Kiddie started muttering under his breath in Yoda talk. I caught, faintly, 'Second one the best, it is,' and glanced over at him. He was hunched over his seat, picking at the stitching on his tracksuit bottoms with a little brown paw. I'd just brought Kid back to mine for a few days because Lisa was under the weather again, and after so many days on the trot we'd tuned right into each other. I could always read Kiddie like a book, and right now, we were on the sensitive page. I'd taken him away from Lisa and Croydon to give her an extra break, and even though he was skiving school, which he hated, he knew damn well that he'd be chanting his tables right now if his mum wasn't in such a bad way. Kids really need their routines and shit to keep them going, because as soon as the familiar patterns stop, they know for sure something's up.