Shaun wasn’t worried when the police showed up at his door.  These things happened sometimes.  Plan for every contingency, that was his motto.

Jo called him to the front door, and he greeted them with a smile.  “Good morning, officers.  How can I help you?”

“Are you Shaun Mandeville?” asked one of the coppers.  He was a stocky, shaven-headed type who looked as if he might have a bunch of lumpy blue tattoos under his uniform.  The type who believed in the rule of law, which usually meant throwing suspects down the stairs two or three times a week.  That might have scared some people, but not Shaun.  Guys like him were basically attack dogs- they’d follow whoever had the loudest voice.  All you had to do was redirect him to another target.

“Yes,” said Shaun, “May I ask what this is regarding?”  It was hard for him to get a read on the other officer.  He had more hair than the attack dog, and a thinner face.  He looked more like a deliveryman than real police.  Shaun would have to look a little closer at this one.

“We just want to ask a few questions,” said the attack dog, “Can we come in?”

“Of course,” said Shaun, “Right this way.”  He led them past Jo, who closed the door behind them.  If he led them to the conservatory at the back of the house, then that would give him an excuse to give them a tour of the house, maybe fill them in on the Oakmen’s good works so that they’d be more sympathetically inclined by the time the interview began.  The house itself was a little place they were renting from somebody’s relatives, but it made a nice backdrop.  No-one questioned your respectability when you were surrounded by mahogany tiles and tasteful beige carpets.

“Excuse the mess,” he said, nodding towards the baked-bean cans piled up on the living room table, “You caught us in the middle of our food drive.”

“Is that so?” asked the deliveryman, taking care not to sound interested.

Shaun shot him a winning smile.  “Help for the homeless.  We can’t do much, but I think it’s important to give back, don’t you?”

The deliveryman didn’t reply.

They passed through the kitchen, where Debbie was teaching Wade and Maya’s kids how to make fajitas, and down the back hall, where Jo’s Medieval-style tapestry hung, and finally into the conservatory, where they kept their musical instruments.  When Shaun pointed these things out, he was careful to address the attack dog rather than the deliveryman- guys like him always had a sentimental streak a mile wide.

“Take a seat,” he said, moving a set of bongos off the sofa so they could sit down.  He sat on the chair opposite, and leaned forward, trying to look as engaging as possible.  “So!  How can I help you?”

The attack dog cleared his throat.  “Well, there’s been some complaints.  Do you know a girl named Mariam Gharib?  University student?”

In a split-second, Shaun had to think the whole thing through and decide how he was going to play this.  Did he deny that he’d ever met Mariam, and hope that her co-workers hated her too much to ever mention that they’d seen him too?  Did he talk about her affectionately, and try to play it all off as a misunderstanding?  Did he do his best to convince the cops that everything she’d said was born out of a delusional obsession, a desire to feel important?  The trouble was, he had no idea what she was actually saying about him, although the fact that they were having this conversation in his house rather than at the police station suggested that it couldn’t be anything too dire.

He decided to go for the charm offensive.  “Mariam?  Yes, she came to a couple of our meetings.  Seemed like a very bright girl.”

“Well, she says you bothered her at work.”

“I wanted to check that she was OK.  She’d seemed upset at the meeting the day before.”  He hoped he’d phrased that right.  The last thing he wanted was to give the coppers the idea that the meeting had made her upset.

There was also the Natalie situation to deal with.  The cops would probably bring that up next.  Shaun needed to play himself as a concerned friend, trying to get Mariam out of a toxic friendship that was hurting her in ways she couldn’t see… but if he was giving the cops the idea that he didn’t know Mariam very well, then how could he have known about that?  The signs would have had to be particularly obvious, Shaun decided- stolen money, screeching fits in public, threats of suicide.  And the Oakmen were all about helping people, so Shaun would have had to…

“Do you know a man named Alex Rudd?” asked the deliveryman.

Shaun was temporarily thrown off-balance.  “Um…  I think I recognise the name.”  He nodded, righting himself.  “Yes, he was a guy who stayed with us for a few weeks.  This would have been five, six years ago.”  Jo and the others had practically pissed themselves in delight when Alex’s name came up after the bombing, but there had been no sign of him since this whole thing had started.  Even when all his housemates had come to the meeting, Alex was nowhere to be seen.  Hiding, or secretly pulling the strings?  Shaun wished he had a clue.  “We had to ask him to leave in the end.  He seemed… well… a little unhinged.”

If Alex had told the police anything about what had happened in Dorset, then he was an idiot.  The only evidence of any of their little adventures would have been things he and the rest of his team had left.  He’d only be incriminating himself.

