Even though he'd already been anticipating this, the names still settle in Marcus like a physical weight, and he exhales slowly, trying to work out what he ought to do. Calling the police would do nothing at all, although the boys of course wouldn't understand that. To their view, they've been taken from their homes and locked away somewhere unfamiliar, probably by someone dangerous.

He hasn't the slightest idea how to explain to them what's really happened.

"I'm afraid the police won't do much to help," he admits. "Can I explain a little? We don't have to go anywhere and I won't ask you to leave the cafe, but hopefully if I tell you a bit about what's going on, you'll understand a little better."

Should he tell them they're usually adult men? That although he doesn't really know Martin terribly well, he and John have grown to be friends? He tries to remember what people had told him when he'd woken up here, thirteen and angry and so deeply afraid, but finds he can't recall. Perhaps he's forgotten most of it on purpose.