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Over the rest of the week, Fiona and Rose didn’t venture far from the estate. It rained nearly every day, so they stayed indoors, playing with Karma the kitten, watching movies, or venturing out between rain showers to take Lola for walks. The fields were peaceful without those little shits riding around on their dirt bike, and Fiona was sure it wasn’t just her who felt it. Every other dog walker they came across seemed happier and more relaxed. They were able to let their pets off their leads without worrying they would get mauled by a pair of badly trained German shepherds.

Every neighbourhood needs someone like me , Fiona mused. A spider to keep the fly population under control.

That day in the fields, when that boy had been riding around them on the dirt bike, she’d decided something needed to be done. She had pictured the bike skidding, crashing, exploding. In the fantasy, the boys’ clothes had gone up like firelighters, and they had flapped and screamed as the flames engulfed them. In her head, she could smell their flesh cooking; could hear their final screams before they fell silent forever.

Well, she had thought, perhaps she couldn’t arrange something as aesthetically pleasing as that, but an accident – something that would scare them and damage the bike – should be quite easy to make happen. There were a few people who went up that footpath on bicycles, but Albie and Eric were the only ones who traversed it on a motorbike. She had watched them a couple of times, speeding up and down the path, jumping between two trees that were only a couple of metres apart. Later, she went along the path when no one was around, to take a better look, and realised that the ridge they used as a ramp would be the perfect spot for a little accident. There was a crack in the ground across the ridge, a couple of inches deep. If she hammered a few sturdy, sharp nails into a strip of wood and wedged it into the crack, with the nails sticking up, it would only take a little luck for the wheel to hit them, which would surely send them flying and put the bike out of action. Maybe whoever was riding it would break an arm.

That morning, at the crack of the dawn, she went up the path and set the trap.

And it worked even better than she’d hoped. Albie had flown straight into one of the trees. Not a broken arm, but brain damage. He wouldn’t be bothering anyone around here for a long time.

While the morons across the street had been riding in an ambulance, she’d sneaked along the path and removed the strip of wood before anyone could investigate the cause of the accident. Easy.

And if the kid never recovered? She didn’t care either way.

Among the movies she and Rose watched, there were several that she personally found boring, but she had to choose them because she wanted to see Rose’s reaction to them. My Girl . Home Alone . Bambi . ET . Films that were specifically designed to make you cry. They watched them with the curtains drawn, and Fiona hoped Rose didn’t notice how her attention was mostly on the girl’s face instead of the screen.

Rose never shed a tear. Not when ET said ‘Be good’ to Elliott. Not when Bambi’s mother was shot by a hunter. Not even when Macaulay Culkin was stung by a load of bees and died. In fact, Rose had smiled at that bit.

They played board games too. Cluedo, Risk and chess, which Rose was surprisingly good at. Fiona, who had been taught to play by Maisie, was hard to beat for most casual players, with an Elo of 1300, and she expected playing Rose to be unchallenging, but she had to use all her experience and knowledge of gambits and endgames to beat her.

She set about coaching Rose, teaching her all the most common openings and how to respond to them, and working on tactics and strategy. It passed the hours while the summer rain beat against the window.

When they got bored of the games and movies, or of playing with Karma, Fiona would ask Rose to tell her stories from her childhood. Stories about her mum, dad and brother. It was all useful information-gathering. She found out that Rose’s earliest memory was seeing her brother almost choking on a piece of LEGO.

‘What about when you started school?’ Fiona asked. ‘Did you enjoy it?’

‘Not really.’

‘Why not?’

Rose needed coaxing, eventually saying, ‘There were all these groups of girls that seemed to make friends on day one and I ended up sitting on my own in the playground.’

‘They didn’t invite you to join?’

‘I think maybe they did. At first.’

‘And then?’

Rose shrugged. ‘For some reason, once they got to know me, they didn’t want me to play with them anymore. I ended up making friends with this girl called Jasmine who everyone said was weird and smelly. She was my best friend for ages.’

‘And what happened to her?’

Rose said, ‘Can we have another game of chess?’

It was a subject she clearly didn’t want to talk about.

‘Why did you move to this estate?’ Fiona asked a little later.

She had learned that sometimes you had to wait a long time for Rose to answer. She knew that most people would give up and start talking about something else, or suggest the answer because they couldn’t bear the silence. But Fiona was patient.

‘Mum and Dad were fighting a lot.’

‘Oh, really? That must have been horrible for you and Dylan.’

‘Yeah. I guess.’ Another long silence. ‘Dad was so angry. I never saw him get mad before. Mum’s always been the strict one. The one who yells at us if we do something naughty.’ She frowned like she was remembering something that pissed her off. ‘Dad’s pretty chill.’

‘Sounds like he was stressed out about something,’ Fiona said. She was intrigued but not surprised. She also knew the tension between Ethan and Emma was still there. She’d felt it last week when they’d got home from the Pulp gig. It was obvious they’d had an argument.

She was sure it was something she could use.

A week on from their first trip to Herne Hill, she and Rose were baking cookies in Fiona’s kitchen. Chocolate chip, using a recipe Fiona had found online. She wasn’t a great baker; cooking, in general, bored her. But shop-bought cookies wouldn’t do for the next stage of her plan.

When the cookies had almost cooled, Rose went over to grab a couple.

‘Just one,’ Fiona said.

‘What? Why?’

‘They’re not for us.’

‘Then who?’

‘Remember my friend? The one in Herne Hill?’

