Chapter 12
FRANKIE rang the phone number I’d written down; but as expected, it had been disconnected. I punched the address into the GPS – it was only a few streets away. As we drove, Frankie was silent. I guessed she was mulling over the new information about Jake.
‘His adopted family must have been good for him,’ she said. ‘You don’t usually get good results at school if you’re unhappy. He did better than me, the lucky bastard.’
‘You weren’t happy with your foster family?’
‘Families, I lost count of how many I had. A couple were okay.’
Chasms unspoken, but now was not the time to probe. Number 20 was a low-set, shabby brick home. A pushbike and two skateboards were flung across the front lawn. It had an air of lifelessness about it, and there was no answer to the doorbell.
‘There’s
