"Yes, you did," laughed Laura.
"I am still here, you know," said Mark. He knelt down and started picking up the pieces of broken glass.
Donovan moved to help him put the glass splinters on a copy of The Economist.
"Didn't mean to spook you, Mark. Sorry."
"I wasn't spooked," said Mark.
"You caught me by surprise, that's all."
"I didn't want to come up the front path, just in case."
"In case we're being watched?" asked Laura, sitting down.
"Who'd be watching us, Den?"
"I dunno, Sis. I don't know who knows I'm here. Better safe than sorry."
Mark carefully lifted up the magazine and carried it out to the kitchen. Donovan went to sit next to his sister.
"When did you get back?" she asked.
"Yesterday. How is he?"
"He's okay. Cried his eyes out the first night, now he's sort of numb. Shock."
Donovan shook his head, his lips tight.
"I'll swing for that bastard Sharkey. And her."
"That's not going to help Robbie, is it?" She put a hand on his shoulder.
"What are you going to do, Den?"
Donovan shrugged.
"He's going to have to come back with me. I'll get him a new passport and we'll head off."
"To the Caribbean?" she said, scornfully.
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"What about his school? His friends? Us?"
"It won't be for ever, Laura. There are schools there. He'll make friends. You and Mark can come out on holiday."
Mark appeared at the door.
"What holiday?"
'I'm just saying, if Robbie and I go to Anguilla, you can come and stay."
Mark and Laura exchanged worried looks.
"What?" said Donovan.
"Nothing," said Mark.
"Come on, spit it out."
Mark hesitated, then took a deep breath.
"Look, it's none of my business, Den, but right now Robbie needs stability. Pulling him out of his environment and dumping him on a tropical island is going to be a hell of a shock to his system."
"It's Anguilla. It's not Robinson Crusoe. We're not going to be fishing with safety pins and drinking from coconuts. It's more bloody civilised than this shithole called England, I can tell you."
"Maybe, but this is home. Anyway, I'm not arguing with you. Robbie's your son. End of story. What do you want to drink?"
"JD and soda," said Donovan.
"You'll be lucky," said Laura.
"You can have whisky and like it."
Donovan grinned.
"Okay, but the good stuff, none of that Bells crap."
Mark disappeared back into the sitting room.
"He's right, you know," said Laura.
Donovan nodded.
"Yeah, I know, but the UK's just too hot for me now." He rubbed his hands over his face.
"Shit."
"What?"
"I've just remembered. Anguilla's probably not the safest place in the world for me now, either."
"Why's that?"
Donovan flashed her a rueful smile.
"Small run-in with some Colombians."
"Hell's bells, Den. And you want Robbie to get involved in that?"
"I'll get it sorted, don't worry."
"You make sure you do, Den. I'm his godmother, don't forget, and that includes me being responsible for his moral upbringing." She was only half joking.
"He can stay here, you know. As long as needs be. The kids love him. So do we."
"I know, Laura, but I'm his father."
"I know you don't want to hear this, but the fact that you were his father didn't stop you gallivanting off to the Caribbean for months at a time, did it?"
"Gallivanting?" grinned Donovan.
"You know what I mean."
Mark returned with a tumbler of whisky and soda for Donovan and a fresh gin and tonic for himself. Laura flashed him a warning look. It was his third gin in less than an hour.
"The last one was spilt," he said defensively and sat down on the sofa opposite them.
"Okay if I see him?" asked Donovan.
"Sure," said Laura.
They stood up and Laura took Donovan upstairs. She pushed open the bedroom door and stood aside so that Donovan could see inside. Robbie was lying on his front, his head twisted away from the door so that all he could see was a mop of unruly brown hair on the pillow. He tiptoed over to the bunk bed and knelt down, then gently ruffled his son's hair.
Robbie stirred in his sleep, kicking his feet under the quilt.
"Don't worry, Robbie, I'm here now," Donovan whispered. He felt a sudden flare of anger at Vicky and what she'd done. Betraying him was bad enough, but to let her son witness her betrayal, that was unforgivable.
He slipped out of the bedroom and Laura closed the door quietly. They went back downstairs and into the conservatory.
Donovan picked up his whisky and soda and paced up and down. Laura sat down next to Mark, her hand on his knee.
"Has she called?"
Laura nodded.
"Day before yesterday. She said she wanted to speak to him, but I said he was asleep and told her to call back today. She didn't."
"She calls again, just hang up, yeah?"
Laura nodded.
Mark leaned forward, his hands cupping his gin and tonic.
"No offence, Den, but how much trouble are you in?"
Donovan smiled thinly. A very angry Colombian on his trail and sixty million dollars missing from his bank accounts. Quite a lot, really.
"I'll be okay," he said.
"The police are going to be after you, aren't they?"
Donovan's smile widened. About the only good news he'd had so far had been from Dicko telling him that the police didn't have anything on him yet. He shook his head.
"They'll be watching me, but there's no warrant. And I'm not planning on being a naughty boy while I'm here, Mark. Cross my heart. I don't intend to be here more than a few days."
"I wasn't being .. . you know .. ." said Mark. He tailed off, embarrassed.
"I know. It's okay."
"It's just that we've got a business .. . obligations .. ."
"Mark!" protested Laura.
"Leave him alone!"
Donovan held up his hand to silence her.
"Laura, it's okay. Honest. I understand what he means. Mark, I'll be keeping my nose clean, I promise. And I'm really grateful for what you and Laura are doing for Robbie."
Mark leaned over and clinked his glass against Donovan's. They toasted each other.
"I'm sorry, Den. Bit stressed, that's all."
Donovan waved away his apology, then asked Laura if she'd had the locks changed. She went into the sitting room and came back with a set of gleaming new keys and a piece of paper on which she'd written the new code for the burglar alarm system. Donovan took them, drained his glass and then gave his sister a big hug.
"I'm off," he said.
"I'll drop by and see Robbie tomorrow, yeah? And don't tell him I was here tonight, okay?"
Donovan shook hands with Mark, then left through the french windows, keeping in the shadows as he headed back down the garden.
"Who was that masked man?" whispered Mark.
Laura put her arm around his waist.
"He's really pissed off, isn't he?" she said.
"Understatement of the year."
"God, I hope he doesn't do anything stupid."
"I think it's too late for that." Mark put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him.
Donovan flagged down a black cab and had it drop him a quarter of a mile away from his house. He put his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket and kept his head down as he walked along the pavement on the opposite side of the road to his house. He walked slowly but purposefully, his eyes scanning left and right under the peak of the baseball cap. There were no occupied cars, and no vans that could have concealed watchers. A young couple were leaning against a gate post devouring each other's tongues but they were way too young to be police. An old lady was walking a liver-coloured Cocker spaniel, whispering encouraging noises and holding a plastic bag to clean up after it.