identity. They’ll keep who you really are a secret.’
‘Like now, you mean? Like you said they would this time?’ The boy had moved against the wall. Leo remained two paces away but Daniel acted as though cornered, driven back by a press of hostility.
‘This is different, I prom—’ Leo stopped himself. ‘It’s different. No one can overturn it this time.’ You’re lying, said a voice: half Daniel’s, half his own. You’re doing exactly what you did before. Just because you hope something is true, doesn’t make it any less of a lie.
Daniel, anyway, did not believe him. He was shaking his head, dislodging his tears in the process.
‘You didn’t hear him. The judge, what he said. If you’d been there, you would’ve heard him. They hate me. Everyone does.’
Again Leo reached out. He could not stop himself. Daniel recoiled and Leo’s hand swung to his side.
‘Not everyone hates you.’ Again the voice but he ignored it. Better to lie, surely. Better to give the boy something approximating hope. ‘They don’t understand, that’s all. They’re angry and they’re upset and they’re looking for…’ Blood, was the word that came to mind. ‘… for someone to blame. What you did was an awful thing, Daniel. You do understand that, don’t you?’
The boy, a mess of snot and tears, nodded. He sniffed, wiped his nose on his sleeve.
‘And when someone does something awful, other people, they… they get angry. They get so angry, sometimes, they forget about the other things that matter. Like understanding. Like compassion. Like forgiveness.’
‘I said I was sorry! They didn’t believe me! But I am! I really really am!’
‘I know. I know you are. And they’ll listen. In time. The hurt will fade and… and…’ The hurt will fade. To whom was he lying this time? ‘The important thing, Daniel, is for you to get help. Karen. You remember Karen? She wants to help you. She’s determined to. And there are other people like her. Kind people, not…’ Not what?
The boy was shaking.
‘You need to let them help. That’s important too. You need to trust these people, Daniel. Karen especially.’
‘She was there! I saw her! She didn’t say anything! I thought you said she was gonna say something!’
‘I know but it’s… it’s complicated. She—’
‘And you! I trusted
Leo looked down, away. He caught Garrie, the security guard, watching. Leo had forgotten he was in the room. Neither man held the other’s eye. There was just the sound, in that moment, of Daniel crying and trying not to.
‘What’ll happen now?’ the boy managed to say. ‘Where will they send me?’
Leo pressed his lips, shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Stash, one of the older boys: they sent him to prison. Last week. Proper prison. With murderers and that.’
‘He was eighteen. Grown up. Didn’t you tell me that? You’re twelve, Daniel. They’ll send you somewhere like here. Not a prison but a…’ Leo shook his head again. The semantics, once again, failed him.
‘But I’ll
Leo hesitated, then nodded, as fractionally as he could manage. Even such a minor affirmation, though, was enough. The boy seemed to wither. He let out something between a moan and a wail.
This time when Leo reached, Daniel allowed himself to be enfolded. The boy pressed his face to Leo’s chest and gripped with an intensity that belied his narrow frame. Leo, in turn, wrapped his arms around the boy’s shoulders, encircling them easily. Daniel was Ellie-sized, Leo realised: just as meagre, just as fragile. ‘Shh,’ he said, ‘hush now,’ and, thinking of the last time he had held his daughter, he had to stop himself from clinging too tight.
Bobby was waiting for him in the corridor. That he had been watching, listening, seemed unlikely but the expression he wore – apprehension, tenderness; mainly sorrow – would no doubt have been the same if he had.
‘He’ll be grateful,’ Bobby said. ‘When he gets a chance to think about it, he’ll realise he was glad you came.’
Leo said nothing. He wiped an eye.
‘I’ll walk with you,’ Bobby said. ‘Shall I?’
This time Leo nodded. They fell into step.
Leo cleared his throat. ‘Have his parents been? His mother?’
Bobby inhaled, nodded on the out breath. ‘They came. They weren’t here long. She… Mrs Blake… She seemed to take it hard. The stepfather too, in his way.’
They reached a set of doors, negotiated them awkwardly. For several paces afterwards they walked in silence.
‘What about Daniel?’ Leo asked. ‘How long will he stay here?’
Bobby drew his lips sideways. ‘As long as they let him. Not long, probably. Not once the Home Secretary makes up his mind and they draw up a sentence plan. But it was only ever a stopgap, as you know. We’re not really set up for boys as young as Daniel.’
Leo sniffed. ‘Is anywhere?’
Bobby turned slightly, as though deliberating whether to take offence on his peers’ behalf. ‘There are some good institutions around, Mr Curtice. All things considered.’
‘All things considered?’
Bobby shrugged. ‘Facilities like ours don’t tend to be a priority. In terms of funding, I mean. We’re up there in government minds with asylum seekers and single mothers. Down there, rather.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me.’
‘No. I don’t suppose it does. But we do okay. We do, others do. It helps when you get the right people. You’ll find, actually, that boys of Daniel’s age receive the best care of all. It’s only as they get older, turn into adults, that sometimes they… I mean, it’s inevitable really that at some point they’re…’
‘Set adrift.’
Bobby glanced.
They walked on.
‘He’s scared, you know,’ said Leo. ‘Terrified, actually.’
Bobby nodded. Both men watched the floor as it passed beneath their feet.
‘Is he right to be, do you think?’ Leo regretted the question almost as he finished asking it. He shook it off. ‘Don’t answer that. It was a stupid thing to ask.’
They passed through another set of doors and found themselves in the main lobby. They slowed, then stopped alongside the security desk.
Bobby exhaled audibly. He seemed actually to be considering Leo’s question. ‘You never know,’ he said, finally settling on his answer. ‘He’s due a little luck, wouldn’t you say?’
He was, that much was certain. And, possibly, he would encounter some. But that Bobby could think of nothing more encouraging to say did nothing to give Leo hope.
Bobby held out his hand. Leo took it.
‘Listen. Mr Curtice. About your daughter. I just wanted to say…’
But Bobby got no further. He seemed to realise that Leo was no longer paying attention. Leo was looking, instead, across Bobby’s shoulder, at the two guards chuckling now behind the desk. The younger man, lank-haired and wispy-chinned, and with a complexion that suggested he worked too many night shifts, had said something that had made his older, fatter colleague laugh. And Leo had heard every word.
‘You.’ He let his hand slip from Bobby’s and moved beyond him, towards the desk. ‘What did you say?’
The guards looked up. They were seated, chairs drawn together, but they rolled apart slightly as Leo edged closer. The younger man swallowed.
‘Say it again,’ Leo said. ‘What you just said.’ He reached the counter and peered across it. On the surface, spread between the two guards and two empty coffee mugs, was a copy of the morning’s
