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only four years.’
    Liam sighed and folded his arms. Shepherd didn’t have to be an expert in reading body language to know that his son was upset about something.
    ‘What’s wrong, Liam?’
    The boy sighed again. ‘OK, look, it’s not as if you’re here much, is it?’
    ‘I’ve been away a lot, I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try to be at home more if that’ll help.’
    ‘You always say that, Dad. You always say you’ll spend more time at home but you never do. And you’ve just been in Ireland for almost six months.’
    ‘I was back most weekends.’
    Liam shook his head. ‘No, you weren’t. Maybe once a month you came back.’
    Shepherd took his right hand off the steering wheel and ran it through his hair as he realised that his son was right. The Northern Ireland operation had been as dangerous as they came and every time he had left the Province he’d been putting himself at risk. ‘It was a tough job, Liam.’
    ‘They’re all tough jobs, Dad. And they all need you to be away.’
    ‘So what do you want? You want me to stop doing what I do and get a job in an office?’
    Liam’s eyes narrowed. ‘Would you do that?’
    Shepherd felt his stomach churn as he realised that he was having the same conversation he’d once had with his wife, a conversation that had resulted in him leaving the SAS.
    ‘It’s my career,’ he said.
    ‘It’s your life,’ said Liam, which was exactly what his mother had once said to Shepherd, and he smiled despite himself.
    ‘Sometimes I have to be away, there’s nothing I can do about that,’ said Shepherd. ‘I try to be here as often as I can and I phone every day when I’m away.’
    Liam shook his head. ‘No you don’t,’ he said. ‘Sometimes you don’t phone for two or three days. You’re always sorry when you do eventually call and you always bring me a present when you come back, but . . .’ He tailed off and didn’t finish the sentence.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ said Shepherd.
    ‘You don’t have to keep apologising, Dad, I’m not a kid. I understand about your job and I know what it means to you. This isn’t about you. It’s about me.’
    ‘So how does boarding school help?’
    ‘I don’t know. I just thought . . .’ He shrugged and looked away. ‘I just thought it might make things better, that’s all. Better for everybody, you know.’
    ‘Is there a problem at school here?’
    Liam shook his head. ‘No, it’s OK.’
    ‘You’re not being bullied or anything?’
    ‘Of course not,’ said Liam disdainfully.
    ‘So what’s the problem?’
    ‘It’s not a problem,’ said Liam. He sighed again. ‘I’m just fed up being here on my own.’
    ‘You’ve got Katra.’
    ‘Katra’s great but she’s not my family and she’s a girl.’
    ‘You’ve got your grandparents.’
    ‘And I’d still have them if I was at boarding school. Dad, it’s no biggie.’
    ‘It is a biggie,’ said Shepherd. ‘It’s about you leaving home.’
    ‘It’s boarding school, Dad. That’s not leaving home. I’d be back at holidays and half-terms and you can visit at weekends. I don’t see what the big deal is.’
    ‘There’s the cost, for a start.’
    Liam scowled. ‘So it’s about money? I thought with all the overtime you work that money wouldn’t be a problem.’
    ‘Of course it’s not about money.’
    ‘So why talk about the cost?’
    Shepherd fought the urge to smile. He hadn’t realised how forceful and devious his son had become. It seemed like only yesterday that he’d been changing his nappies and wiping away his tears, and now he was arguing his case as confidently as any adult. ‘OK,’ he said quietly. ‘Let me think about it. But answer me one thing. What’s put this in your head? Something must have sparked it off.’
    Liam shrugged carelessly. ‘Well, a friend of mine left school here to go to boarding school and he says it’s great.’
    ‘Where is his school? The new one?’
    ‘In the Lake District. He says there are no girls