and sacks of vegetables were piled beneath. Sacha Tarasov had pale skin, rounded features and a Garfield apron knotted around an ample waist.
‘I think your brother is upstairs, with Leon,’ Sacha said, giving James a friendly grin. She fixed her eyes on Max and used the more severe voice that parents reserve for their own offspring. ‘Get these boys something to drink, then fetch me down a frozen stew. And shoes off in the house.’
Max poured three glasses of Coke, which the boys carried upstairs after ditching their trainers in the hallway. The patterned wallpaper, zigzag carpets and exuberant paintings of wild animals on the staircase seemed to be locked in a battle to see who was the gaudiest. There were piles of folded laundry and boxed electrical goods stacked against the walls.
Although everything was tacky, James appreciated the overall effect. It was the kind of home that’s full of people, smells and noise; where everything is a little shabby and you immediately feel comfortable.
‘Here’s why I say my mum’s a nutter,’ Max grinned, as he led James and Charlie into a box room at the top of the staircase.
It was Leon Tarasov’s study. There was a desk mounded in paperwork and a faux-antique swivel chair, but it also contained the largest chest freezer James had seen outside of a frozen-food store. Max raised the lid, revealing half lambs, pork loins and a mass of homemade meals in plastic tubs. Each tub was labelled by hand in Russian script, and James was pleasantly surprised to find that the limited understanding of the language he’d picked up at CHERUB enabled him to read most of them.
‘You could eat for a year out of this lot,’ Charlie gasped. ‘All we’ve got in the freezer round my house are chicken nuggets and ice cream.’
‘At least you’ve got a freezer,’ James said.
‘I tell you what, James,’ Max said. ‘If you and your brother ever get hungry, just ask my mum. She loves giving food away, as long as you wash up the dish before you bring it back.’
Max crunched the solid lumps of food around until he found a circular Pyrex dish filled with frozen beef stew.
‘You two might as well go through to the living-room,’ Max said. ‘I’ll take this down to my mum.’
The Tarasovs all slept in the flat next door, so they’d knocked two of the upstairs bedrooms together to make a giant living-room. James’ sock got swallowed in shaggy turquoise carpet as he stepped in.
Dave was in one corner, sitting on the arm of a sofa alongside eighteen-year-old Pete. Sonya sat on the opposite side of the room pretending not to know Dave, while Liza was curled up on a rug in front of the TV. Liza looked happy to see Charlie, who sat cross-legged on the floor next to her like a regular member of the family.
‘You must be James,’ Leon Tarasov said, reaching out his hairy hand. His accent was east London, with barely a hint of his Russian heritage.
Leon was a huge fat man, with a bald head and a line in chunky gold jewellery. James had to step around the side of Leon’s fully reclined armchair and reach over his giant belly to shake hands.
Leon burrowed into his shirt pocket and stripped out a twenty-pound note. ‘Here.’
‘What’s that for?’ James grinned.
‘Bounty,’ Leon said. ‘A tenner for every Grosvenor Estate yobbo you lay out. If I had my way, I’d go over there with some baseball bats and sort out the bastard lot of ’em.’
‘Jesus, Dad,’ Sonya said angrily. ‘You’re a total fascist.’
Leon shot an evil glance back at his daughter. ‘Shouldn’t you be out in a dinghy, saving whales with all the other hippies?’
He pressed a button on his armchair, making his giant body whirr electronically into an upright position.
‘Pete and Leon have been absolute stars, James,’ Dave said enthusiastically. ‘I couldn’t get my car started this morning, so Pete came down to take a look at it. Leon says he knows a scrap dealer who can get me a good deal on a compressor for the air-con and a couple of the other bits I need to get the car sorted.’
‘I thought we were broke,’ James said. ‘I mean, we need the money we’ve got left for food and furniture.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Leon said. ‘I’ve known this dealer for years. He’ll charge me pennies. So I’ll get the parts and you can use my lot to fix up the car. In return, Dave’s gonna