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The man has grown very still. Joseph slides his hand behind him, into the gap between the sofa back and the seat cushion. His fingers brush the screwdriver’s resin handle, then curl around it. He doesn’t know what’s happening here but he knows it isn’t good. Even Erin has started to look nervous – and that’s not something he sees often, if at all.
After what feels like a minute, but is probably no more than a handful of seconds, Gabriel replaces the photo frame. ‘You have a beautiful family,’ he tells Erin.
‘Thank you.’
‘Families are precious.’
‘They are.’
‘And vulnerable.’
‘Vulnerable?’
‘More vulnerable than you might think. But we do what we can to keep them safe.’
Erin’s smile has reached its tolerance. She folds her arms, unfolds them. Then she moves to the door and opens it, revealing Max.
The boy lurches upright, realizes he’s been caught. When he sees their guest, his facial muscles slacken.
‘And here he is,’ Gabriel says.
Max steps backwards, nearly collides with the bannisters. His brain seems to be performing the same paroxysms as Joseph’s a few minutes ago.
‘I’ll show you out,’ Erin says. As she leads Gabriel to the front door, the boy’s hands tighten into fists.
Worried that his son is about to do something that will sink them both, Joseph jumps up. Only as he steps into the hall does he realize he’s still clutching the screwdriver.
Erin opens the front door. Gabriel walks to his car without looking back.
Once the Mercedes has reversed off the drive, Erin turns towards her stepson, eyes flashing. ‘That was inappropriate. Why on earth were you eavesdropping?’
‘Because I … Who was that?’
‘The brother of a work contact.’
‘What was he doing here?’
‘He’s concerned about his brother. Why?’
Max’s eyes flare. And in that moment a memory comes to Joseph from last summer, of the fawn that had watched from the undergrowth as he’d killed its mother. The fawn couldn’t have comprehended the death sentence Joseph had just served it too, but it had understood well enough that something seismic had happened.
Right now, his son looks similarly stricken.
‘Max,’ Erin says, her voice softening. ‘Is everything OK?’
When she steps towards him, he steps back. When he reaches the stairs, he charges up them to his room.
Erin watches his departure. Then, indicating the kitchen with a flick of her head, she leads Joseph along the hall and shuts the door. At the table near the bifold doors, she makes him sit. ‘This feels like déjà vu.’
‘What does?
‘Putting you in the chair. Demanding you talk.’
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Joe, come on. I’m not stupid. Things have been weird in this house for days. I know you know what I mean. I thought, maybe, that I’d been imagining it, that when I gotback from London everything would be back to normal – or as normal as it’s been – but it’s all just as strange as it was. We don’t keep secrets. At least, we never did. Has something happened, between you and Max? Is he in some kind of trouble?’
‘Like what?’