The doors? Yes.'

'And the windows?'

'Yes.'

Brendan nodded. 'You're absolutely sure?'

'I told you, yes. What's wrong, Dad?'

'The rats.' said Brendan, his eyes scanning the landing behind Cal. 'I heard them all night. They came up the stairs, they did. Sat at the top of the stairs. I heard them. Size of cats they were. They sat there waiting for me to come out.'

'Well they're not here any longer.'

'Got in through the fence. Off the embankment. Dozens of them.'

'Why don't we go downstairs?' Cal suggested. 'I can make you some breakfast.'

'No. I'm not coming down. Not today.'

Then I'll make something and bring it up, shall I?' 'If you like.' said Brendan.

As Cal started down the stairs again, he heard his father lock and bolt the door once more.

2.

In the middle of the morning, a knock on the door. It was Mrs Vallance, whose house was opposite the Mooneys'.

'I was just passing.' she said, this fact belied by the slippers on her feet. 'I thought I'd see how your father was doing. He was very odd with the police, I heard. What did you do to your face?'

'I'm all right.'

'I had a very polite officer interview me.' .he woman said. 'He asked me .. .' she lowered her voice, '... if your father was unbalanced.'

Cal bit back a retort.

They wanted to talk to you too, of course.' she said.

'Well I'm here now.' said Cal. 'If they need me.'

'My boy Raymond said he saw you on the railway. Running off, he said.'

'Goodbye, Mrs Vallance.'

'And he's got good eyes has Raymond.'

'I said goodbye.' said Cal, and slammed the door in the woman's self-satisfied face.

3.

Her visit was not the last of the day; several people called to see that all was well. There was clearly much gossip in the street about the Mooney household. Perhaps some bright spark had realized that it had been the centre of the previous day's drama.

Every time there was a knock on the door, Cal expected to see Shadwell on the step. But apparently the Salesman had more urgent concerns than finishing the job he'd begun in the ruins of Shearman's house. Or perhaps he was simply waiting for more propitious stars.

Then, just after noon, while Cal was out at the loft feeding the birds, the telephone rang.

He raced inside and snatched it up. Even before she spoke Cal knew it was Suzanna.

'Where are you?'

She was breathless, and agitated.

'We have to get out of the city, Cal. They're after us.'

'Shadwell?'

'Not just Shadwell. The police.'

'Have you got the carpet?'

'Yes.'

'Well then tell me where you are. I'll come and -'

'I can't. Not on the 'phone.'

'It's not tapped, for God's sake.'

'Any bets?'

'I have to see you,' he said, somewhere between a request and a demand.

'Yes ...' she replied, her voice softening. 'Yes, of course .. .'

'How?'

There was a long silence. Then she said: 'Where you made your confession.'

'What?'

'You remember.'

He thought about it. What confession had he ever made to her? Oh yes: I love you. How could he have forgotten that?

'Yes?' she said.