“Well, Alex Rudd lives in the same house as Mariam Gharib,” said the deliveryman, triumphantly, as if he’d just pinned Shaun to the wall with a brilliant piece of evidence.

Shaun just winced in sympathy.  “Really?  God.  Poor Mariam.”

He’d surprised them there, he could tell.  The two of them went quiet for a moment, then looked at each other, like, Help, what do we do now?

Eventually, the attack dog cleared his throat.  “Mariam said that she heard someone trying to get into her house last Friday night.  One of her neighbours said he spotted a group of people in black outside her house.  You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Shaun was going to kill Bradley.  He’d told him over and over, they had to go about this subtly if they were going to draw Alex out, but when Mariam didn’t show up to that first meeting, guess who decided that getting a posse together and trying to smash the door down was the best idea?  Ridiculous.  “…No?” he said, “Was everyone OK?”

Before the attack dog could reply, the deliveryman let out a long, nasal sigh.  “Look, the point is, Mariam and her housemates have made it clear that they don’t want you around.  You might not think that’s fair, you might not know why, but you need to take them at their word.  Don’t seek them out, don’t go to places you know they’ll be…  Just maintain a healthy distance.  OK?”

Shaun did his best to put on a sad, hangdog expression.  “Well, I’m sad to hear it, but if that’s what they want, I’ll honour their wishes.”  He remembered Mariam’s co-worker, the guy behind the bar.  Adrian, she’d called him.  He hadn’t seemed to like her much, had he?  That might be a good place to start.

“And I’d stay away from Berrylands University in general,” the attack dog broke in, “We checked with the university staff, and they never gave you official permission to be there.  Don’t make trouble for yourself, eh?”

Shaun felt like poking the attack dog’s eyes out with his thumbs.  “You’re right.  I’ll be sure to keep my distance.”

He just needed a way to get in touch with Adrian.  Then he could decide what to do next.

*

Mariam had told her over and over about what had happened on Monday, but, even so when Natalie opened the door to a strange woman with long grey hair, it didn’t ring a bell.  Her mother had often told her that she needed to be a better listener.

“I’m here to see Alex,” the woman said, and then Natalie remembered.

“I don’t know what to tell you.  He’s not here.”

The woman’s expression didn’t change.  “Let me in, please.”

 “Nope.”  Natalie folded her arms.

Mrs Rudd (if that was really who she was) took a harsh, ragged breath.  “I really think you’ll want to let me in this time,” she said, nodding towards her right hand.

Natalie looked down.  Mrs Rudd’s hand was mostly hidden in her handbag, but there was something in there.  Something grey, possibly tube-shaped.  It looked as if she was holding it in the way someone would hold a gun.

Natalie’s first thought was, That’s almost certainly fake.

Almost, though.  Could Natalie take that risk?  Because even if Mrs Rudd didn’t exactly strike her as a master gangster, even if Natalie had no idea how she’d even begin to get hold of a real gun, there was always that small chance that she was and she had.  And if it was real, then from what Mariam had said, Mrs Rudd seemed like exactly the sort of person who’d lose her temper and pull the trigger at the slightest provocation.

Trying her very best not to sound threatening, Natalie asked, “What do you want?”
Mrs Rudd’s mouth gaped in exasperation.  “I just told you…”

“No, I know you want to come in,” Natalie said quickly, “But what do you want to do once you have?  Alex isn’t in.  He told us he was going to Amsterdam.  If he’s not there, we don’t know where he is.”  And then she accuses me of lying and shoots me in the stomach.

But instead, Mrs Rudd stayed calm.  “I want to see his room.  Maybe he left something in there that can tell us something.”

Alright.  She had a plan, and that plan wasn’t ‘run amok through the house destroying everyone’s possessions.’  That was better than Natalie had expected.  She stood aside and let her through.  “I should warn you, I don’t actually have a key for Alex’s room.”

 Mrs Rudd didn’t seem to hear her.  She was looking at a couple of opened and discarded envelopes that had fallen on the floor.  She nudged them with her foot.  “This what you do, then?  Leave your rubbish all over the carpet?”

Natalie caught a glimpse of Isaac’s name on one of the envelopes, and silently cursed him.  “I’m sure it was just…”

“If it was my house, I’d make you eat it.  Who do you think’s paying for this place? The fucking tooth fairy?”

Natalie was pretty sure there wasn’t any answer to that question that wouldn’t infuriate her even more.  “Alex’s room is just upstairs,” she said, pointing at the staircase.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”  Mrs Rudd took Natalie’s arm and all but dragged her up.

Her hand wasn’t in the handbag anymore.  Assuming it was a real gun, how quickly could Mrs Rudd get hold of it if Natalie tried something funny?  And how much damage could it do if it went off unexpectedly?