‘Uh-huh.’ Rose immediately sounded bored.

‘Did I tell you that he and I have this thing where we play pranks on each other? No? Well, it’s something we’ve been doing for years, and I owe him one.’

‘A prank?’

‘Yeah. It’s a good one. But I don’t want to spoil it for you, so you’re just going to have to trust me. Tomorrow, we’re going back to see him. That will be fun, won’t it?’

‘I suppose.’

Fiona smiled. ‘Do your part properly and you can have two cookies.’

Rose thought about this for a moment and said, ‘Can I have four?’

Now, here they were, back on the street where Max lived. Fiona was holding the tin of cookies, and had promised Rose she could eat however many were left.

‘For the prank to work, I’m going to need to get inside his house,’ Fiona said. ‘When he’s not there.’

‘Okay.’

Fiona patted her shoulder. ‘Good girl. Now, we’re going to be practising your acting skills. Here’s what I need you to do.’

Fiona had been here two days ago – Monday, when Ethan’s record store was shut, so she didn’t have Rose – to double-check Max’s routine. She had figured out from calling his law firm – using a made-up name, putting on an English accent and pretending to be a prospective client – that he worked from home. Both days she’d watched him, he’d gone out to get lunch at the same time, eating it in the park, on the same bench. Looking very much like a man with a clear conscience; one who slept very well, thank you.

Did he ever think about her? Did Maisie’s face loom from the darkness of his subconscious? How about Fiona’s face? She didn’t know what guilt felt like, but was aware most people suffered from it. Did Max? Did he feel any responsibility at all?

‘Ready?’ she asked Rose. She knew he would be going out for lunch in five minutes. This was the perfect time.

The girl nodded.

‘Don’t be nervous. You’ll be fine.’

‘I’m not nervous.’

Fiona had undergone a trial once, wearing a heart rate monitor and taking a series of tests, both physical and mental. It had showed that, although her heart rate increased during exercise, like any normal person’s, it never increased or decreased due to stress, no matter how much she was put under. It increased a little when she was shown the right porn or particular images that were appealing to her. But she didn’t feel trepidation like regular people, and when she experienced fear it was practical, sensible – her body making her react to danger because it benefited her, kept her safe from harm.

She wished she had a heart rate monitor to measure Rose’s pulse now, to see if she was right about her.

Fiona went a little way along the road, standing behind a tree and peering around it. She watched Rose ring the doorbell then stand straight, shoulders back, the tin of cookies in her hand.

He came to the door and Fiona heard him speak, the drawl of his Essex accent, but couldn’t make out the words. She heard Rose’s voice next, and knew she would be telling him she was selling cookies to raise money to pay for an operation for her dog. She had a photo of Lola ready if he asked. Fiona knew that Max was a dog lover – it was possibly his only good feature – and that he would be a sucker for a pet-related sob story.

He pointed into the cookie tin, and Fiona knew what question he would be asking. This was another reason why she’d got Rose to bake the cookies with her. Rose shook her head and, satisfied, Max went back inside, presumably to look for some coins. She gave Rose a thumbs up. Rose didn’t respond, just stood there primly, arms wrapped around the cookie tin.

God, she was good.

Max reappeared and reached out a hand, passing Rose what looked like a five-pound note. He put his hand in the tin and took a couple of cookies.

Then Rose did what Fiona had instructed her to do. She asked Max if she could pop into his house and use his loo.

Fiona watched his face. He looked taken aback, then alarmed. She knew that, for all his faults, he wasn’t interested in little girls. But he would be very aware that the world was quick to be suspicious of men who had any interaction with kids who weren’t their own. What would the neighbours say if they saw a twelve-year-old girl going into or coming out of his house?

Fiona thought there was a very good chance he would say no and tell Rose to use the toilets in the park. But, after glancing around, he nodded, then pointed into the house. As Fiona had suspected, he was cautious. He stayed outside, holding the tin of cookies Rose had handed him, while she hurried inside.

Fiona crossed her fingers. Would Rose do her job properly now? While she waited, Fiona watched as Max peered into the cookie tin, glanced at the front door, then sneaked another one out and put it in his pocket.

The greedy sod.

Then he lifted his head. Rose must have called him from inside, just as Fiona had instructed her to do. He hesitated, then went through his front door.

Two minutes later, they both came out. Max shut the front door behind him, and Rose waved at him then walked towards Fiona, going straight past her as instructed. At the same time, Max strode off in the opposite direction, off to get his lunch.

When she was sure he wouldn’t look back, Fiona hurried after Rose and caught up with her on the corner.

‘How did it go?’ she asked immediately. ‘Did you get it?’

‘Three nine four four.’

His burglar alarm code, which his old-fashioned system required to be entered before leaving the house. Fiona had instructed Rose to watch closely as he punched the code in.

‘You’ve done brilliantly,’ Fiona said. ‘Now, all we need to do is get his keys, then I’ll be able to carry out this prank. Oh, it’s going to be—’

She stopped dead. Rose was holding out her hand, palm open. In it sat a pair of keys and, attached to them, a key fob with a label.

‘They were hanging on a nail on the wall outside the bathroom.’

Fiona took the keys and read the label. Front door spare .

‘He just leaves them hanging there?’ she said.

‘Yeah. Some people are just ... stupid.’

Fiona grinned and patted Rose’s shoulder. ‘Oh, you got that right. They’re asking to be pranked, aren’t they? They’re just begging for it.’