Suddenly Charles turned to face William, the burning end of the cigarette pointing at William, ‘If you tell father, I will burn a thousand cigarette holes into your body, are we clear?’ he warned, the red of his cigarette close to William’s eye. William nodded. ‘We’re good. Promise. I won’t tell if you don’t,’ he grinned.

Charles backed away, grabbing the packet from William. He drew out another cigarette and lit it with the old one, before sliding down onto a rock and staring out across the sea. William drew on his cigarette, trying not to breathe too much in. All the running had made him fit, and the tobacco would go straight to his head and make him dizzy.

Charles seemed to relax. ‘I never smoked after Dad beat me like he did, that time he caught me,’ said Charles, talking to the sea and the horizon.

‘But then I went on holiday to Thailand a few years back and met this Italian girl. She smoked all the time and eventually I joined her. Since then, I have to sneak around and smoke. It’s ridiculous a grown man not allowed to smoke when I want to,’ Charles’s voice was bitter.

William knew better than to say anything. Angry Charles was pretty scary, but a pensive, moody Charles could definitely be worse. That’s when Charles could turn — like a snake pretending to be dead before miraculously jumping up and biting you. Countless childhood beatings filled William’s head and he knew that being quiet and fading into the background was the best strategy.

The second cigarette took longer than the first. It was as if Charles needed to satiate his initial desire for a cigarette, using the second to calm down.

William didn’t enjoy the cigarette at all. Originally his guilty pleasure, he no longer craved cigarettes and the smoke smelt rancid and sickening. He stubbed out most of the cigarette when Charles looked away and threw it over the rocks.

‘Let’s go,’ said Charles, as he handed William the packet to place it and the lighter behind a different rock.

‘It’s here,’ said William to Charles, showing him where he had placed the cigarettes, ‘In case you need to pop in,’ he said, smiling a naughty grin.

Charles nodded. ‘Doesn’t make us friends, William,’ he said. William nodded. Spoken like a true English.

With Harrison back in the US, William could regain his father’s attention. Damon’s attitude hadn’t changed at all and, despite William’s attempts at humour, Damon just glared at him.

‘Dad, I think we can go for the big scheme now,’ William announced one morning before Damon came in. He stood opposite Edward, on the far side of his enormous desk.

Edward raised his large head and looked at William, sizing him up. ‘How much are we talking?’

‘One hundred million.’ It was now or never.

‘I see,’ said Edward, as he looked back down at the newspaper on his sprawling desk.

‘I know it’s a lot, but I think, well, I know that I can turn it into three times that, Dad,’ said William, trying to win his father’s attention from the paper.

Edward continued to read. William stayed put and waited patiently as the clock hand moved slowly behind his father’s head. He waited for fifteen minutes.

Edward eventually closed the paper and looked up.

‘If you stuff this up, I will either kill you myself or make your life hell, William. Are you sure you want to do this?’ Edward said, his voice even and cold.

William looked at his father, feeling his chest squeeze into his heart. This was it — his only chance to make things right with all the people he cared about; to make things right with a whole family, a tribe of people and their ancestors. He had to try.

He nodded to his father, ‘Yes. I know I can do this.’

‘Well, you are either crazy, brilliant or too dumb to know what I’m capable of. Either way, I’ll take the chance on you, William, because despite what Charles and Damon think, I know you are the one with the brains. Next to Harrison. And he believes in you, so the money is yours. Good luck,’ said Edward, before standing up and stretching, his large biceps bulging and straining against his pale blue shirt.

‘Now that we have that out of the way, where’s my coffee?’ demanded Edward.

William smiled, ‘On it.’