They arrived at Alex’s door, just across the hall from Natalie’s.  Mrs Rudd looked at her expectantly.  “Well?” she asked, after a few seconds had gone by.

“I told you.  I don’t have a key for his room.”

Mrs Rudd exploded.  “Use your own key!  Your own key!  They’re all the same in places like this!”

Obediently, Natalie took her own key out of her pocket.  She knew it wasn’t going to work, but she tried it anyway.  And she kept her eyes focused on the key and the lock, because she knew if she looked around and saw Mrs Rudd’s hand disappear into her handbag again she might actually lose her mind.

After a few tries, Natalie heard an angry, snorting groan from behind her.  “For fuck’s sake!  Move!”  And she elbowed Natalie aside so that she could try rattling the key in the lock herself.

The bag was still under her arm, squeezed between her ribcage and her elbow.  There was no chance for Natalie to snatch it.

Eventually, Mrs Rudd let out another groan, and turned around, leaving Natalie’s key stuck in the lock.  “There’ll be a spare key downstairs.  Move.”

Natalie followed her back down the stairs.  “I don’t think we’ve got…”
Mrs Rudd whirled around to face her.  “How about you stop talking and listen for a change?  Hmm?”  Then she turned back round and headed for the kitchen.

Natalie didn’t know why she thought the hypothetical spare key was going to be in one of the food cupboards, but apparently she did.  Mrs Rudd ransacked them, opening them wide and throwing all the cans and packets she found onto the floor behind her.  “Look at this!” she snapped, waving a multi-pack of Haribo Starmix in Natalie’s face, “Are you honestly going to tell me this is how a mature person lives his life?”

“That’s not Alex’s,” said Natalie.  Isaac had bought it from Tesco yesterday, so that they could share.

“I should just accept the fact that he’s never going to grow up, shouldn’t I?”  She threw the Haribo packets down.  “I mean, I get a letter from Berrylands University telling me he’s getting expelled for drugs.  First I heard of it!  First I heard that he was even at Berrylands University!”

Natalie couldn’t talk for a moment.  “Expelled for drugs.”  So that’s why he vanished into thin air.  That’s why he started writing weird messages on the wall.  That’s why…

Wait.

Alex was twenty-three.  Why would the university write to his mother, even if he was getting expelled?  All of Natalie’s post had been addressed to her, not her parents.  Even the Conditional Offers, and she’d still been seventeen when some of those had come through.  Wasn’t that how universities worked?

Who do you think’s paying for this, the fucking tooth fairy?

First I heard that he was even at Berrylands University!

If she hadn’t known he was at Berrylands, then she couldn’t have been paying his tuition.  And it couldn’t have just been a case of her sneakily reading his letters after he’d given her house as an alternative postal address, or she’d have read other letters from the university before.  “Where did you think he was?” asked Natalie.

“I had no idea!  He threw me away as soon as he didn’t need me anymore!”  Her face hardened into a tight scowl.  “That’s what your generation does, right?  Everything’s disposable.”

Natalie mumbled something noncommittal.

Mrs Rudd fidgeted with the cupboards for a few more seconds, then suddenly turned back to Natalie, her face lighting up with inspiration.  “You know, even if we can’t find a spare key, I bet we could break the door down.  The two of us together.”

Right.  Because I’m on your side all of a sudden.  “I… really don’t think that’s a good idea.”
 Mrs Rudd reached out and grabbed Natalie’s arm just below her bicep, digging her fingers in like one little kid trying to intimidate another.  “We’re doing it.  Come on.”
They went back upstairs, Mrs Rudd talking all the while.  “He’s barely matured since he was seven years old.  They only thing he’s leaned is how to manipulate people better.  He’s manipulated you into being a human shield for him, if you’d just wake up and see it.”

Natalie said nothing.  She was thinking about something else.   If the university didn’t send her the letter, who did?

Actually, how sure am I that there even was a letter?  Maybe she imagined it.  Maybe she just needed an excuse to barge into her son’s house with a fake gun.

Probably fake.

They reached Alex’s door again.  “Right,” said Mrs Rudd, “We kick that spot at the exact same time.”  She pointed to a spot just to the left of the doorknob.  “The exact same time, understand?”

Natalie mumbled something.

“Right.”  Mrs Rudd took a step back, and pulled Natalie with her.  “Three…  Two…  One!”

It didn’t work.  Natalie’s foot hit the door a second or two before Mrs Rudd’s, and before she could put her foot down, Mrs Rudd stumbled and barged into her side, knocking Natalie against the wall.  She braced her arms against it and straightened herself up.  If I’d hit my head and been knocked out just then, she’d have had no-one left to threaten.  Maybe she’d have got bored and left.

