Taylor realised he was sitting on a grate, and the shuddering sound had come from the fan kicking on beneath it. It sucked the air in, making the vent go cold.
“Look, just come here, okay? We’ll get you down and take you?—”
“No!” William cried, tears making fresh tracks down his grubby cheeks. “I don’t want to. Leave me alone.”
Taylor snapped his head back as William threw another punch. Sucking his teeth, he said, “Um, yeah. Not happening, my guy.”
Despite the aggression, William’s eyes were wide and watery, his chin quivered and his brown hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks. He smelled terrible, but more than anything else he looked exhausted.
“What happened?” Taylor asked, using the most soothing voice he could muster.
“Nothing!” William yelled, gripping the front of his ragged coat and curling himself into a ball. He pulled it over his head, soTaylor used the opportunity to press the talk-through button on his radio.
“PC Campbell to Sergeant Wilson?”
His earpiece crackled immediately. “Taylor! I mean, PC Campbell. Just what the hell are you—I mean, yes, go ahead.”
“Please can you ask JP to call social services? The kid on the roof is William Manders, son of Aden Manders. Kat Pilgrim is his designated worker.”
William groaned from beneath his coat, and Taylor gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Sorry, buddy, but you know I have to.” Taylor leant into the vent and sighed. “Come on, Will. Don’t you think your dad’s worried?” Taylor hated every bit of that sentence, but he hoped that some small part of it was true.
“My dad doesn’t give a shit,” William replied, voice muffled by his coat. “No one gives a shit.”
“Hey!” Taylor rocked forwards on the balls of his feet. “I hijacked a fire engine to get up here. It was pretty cool, actually.”
The comment was met with silence, and William drew his legs up further into his chest.
Sighing, Taylor backed off a little. “You must be hungry, right? If we’re quick we could probably convince the chef to make us some toast. Peanut butter, jam?”
Still nothing. Tough customer.
“Okay, well, what about your mum? I’m pretty sure you?—”
“Mum moved out,” William muttered, dropping the coat a little so Taylor could see his eyebrows.
“Oh. When did that happen?”
“Last week,” William mumbled.
“Well, where is she?”
The coat dropped a tiny bit more, and Taylor could see the way his nose was scrunched and his eyes screwed shut. “I don’tknow.” The words were so quiet Taylor almost didn’t catch them. “She just left in a taxi with a suitcase and never came back.”
Taylor swallowed. “I… Oh. Holiday, maybe?”
William scoffed. “No, she’s gone. She told Dad she wasn’t putting up with his shit anymore and left.”
Wetting his lips, Taylor looked at the floor. He was struggling to come up with things to say, but he knew he had to keep William talking. “Were they arguing again?”
William pulled the coat tighter around himself. “Of course they were. You know how Dad gets. He’s horrible, and Mum—” There was a sniffle, followed by a quiet whine. “I want my mum.”
Taylor looked up at the sky. “I know, bud. I know.”
“No, you don’t!” William snapped. “You don’t know. You’ve got a perfect life and perfect parents and you strut around like you own the place!”
Taylor was fairly certain those last few words came from his dad, so he was willing to let them slide. “You think I have perfect parents?” Taylor chuckled, resting an arm against the side of the vent.
