A Place of Safety

She touched his thumb with her own. ‘You had no choice, Jack.’

He nodded. ‘Doesn’t make it any easier, though, does it?’

‘He was out of control,’ she said. ‘Anyone could see that.’

He gave a doubtful shrug.

‘Seriously, Jack, I was bloody terrified.’

They sat in silence while Lilly racked her brain for something positive to say. How did you make someone who had just killed a child feel any better about themselves?

‘At least the press haven’t got wind of it,’ she said.

‘And how long do you think that will last?’

‘They can’t criticise you, Jack,’ she said.

He shrugged. She understood Jack well enough to know he didn’t care less what the newspapers might say. He had spent the night asking himself what he could have done differently. Hadn’t she been asking herself the same question about her conversation with Artan?

‘What happens now?’ she said.

‘Got to get back to the station,’ he said. ‘More questions, more reports.’

‘Then what?’

‘I’ll be suspended pending the outcome of the investigation.’

‘That doesn’t seem right.’

‘I did shoot someone, Lilly’

‘He would have killed you,’ she said. ‘Or maybe me, or maybe Sam.’

Jack scratched his chin, his nails making a rasping sound against the stubble. ‘It’s standard procedure, and I’m on full pay so it’s not all bad.’

Lilly knew he was playing it down and felt obliged to join in. ‘You won’t know what to do with yourself.’

‘I’ll take up a hobby,’ he said.

‘I hear stamp collecting’s fun.’

He gave her a wink. ‘Or you could keep me busy.’

She pulled him towards her by his lapels and kissed him with greasy lips. ‘I’ll tell you what you can do for me.’

‘Is it dirty?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ she said. ‘You can start by fixing my dishwasher’

‘Miss Valentine?’

Lilly and Jack looked up. A man in his mid-twenties stood in the doorway and fixed them with the greenest eyes Lilly had ever seen. They were beautiful yet startling in their intensity.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m looking for Lilly Valentine.’

Lilly was mesmerised.

‘Lilly?’ said Jack, one eyebrow raised.

She coughed. ‘Yes. That’s me.’

The man moved towards her, hand outstretched. She took it in her own, felt the cool smoothness of it.

‘And you are?’ said Jack.

‘Milo,’ said the man, still holding Lilly’s hand and her gaze.

‘And what can we do for you today, Milo?’ asked Jack.

‘I need to speak with Miss Valentine.’ He didn’t even glance in Jack’s direction. ‘In private.’

‘So, Milo,’ said Lilly. ‘How can I help you?’

‘I work with the residents at Hounds Place.’ He spoke with the deep clipped tones of an Eastern European.

‘Social services?’

He shook his head, hair falling into his eyes.

‘I’m a volunteer,’ he said. ‘I offer advice, and help with the language. A shoulder to lean on, I think you call it.’

‘I see,’ she said. But in truth she didn’t.

He opened his arms as if to explain. ‘When I came here there was no one to help. No one to explain. And so.’

And so, thought Lilly, this strange and dazzling man did what he could for those that needed it the most.

‘What is it you need me to do?’ she asked.

‘Charles Stanton is dead.’

‘Shit.’

‘Anna Duraku is at the police station.’

‘The girl up at the school?’

Milo gave a single nod.