They gave it another try.  There was less stumbling this time, but that was pretty much the only improvement.  They were about three seconds apart this time, and the door creaked a bit but didn’t budge.  Mrs Rudd rounded on Natalie.  “You might as well not even be here!”

Natalie had no idea what to say to that.  I might as well not even be part of this home invasion.  People expect more co-operation in these things.

“This might seem like a silly game to you, nut it’s real life to me!”  Mrs Rudd shoved her.  “Would you treat your own mother like this?  Are you that heartless?”  She gave her another shove.  “Answer me!”  She shoved again, and Natalie’s head hit the doorframe.

Her first instinct was to grab her head and curse until the pain faded.  Instead of doing that, she shut her eyes and let herself drop to the floor.

It was impulsive and it was a serious gamble, but now that Natalie had done it she had no choice but to see it through to the end.  She lay perfectly still as Mrs Rudd snapped at her to get up.  She lay perfectly still as Mrs Rudd crouched down and shook her.  She even stayed perfectly still as Mrs Rudd slapped her cheeks to try and shock her awake.  She’d made this stupid decision, and now she had to tough it out and turn it into a smart one.

Natalie heard the floorboards creak as Mrs Rudd got to her feet, and then a scared whimper of, “Oh God, oh God…”

Scared, not angry, she told herself, That’s a good sign.

Yeah, until she decides to burn the house down around you to get rid of the evidence.  Or to shoot you in the head and make it look like a burglary gone wrong.

Natalie stayed still, and she listened.

Mrs Rudd stayed there for a few minutes of short, whiny breaths.  After that, Natalie heard retreating footsteps across the hallway and down the stairs.

Natalie didn’t dare open her eyes until a full minute after she heard the door slam.  That was how long it took to be sure that Mrs Rudd was definitely gone and this wasn’t some kind of trick- Natalie could see her slamming the door and hiding in the house, but she couldn’t see her staying quiet this long.  It was safe.  The coast was clear.

Natalie sat up slowly, in case it turned out she really did have concussion.  When she was upright and her head didn’t feel like it was swimming, she got to her feet.

Her phone was in her room.  She’d call the police first, then try and get hold of the others.  They would not be happy when they saw the state of the kitchen.  Natalie could only hope that…

Something was wrong.  Natalie knew it was soon as she stood up.  There was a ray of light coming from behind her that hadn’t been there before.

Natalie turned around, and saw Alex’s door hanging open.  That last thump must have done the trick.  Mrs Rudd must have been panicking too much to notice.

There was enough of a gap for her to see inside.  Enough to see that Alex wasn’t still in there, slumped on the bed or hanging from the ceiling.  She hadn’t even known that she’d been worried about that until right this moment, but the relief was so sharp it was almost painful.

Part of her wanted to turn around and respect Alex’s privacy, but a lower, nastier part said, Well, Alex should have thought about that before running off, shouldn’t he?

Alex’s room had the same bed, wardrobe and desk as all the others in the house, and he hadn’t brought in any extra furniture, so it wouldn’t be too hard to search.  Natalie opened the wardrobe (you pressed the door in for two seconds and then released it, just like hers), and saw that it was only half-full.  A quick check of the floors revealed only one pair of shoes, a battered pair of sandals she’d never seen him wear.

That was a good sign.  People who snuck off to commit suicide probably didn’t pack their clothes before they did it.

Natalie checked the desk drawers.  No phone, no wallet, no laptop.  No drug paraphernalia, either, so odds were good that Mrs Rudd had been talking out of her arse.  On the windowsill were a few figures carved out of jade.  They looked as if they were meant to be little animals- the Chinese Zodiac, maybe?- but she didn’t dare to pick them up for a closer look.  They looked quite fragile.

She turned round and noticed the wastepaper basket.  It was actually full of paper, like it was supposed to be.  Natalie’s mainly just had crisp packets and used cotton buds, but Alex seemed to have got through a ream or two of A4.

She went over and picked out a crumpled ball of paper from the top.  That was another thing- Alex had crumpled them all, but he didn’t seem to have torn any of them up.  Natalie unfolded the ball, smoothing it out as well as she could, and saw that it was something Alex had printed from the internet.  One of those useless sheets you got at the end of whatever it was you actually wanted to print off, the kind with a few stray words or the copyright information on it that usually amounted to just a waste of ink.

But this time, Natalie noticed something interesting about it.  The date at the bottom was the Thursday before last, and on the top, near the website information, was a little logo reading, Travellodge Brighton.