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“Sod off,” Robbie grumbled, heading to the bucket where he kept balls of clay.

“No, no, you’re the one who invited me on this adventure,” Tillman said, laughing. “I just want to be prepared. What kind of gear should I bring anyhow? I have a lovely studded leather thong you might be interested in.”

Robbie ignored him, shaking his head. He had no idea what had possessed him to cause so much trouble for himself. He just hoped it wouldn’t destroy things for the family, or for his peace of mind.

EIGHT

Everything linedup perfectly for Toby to travel to Staffordshire with Robbie. A large part of him wished it hadn’t. He’d hoped someone from the office would have objected and said he was needed in London, or that spending two nights in some posh hotel with a member of the family he was assessing was a conflict of interest. Then he could have backed out of what he was certain would be a nightmare.

But his boss had hardly blinked when he’d explained the plan to drive all the way to Staffordshire for three days. He’d all but rubber-stamped the trip, like it didn’t matter to him whether Toby was in the office, at Hawthorne House, in Staffordshire, or on Mars. He was simply told to record his expenses for reimbursement, and given an obscenely low ceiling of money he was allowed to be reimbursed for, and told to have a good time.

“I’d like a bit of a holiday in the country,” Toby’s sister, Gerry, said from where she was pacing in a small circle on one side of his family’s front room, bouncing her ten-month-old son, Tommy, who was fussing up a storm. “I’d like a holiday to anywhere right now.”

Toby laughed as he checked through his weekend bag one last time where it sat on the arm of a recliner closer to the door. “This isn’t going to be much of a holiday,” he told Gerry. “It’s more like three days of torture.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Gerry said. She made a face at Toby, but that melted into a smile when Toby glanced her way. “Any trip away from here is a good one.”

“Here’s not so bad.” Toby left his bag and crossed the room, stepping over his niece, Gracie’s scattering of dolls, which earned a yelp of protest from Gracie, and went to pluck Tommy out of his sister’s arms.

“Ha!” Gerry laughed sharply, then stretched her back and rolled her shoulders after carrying Tommy around for so long. “How ‘bout you stay here with Mum and the kids and I’ll go to the country for you.”

Toby laughed, but didn’t reply. He was too busy swinging Tommy lightly in his arms and making airplane noises in an attempt to calm his nephew down.

Here really wasn’t so bad, as far as he was concerned. Sure, the house was a mess, none of the furniture matched, and there was still a big, white square on the wall from where one of the family photos had fallen and shattered when Tommy’s deadbeat dad had come ‘round to try to extort money from Gracie and she’d thrown a shoe at him and missed. The carpet definitely needed replacing, and there were more toys on it than cleared areas. The telly always seemed to be blaring too loudly, and someone had burnt something in the kitchen earlier, giving the whole place a smell of smoke. But it was home.

“What’s the matter, bubs?” Toby cooed, straightening Tommy and holding him closer. “You angry that your Uncle Tobes is going away for a few days?”

Gracie dragged her attention away from whatever inane cartoon on the telly she’d been glued to and glanced up at Toby. “Where are you going, Uncle Toby?”

“If I said I was going to fairyland, would you believe me?” Toby asked in return.

“No!” Gracie laughed, like the idea was ridiculous.

“Well, I am,” Toby told her, rubbing Tommy’s back, since he’d finally calmed down.

“Can I come! Can I come!” Gracie leapt up and kicked her way through her toys to throw her arms around Toby’s leg.

“Nope,” Toby said, reaching a hand down to stroke her soft, curly hair. “No girls allowed.”

“That’s not fair,” Gracie shrieked, then proceeded to grab Toby’s hand and wrist and hang all her weight off his arm.

Toby was lucky Gracie was small for a four-year-old and light. He was able to lift her off the floor and swing her a bit, even though he held Tommy in his other arm. Gracie laughed and gazed adoringly up at him. Tommy had stopped fussing and flailed his arms with what passed for a drooly smile.

“God, they’ve got you wrapped ‘round their little fingers,” Gerry said, shuffling to the sofa, then flopping down to rest.

“I’m just getting on their good side while they’re young so I can put them to work later,” Toby said, chuckling at Gracie’s antics.

His family might not have been posh and pretty, like the Hawthornes, but they were just as special, as far as Toby was concerned. And sure, Gracie and Tommy had different fathers, neither of whom Gerry had ever even considered marrying, sure, his brother Mike hadn’t checked in with the family in days and was probably up to no good, his dad would be living at His Majesty’s pleasure for another ten years, and his mum was in serious danger of developing diabetes, but that didn’t mean theyloved each other any less than someone who lived on a fancy estate in a grand house.

“What’s all this noise in here?” his mum asked, coming into the front room from the kitchen at the back, carrying a plate of biscuits with her. When she saw Toby, she asked, “You still here? Haven’t run off an found a place of your own yet?”

“I’m still here, Mum.”

It was a long-standing joke between the two of them, but one with real worry behind it. Toby’s mum lived in constant fear that the one of her children who had a chance to break the cycle and get out of the misfortune the rest of them seemed destined to would do something to wreck the chances he’d been handed and end up like his dad or Mike.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, letting Gracie go so she could grab a biscuit as his mum handed the plate off to Gerry.

He stepped over and kissed his mum’s cheek.

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