Fliss rolled her eyes. “When am I supposed to do that? At the dinner table? Or when he’s bathing Lila? I hardly ever see him, numpty.”
Lucky Leo, though to be fair, Charlie didn’t see much of Fliss either. “Why are you assuming it’s him?”
“Who else would it be? You’ve never had so much as a drag on a smoke, have you?”
She said it like it was a bad thing, but Charlie ignored that. Andy and Fliss had both told him over and over that they’d kick the shit out of him if they ever caught him smoking. Not that it was likely to happen. He’d never seen the attraction in lacing his lungs with tar. “How do you know they’re joints?”
“Please.” Fliss threw herself into her computer chair and flicked the monitor to life. “I smelt weed on him the day he got here, not that I give a shit what he does. I just don’t want the hassle of Mum and Dad getting all CIA on us again, like they were when Jason stole that Valium from Mrs. Oliver.”
Charlie remembered Jason. He’d stayed with them for three months a few years ago, but in that time had wreaked more havoc than anyone had been quite able to believe. The last straw had been when he’d burgled the elderly neighbours across the street. Kate and Reg had vowed not to take another teenager after that . . . until Leo. “Leo’s not like Jason.”
Fliss tossed a distracted glance at Charlie, clearly already engrossed in whatever crap kept her occupied on the internet. “I know that. Leo’s a nice kid. Fucked up, but nice. Which is why you need to stop him getting himself kicked out. Now piss off. I’ve got shit to do.”
Charlie took his dismissal and swung himself out of the loft. He showered and then slipped into his bedroom, automatically checking on Leo on his way past.
Leo was asleep again, lights on, curtains open. With a sigh, Charlie swapped the main light for his own lamp that had somehow appeared in Leo’s room, but left the curtains open. He left the door ajar too. Lila didn’t crawl into Leo’s bed every night, but Charlie had got into the habit of making things easier for her not to wake Leo when she did—leaving the landing light on, and clearing the floor of clutter.
He hadn’t long been in bed when Reg came knocking at his door. Charlie glanced up from his sketchpad in surprise. It was usually Kate who paid him bedtime visits. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
“I was hoping that you would tell me.”
“Huh?”
Reg’s frown deepened, and he sat on the end of Charlie’s bed. “I’ve had an email from the school this evening. Apparently you and Leo were disruptive in your art class, and then you were missing all afternoon. And this was after Leo was caught leaving the premises at lunchtime. I hope you have a good explanation, young man, because I amverydisappointed in you right now.”
Charlie gulped. Reg’s disappointment was awful and hung around the house like a grey cloud until the offender did something to make him proud again. “Um—”
Reg held up his hand. “And don’t even think about feeding me the story you did your mother earlier. Telling fibs like that was extremely irresponsible, Charlie. You know how important it is that we know what’s going on with Leo. Why did you lie?”
“I didn’t lie.”
“But you were economical with the truth?”
Charlie couldn’t deny it. “I didn’t tell Mum about lunchtime because I didn’t want to get Leo in trouble. And I brought him home early because he was upset and he’d hurt his arm.”
“You didn’t come home early. Mum said you were on time. Where were you all afternoon?”
“Under the bridge. Leo was upset, and I helped him wash his arm. Dad, he wouldn’t have let anyone else do it—youknowthat—and I didn’t want him to go off on his own.”
Reg said nothing for a long moment, his pale gaze as inscrutable as it always was when Charlie was in trouble, and then he sighed, weary and deep, and Charlie felt almost as bad for him as he had for Leo. “All right, son. Thank you for telling me the truth. I appreciate that, but you have to know how serious this is, okay? One of the conditions of us taking Leo was that he had to settle into school as quickly as possible. Mum and I can handle whatever he throws our way, but we can’t tolerate any disruption to your education. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“You’re saying that you’ll send him away,” Charlie said sullenly.
“It would be an absolute last resort, son, but we’d do it if his behaviour had a detrimental effect on you. Is that clear?”
“Yes.” There was nothing else Charlie could say. Mum and Dad hated sending kids away, but he had no doubt that they’d do it to protect the family they already had. “Um, Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to tell Leo I told you about him being upset?”
Reg’s stern expression wilted briefly, and he shook his head. “No. I’m going to tell him what the school told me in the email, and then give him the same warning I’ve given you. It’s only fair that he knows where he stands, Charlie. We can’t give him everything, but we can give him that.”
With one last pointed frown, Reg left the room. Despite the anxious disquiet in Charlie’s belly, sleep came quickly, the darkness closing in like a warm blanket, and it was the early hours of the morning before Leo’s distress woke him.
He shot upright, his heart in his mouth. He’d grown used to Leo’s nighttime muttering—they both slept with their doors open—and Lila’s wandering, but tonight, like the very first night, Leo’s low cry cut Charlie to the bone.
He scrambled out of bed, crossed the landing, and dashed into Leo’s room, catching him as he began to flail. “Shh, Leo. It’s okay.”
