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too far? She looked at Flora, whose eyes glistened too brightly. But she couldn’t apologise, not even if Flora was upset. Sylvie had started this.
    ‘Minnie!’ Mum’s voice, calling from upstairs, broke the tension. ‘Is that you home? Come up now, we’re going to eat.’
    Everyone seemed grateful for the distraction. Minnie opened the salon door to let them out. Piotr was the last to leave. He stopped in the open doorway. ‘I’m sorry your gran is frightened,’ he said. ‘We’ll all try to make it better.Even Sylvie.’ Then he stepped into the street. The twins turned right; the boys headed left.
    Minnie sighed and walked through the salon towards the stairs up to the flat.
    Dad was beside the treatment room, by the broken back door. He had his toolkit and was busy unscrewing the shattered lock.
    ‘Shouldn’t you wait until the police have taken finger-prints?’ she said.
    He shrugged. ‘There’s no sign of them. And we can’t leave the back door unlocked all night.’
    He was right, but Minnie wondered whether the police would be cross when they arrived – it was a crime scene after all. She hoped Jimmy would be the one investigating the break-in. He had helped them a lot when they’d been hunting diamonds stolen from the theatre.
    She stomped up the stairs. It was weirdly quiet inside. Mum would normally have music on, old highlife tunes, or chart music – anything she could dance to while she did Sunday chores before work the next day, the loud beat battling with the roar of the Hoover. But tonight, nothing.
    Minnie went into the kitchen. Mum was wiping down surfaces with spray. Something simmered gently in a poton the cooker. The smell of spiced meat and soft vegetables made Minnie’s mouth water.
    ‘Shall I lay the table?’ Minnie asked.
    ‘I don’t know if your gran is eating with us,’ Mum said. ‘She seemed a bit tired. She’s gone for a lie-down.’
    ‘Oh,’ Minnie said.
    Mum scrubbed harder at the kitchen worktop.
    ‘Shall I go and ask her?’
    But there was no need. Gran came out of the bedroom at that moment. Despite her bulk, she somehow managed to look lost. It was to do with the way her shoulders drooped, her hands clasped together. The bright, talkative woman who’d got off the plane yesterday seemed to have gone entirely. Minnie hoped that it wasn’t for good.
    ‘No police yet?’ Gran asked. Her voice shook a little.
    ‘Not yet, Mama,’ Mum said. ‘We’ll phone again.’
    ‘Terrible,’ Gran said. She shuffled into the kitchen and sat down heavily in a chair.
    Minnie opened the cutlery drawer as softly as she could; the spoons chinked together despite her care. She took out four of everything and began to lay the table.
    ‘When will the police come?’ Gran asked.
    ‘They don’t usually take this long,’ Minnie said. Whenthey’d needed Jimmy at the theatre, he’d been there in seconds.
    ‘It is because they think the problems of an old Nigerian woman don’t matter,’ Gran said.
    ‘Our friend Jimmy won’t think that. He’s the local special constable,’ Minnie said.
    ‘Then where is he?’ Gran said softly.
    Minnie had no answer.
    They heard Dad come into the flat and go to wash his hands in the bathroom. Mum took out four plates and ladled the hot stew on to them.
    All through dinner they were expecting the police to call. But the phone was silent.
    As Minnie got into bed that night, she could hear Gran’s hands shaking as she turned the pages of her book. Gran was frightened. And the peanut boy? Where was he tonight? Was he safe?
    And where was Jimmy when she needed him?
    Minnie stared up at the darkness of the ceiling for a long time before she finally fell asleep.

Chapter Six
    Andrew met Flora the following morning at the market. Today the traders were out and the street bustled with life. People shouted out their bargains, a chorus of special offers. Customers joked with the traders, called to each other, the business birdsong of the city.
    Flora