in the safe in the study. You got a pen?" Donovan gave her the combination of the safe.
"Get the passport, and there's cash there, too. And a manila envelope, a biggish one. In fact, clear everything out, will you?"
"What if she's there, Den?"
"It's my house, and Robbie's my son. I don't want her doing a runner with him. I said Robbie could go to school but I'm having second thoughts."
"You can't keep him off school Den. There's laws about that."
Donovan rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Yeah, you're right. Can you run him there and pick him up? Make sure he gets inside. And have a word with the headmistress. Vicky's not to go near him."