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Next to Toby stood young Charlie Thornton. A few paces back, outside the garden gate, Nicko and Stella waited patiently. The front door of the grand townhouse in Chelsea opened, and Toby was bathed in the warm glow of the fire of a family home.
‘My little boy!’ exclaimed a pretty woman, rushing to hug Charlie as she opened the door. A stained apron was tied around her waist and her mousy hair stood pinned back in a loose bun. She looked tired. ‘Your father and I have been worried sick. We thought we’d lost you forever.’ Toby could smell her sweet perfume, and thought how much she looked like Charlie.
‘No, Mum. I was saved.’
‘How? What happened? Tell us everything. Wait... where are my manners? Who are your friends, dear?’ She smiled at Toby, then Nicko and Stella, noticing
