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went to check the box was still in my bedroom where I put it. I felt guilty for even thinking about suspecting her. I thought the world of Teagan and now...’

‘Right, then and...?’ Robert’s impatience bubbled. This was not right. This was not how it was. His mother had given the box to Teagan to look after. She was lying again...

‘My worst fears were realised when it wasn’t in my room.’ Dulcie waved her hands in the air. ‘I knew then that she’d taken it and planned to steal it. Even then I sat for another hour before I could face proving myself right. And that’s when you came back, just as I found it. I still can’t believe it!’

‘It still doesn’t explain why she hasn’t taken it with her,’ Robert mumbled.

Dulcie’s eyes narrowed. ‘She must be planning on returning for it. She must still be with her boyfriend.’

Robert nodded. ‘Yes, I guess you must be right.’ Except Teagan wasn’t with her boyfriend, as his mother succinctly put it. Neither had she taken any of her clothes. Teagan hadn’t planned on doing a bunk at all and according to the ‘boyfriend’, she’d left the wake with a man...

Despite his dislike of the man, Robert believed that Darren hadn’t seen her since the funeral. But what he didn’t believe was that Darren knew Teagan beforehand. Since the man’s uncertainty at the funeral as to where he’d been to school – the school Teagan had attended, Robert had done his own digging. He wasn’t a computer expert for nothing and quickly discovered that no one with the name ‘Darren Harding’ had ever been to Teagan’s school.

Why the man had lied was a mystery. Was Darren Harding some kind of con-man? ‘We should call the police.’

‘Oh no, Robert! Please don’t do that! I can’t bear those people all over the place again. Is it not bad enough that I’ve had weeks of that already because of Helen? I just want to get back to normal.’

‘But if Teagan has done what you say, then you should press charges,’ Robert snarled. His mother was lying. Like it seemed she always did.

Dulcie clutched the box tightly to her chest. ‘She hasn’t stolen this, thank God and that’s the main thing, but I don’t want her back in our lives.’ She looked up at her son, mistaking his grave expression as wrath for Teagan. ‘Please tell me you won’t allow her back into our lives. I’ve been let down enough and I can’t take any more.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it,’ Robert muttered, his mind whirring, unsure where even to start.

Teagan was in trouble and he had the creeping suspicion that his mother was something to do with it. He was worried. Very worried. He would need to find out where Teagan was and quickly because he had to know if she was the one to make him feel for real or whether what he’d experienced was a one-off fluke. If it was still present, then it was his to have.

Twenty Eight

JOE STARED AT THE PLATE IN FRONT OF HIM. He couldn’t recall making a fried egg sandwich, but he must have.

Lifting the top slice of bread, he poked the egg with his finger. His face screwed up. Was he losing the plot? Had he got to the point where he was so derelict to have no idea what he was doing? He couldn’t cope with going la-la on top of everything else. Or was his mind so taken up with other things that he was wandering around on auto-pilot? He suspected it to be the latter, but even so, didn’t like it.

Joe continued staring at the sandwich. It wasn’t like he was going to eat it. He felt too sick to even think about putting that in his mouth. The image of the greasy egg going round; bits sticking to the roof of his mouth caused his stomach to roll disturbingly.

Walking into the small kitchen, Dave eyed Joe as he pushed the plate across the table as far away as possible. ‘Not eating that?’ When Joe shook his head, Dave grinned. ‘I’ll have it then!’ Picking up the sandwich, he hurriedly stuffed it into his mouth.

Joe watched a gloop of brown sauce slide out of Dave’s mouth and quicky looked away, his guts churning. He couldn’t remember putting brown sauce on it either...

Dave sat down, the contents of his mouth visible as he spoke. ‘What’s the matter?’ Getting no response, he wiped the sauce off his chin with the back of his hand. ‘Oih! I’m talking to you! Why are you sitting there like a space cadet? You haven’t been on the weed already, have you?’

Joe shook his head. ‘No.’ At least he didn’t think so, but then again, he couldn’t remember getting up either. Either way, it wasn’t a bad idea. He could do with something to shut his head off.

‘Then what the bloody hell is wrong with you?’

Joe shrugged. ‘I didn’t get much sleep.’ That was rather an understatement. In reality, he didn’t think he’d had any.

‘I’d have thought you’d have slept like a log. We put a fair few away last night.’ Picking up the second half of the sandwich, Dave added a liberal helping of salt over the remaining part of the frazzled egg. He studied Joe suspiciously. ‘You were acting strangely yesterday as well.’

Joe sighed. The last thing he needed was Dave interrogating him. It wasn’t like he could say what was on his mind considering he hadn’t been honest about anything for some time. ‘I’m fine.’

Dave’s eyes narrowed. ‘You haven’t had any more grief off those psychos, have you? You said all of that was sorted out.’

‘Of course I haven’t,’ Joe snapped. Well, it was true. He hadn’t heard anything since he’d reported back to the nutter after the funeral. Such was his paranoia he’d even checked the burner phone first thing - that he did remember and there were no

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