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on. In Tyler’s case these basic life-skills were givens (we hoped) so his points would be geared mostly to good behaviour.
    ‘Okay,’ I said to John now, hearing Mike and Tyler coming back downstairs. ‘But I think “asap” should mean Monday. Let’s let the dust settle. See what the next couple of days throw up first. Give us a chance to get to know him a little better first, at least.’
    ‘Okay,’ said John, beginning to gather his papers up. ‘Sounds good. And I think it’s time I got out of your hair. Short and sweet, but I think our little chap has had enough of authority, don’t you?’ He smiled. ‘Don’t they all? Anyway, email me your proposed programme as soon as you have it and I’ll pass it on to the powers that be for the official sanction. Oh, and fix something up with Will Fisher – have him come round and meet you, fill you in a bit more, just as soon as he’s on top of things in the office, not to mention the case. He’s taken over several from Jenny, so it might be a week or so yet, unless you feel a pressing need to have him round here sooner?’
    I shook my head. Mike and I were well used to going in blind. Yes, I was keen to hear more about Tyler’s background – that could only be helpful. But, unless there was some major crisis that required the social worker’s input, there was no desperate rush.
    ‘Well,’ Mike said, coming back in. ‘Tyler likes his room, don’t you, Tyler? And we’ve more or less worked out where all his stuff is going to go.’ He smiled across at Tyler, who was standing in the doorway, hood still up, chewing his nails. Mike grinned at him. ‘Cat got your tongue again, lad?’
    And for his cheerfulness and patience he was amply rewarded – by an even more spectacular scowl than his previous ones.
    Ouch, I thought, mirroring John’s raised eyebrows. Sleeves definitely up, then. This was going to be fun.

Chapter 4
    The next couple of days were spent establishing ground rules. Though we weren’t planning on starting Tyler on the behaviour management programme till the following Monday, we still needed to put some basic boundaries in place about what was and what wasn’t acceptable. After all, we knew virtually nothing about him – and what we did know didn’t put him in the best light, all told, since it mostly involved a knife and a school exclusion.
    And the need for boundaries became clear before John had even left us; while he was still being kind, and helping bring his young charge’s things in, in fact.
    ‘Careful, you dickhead!’ he’d yelled at John, when the football annual he’d had wedged under his arm had accidentally fallen on the grass. He’d followed that gem up with an equally friendly explanation that ‘My mate Cameron nicked that for me!’
    While John had chastised Tyler for his language – not to mention his ingratitude – I made a mental note of the name Cameron, for future reference.
    I would soon learn who Cameron was, in any case, as Tyler’s response was to whine that it was the only thing he had to remind him of his best friend, upon which John (who obviously already knew) pointed out that, as Cameron only lived five minutes away from where we did, it was hardly as if they were at opposite ends of the world.
    I took all this in as well, filing it in my brain automatically. And I was soon to learn more. Cameron, it seemed, was both Tyler’s friend and his hero – he talked about him so much that it soon became obvious that he was perhaps the most important role-model in his life. Though not necessarily of the positive kind – he was a 15-year-old boy Tyler had known since he’d moved in with his dad. And, from what I could glean, he was a bit of a neglected, latchkey kid – the only child of a single mum who was out all the time (for what reason Tyler knew not, but apparently not work), leaving her son to roam the estate where they lived. From what Tyler told me – of how he sofa-surfed, cadged rides and went