33

Part 3

It was the drop of a mug that brought Mr Armitage back. He’d slept the entire night on Sara’s bed. His legs numb from hanging off the end. Left him stumbling even worse than usual on his way downstairs.

“I’m sorry, Mr Armitage, shit, I’m so sorry.” The boy was struggling with the handle of a mug, trying to find something to reattach it. He was rooting through drawers for some glue or tape. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

“No bother, lad, have you met me?!” He laughed.

Calum eased up then, chancing a joke - “Yes, I suppose it’s a miracle any of them are still intact.” He stared warily at Mr Armitage.

“It certainly is!” He replied, as he came closer into the kitchen, “Making breakfast? Very kind of you, lad.”

Calum smiled. He liked making breakfast. “Breakfast of champions,” he said, with great bravery, as he laid down the meal for Mr Armitage that he’d carried up to his father two days ago. He was grateful to Mrs Careen, but she had left him with more questions than answers. He opted for formality, thinking Mr Armitage would find his tone appropriate and respectable. Peers. He felt the need, given his outburst yesterday when he’d been sent to the house alone.

“I’ve been through a lot, you’ll understand,” he began, “and I must say I am very concerned for my brother.”

“As am I, lad, greatly so.”

“I believe, all things considered, that I am proving myself resilient, and I feel we’ll need my involvement - and yours - and Mrs Careen’s - if we are to find him.”

Mr Armitage made sure to sit straight and listen intently to the lad, despite finding everything about this moment rather hilarious. The boy was speaking as if he were in an episode of Poirot.

“Quite right,” he replied, “you’ve been most impressive since this whole terrible business began, and you’re absolutely vital in unpicking this whole mystery.” His language was designed to meet the boy's formality, though the words themselves were true.

Calum beamed - “Awesome - I mean - I’m glad you agree”.

He risked trouble but had to take the opportunity while Mr Armitage was sold on their partnership;

“I overheard you and Mrs Careen last night - you aren’t exactly quiet, and I am not sleeping particularly well - and, well, I thought - I suppose you’d have more success if you revisit your neighbour, with me accompanying you.”

Mention of Number Seven immediately brought an end to their game. It was a dangerous idea for the boy to entertain.

“Absolutely not, lad.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s not safe, lad, he’s far worse than he used to be. Plus I might just lose you in that bloody house of his.”