a state and climbed in her bed. My sister, Lauren, heard about it and didn’t stop ribbing me for about a week.’
‘Your sister?’ Junior said, surprised.
‘I mean cousin,’ James said, nervously covering his mistake. ‘It was the summer holidays and Lauren was staying at our house.’
‘Ringo used to tease me when I was little,’ Junior said. ‘I’d ask him to put on my Pingu video and he’d stick on The Terminator to scare me.’
‘We better go to bed,’ James said, as he picked his boxing gloves off the sand and slid his wet feet inside his trainers. ‘I’m looking forward to the air-boat ride tomorrow.’
‘We never usually do half the cool stuff we’ve done this week,’ Junior said. ‘My dad really likes you for some reason.’
James thought Keith was spoiling them because he was planning to disappear in a few days and would most likely never see Junior again. As they walked towards the house in their dripping shorts, Junior turned around and started walking backwards, staring at the moonlit sea.
‘Just think,’ he said, spreading his arms out wide. ‘If you count the time difference between here and London, in less than three days’ time we’ll be getting up for another miserable Monday at Grey Park school.’
‘Cheer us up, why don’t you?’ James said. ‘Is your eye OK now?’
‘Stings a bit,’ Junior said. ‘I wish we could have had a proper fight.’
James clambered on to the wooden decking at the back of the house and put his foot inside the sliding door. His trainer slipped in something wet. He rested his palm on the wall to steady himself. The light was on in the kitchen and George’s body had rolled off the sofa on the floor.
‘Something’s going on,’ James said edgily.
Junior grinned. ‘What is it, the axe murderer?’
‘I’m serious,’ James said, lifting his trainer out of the sticky liquid.
He felt like his head was going to explode when he realised it was blood.
‘Give over, James,’ Junior said. ‘You’re not scaring me.’
Junior stepped through the door and noticed George on the floor.
‘He really did fall off the sofa,’ Junior laughed.
James crouched down and clicked on a table lamp. Junior saw George was dead, realised his trainers were planted in a puddle of blood and let out a massive scream.
30. BODY
James was still haunted by the cold touch of his mother’s fingers the night he found her dead in front of the TV. George’s body didn’t affect him the same way, though the sight was more horrible. There was blood seeping from a bullet wound under his shirt. It was draining down a hanging arm and along the joins in the floor tiles, creating a grid of red lines leading to the pool of blood by the sliding doors.
James felt like everything was happening in slow motion. He could feel every vibration in Junior’s screams and watch the droplets of saliva spraying out of his mouth.
James had a theory: Keith had shot George for betraying him, then disappeared. But the theory sprang apart as he crept across the room and stared down the hallway through the half-open kitchen door. Three armed men had Keith Moore pinned on a stool at the breakfast bar. It looked like they’d roughed him up.
‘Leave the boys,’ Keith shouted when he heard Junior scream. ‘I’ll tell you everything.’
James knew he only had milliseconds before one of the men beating up Keith came out of the kitchen pointing a gun at him and Junior. He turned back to Junior, who stood rigid in the doorway, staring at George’s body.
‘Run,’ James shouted. ‘Get help.’
Junior snapped out of his panic long enough to hear the order. He jumped off the wooden decking and began sprinting down the beach. James hoped he’d have the sense to run to one of the neighbouring houses and call the police.
James planned to follow Junior, but a thuggish-looking guy emerged from the kitchen before he got the chance. James could see tattoos through the sweat-drenched vest clinging to his skin.
‘Get here, kid,’ he shouted, sliding out the pistol tucked into his jeans.
James burst through the nearest door, into the front living-room where Keith kept his hi-fi and record collection.
‘Hey,’ the man shouted furiously. ‘You wanna mess with me? I’ll kill you before you reach the door.’
He sounded Mexican or something. James didn’t know what the men wanted from Keith, but they’d shown they were prepared to kill and he didn’t fancy being their next victim. He thought about climbing out of the window, but the