they'd lock themselves in the study while they talked. The only time Dad wasn't serious with him was when it was Christmas and Uncle Stewart came around with presents for Robbie and his parents. He always brought really good presents. Expensive ones.
'That's my mum!' Robbie shouted.
'That's my fucking mum!'
'Robbie .. .' said his mother, pleadingly.
'Shit, shit, shit!' said Sharkey, holding his hands over his eyes and banging the back of his head against the pillow.
Robbie's mother wrapped the duvet around herself and twisted around to face him.
'Robbie, this isn't ' 'It is!' he screamed.
'I know what it is! I can see what you're doing! I'm not stupid.'
Robbie's mother stood up, and the man grabbed a pillow and held it over his groin.
'What are we going to do?' he asked.
Robbie's mother ignored him. She took a step towards Robbie, but he moved backwards, holding his hands up as if trying to ward her off.
'Don't come near me!' he yelled.
'Robbie. I'm sorry.'
'Dad's going to kill you. He's going to kill both of you!'
'Robbie, it was an accident.'
Robbie pointed at her.
'I'm not stupid, Mum. I know what you're doing. I'm going to tell Dad.'
'Vicky, for God's sake, do something!' hissed Sharkey.
Vicky turned to him.
'Stay out of this, Stewart.'
'Just handle it, will you?'
Robbie backed out of the bedroom and rushed down the hallway. His mother hurried after him.
'Robbie! Robbie, come back here!'
Robbie stumbled at the top of the stairs and his hands flailed out for balance. His sports bag swung between his legs and he fell forward, his mouth working soundlessly, panic overwhelming him.
Vicky ran into the hallway just in time to see her son pitch headlong down the stairs. She screamed and let the duvet slip from her fingers.
Robbie banged down the stairs in a series of sickening thumps.
'Robbie, no!' yelled Vicky, as she rushed towards the top of the stairs. Behind her, Sharkey called out, wanting to know what was wrong.
The hallway seemed as if it were telescoping away from Vicky as she ran. She couldn't see Robbie, but she could hear the thuds as he tumbled down. Thump. Thump. Thump. What horrified Vicky was Robbie's silence as he fell. No groans, or shouts or curses. Just the gut-wrenching thumps. Then silence. The silence was a million times worse than the sound of the fall.
Vicky reached the top of the stairs. Robbie was lying at the bottom, face down, his head turned to the side. There was blood on his mouth. Vicky felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach and she put a hand against the wall to steady herself.
'Please, God, don't let this be happening,' she whispered.
She hurried down the stairs two at a time and crouched next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.
'Robbie, love? Robbie?' His chest moved as he took a breath, and Vicky said a silent prayer of thanks.
Robbie's eyes flickered open.
'Robbie, love, are you all right?' Vicky asked.
His face screwed up into a snarl.
'Don't touch me!'
'Robbie, love 'Get off me,' he said.
'I saw you. I saw what you were doing.'
'Robbie .. .'
He pushed her away and got to his feet. He wiped his mouth and stared at the blood on his hand.
'You look ridiculous,' he said.
Vicky realised that she was naked and she moved her hands to cover her crotch.
'I hate you,' said Robbie.
Sharkey appeared at the top of the stairs, buttoning his shirt.
'Has he calmed down?'
Robbie pointed up at Sharkey.
'My dad's going to kill you!' he shouted venomously.
'Robbie,' said Vicky, 'please don't say that.'
She reached out to touch him but Robbie hit her hand away.
'And you!' he shouted.
Sharkey started downstairs.
'There's no need to be stupid, Robbie,' he said.
Robbie backed away.
Vicky looked over her shoulder.
'Stewart, leave this to me. Please.'
'If he says anything to Den .. .'
'Shut the hell up!' she shouted.
'I'm just saying .. .'
'Don't say,' she yelled.
'Don't say anything. You've caused enough .. .' Before she finished the sentence she heard Robbie fumbling with the lock on the front door.
'Robbie!' she shouted.
'Robbie, come back.'
She dashed towards the door but Robbie was too quick for her. He pulled the door open, slipped out and slammed it behind him. Vicky scrabbled at the lock, but by the time she got the door open Robbie was already sprinting along the pavement. The strength drained from Vicky's legs and she slumped to the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Sharkey walked slowly down the stairs, buttoning the cuffs of his shirt.
'Shit,' he said quietly.
'What are we going to do now?'
The wind blowing off the Caribbean Sea tugged at Den Donovan's hair and flicked it across his eyes. He brushed it away and shaded his eyes with the flat of his hand. The waves of the turquoise sea were flecked with white and Donovan could taste the salt on his lips.
'Thought I might get a boat, Carlos,' he mused, staring out across the water.
'What do you think?'
Carlos Rodriguez shrugged.
'I always get seasick,' he said.
'I was thinking a big boat. Stabilisers and that. Save me flying between the islands. I could travel with style.'
'I still get sick,' said Rodriguez.
Donovan started walking down the beach, his sandals digging into the sand. In the distance a line of loungers were shaded by pink and green striped umbrellas. Rodriguez hurried after him.
Donovan looked across at the road to his right. Barry Doyle was leaning against Donovan's silver-grey Mercedes, his arms folded across his massive chest. Doyle gave Donovan the merest hint of a nod, letting him know that everything was clear on the road. Donovan looked over his shoulder. The nearest person was a hundred yards away, and that was an obese woman in a too-small bikini, who was paddling with her toddler son and yelling at him
