Chapter 28
Jayden arrived at Ethan’s tidy little terraced house at around half past ten on Saturday morning.
The house was a hive of activity: cars were double-parked for the next fifty feet either side of it, and the front door was wide open. A dumpy blonde woman who was definitely Ethan’s mother, by the face on her, was corralling some lanky teenager into holding still for some photographs being taken by a balding man in his sixties who was equally definitely Ethan’s dad, by the height on him. The taxi struggled to pull up; Ethan’s house had a driveway barely fit for a Fiat 500, and the activity and narrow street meant it was almost entirely blocked off.
“Sorry,” Jayden said, paying the disgruntled cabbie, and stepped out into Paul’s hands.
“There you are!” Paul said, and hugged him
