“Brushing dirt from his coat, Sam ignored the wild-eyed looks the other three gave him. Surely a house like this had enough staff to clean up a little dirt?“And who is this young man?” the old lady demanded.Sam opened his mouth to reply, but froze when he saw just who the old woman was.“May I present Sam Morgan, Your Highness,” Griffin said.Bloody hell. It was Queen Victoria. They’d just burrowed their way into Buckingham Palace.”

“In addition to Linda and me, there's a brother, a strange little guy named Bradley, obsessed with his own cowboy boots. He paces areound and around the house, staring at his feet and humming the G. I. Joe song from the television commmercial. He is the ringleader of a neighborhood gang of tiny boys, four-year olds, who throw dirt and beat each other with sticks all day long. In the evenings he comes to dinner with an imaginnary friend named Charcoal.'Charcoal really needs a bath', my mother says, spooning Spaghettios onto his plate. His hands are perfectly clean right up to the wrists and the center of his face is cleared so we can see what he looks like. The rest of him is dirt.”

“He made me pick a safe word." Nik peeked between his fingers. Sam's mouth was hanging open."Oh." Sam's voice was a whisper. More of the throat clearing. "What did you pick?"Not the question he'd been expecting. Nik looked up at Sam from under his hand."Lemonade.""Lemonade?" Nik nodded. "Do you like lemonade?""Does it matter? Yes, I like lemonade.""Shouldn't you have picked something you didn't like, to make sure there were no, um, inadvertent exclamations at an important moment?"He dropped his hand and stared at Sam. "Who screams out 'lemonade' in the middle of sex?"Sam blushed. Nik was momentarily grateful for his dark skin. "You'd be surprised," Sam mumbled.”

“That evening, as he got ready for bed, he heard his mother and father talking in their bedroom, and that was how he learned that Billy had been naked when he was discovered and that the police had arrested a man who lived with his mother in a clean little house not far from where the body was found. David knew from the way they were talking that something very bad had happened to Billy before he died, something to do with the man from the clean little house....Now, in another bedroom, he thought of Jonathan Tulvey and Anna, and wondered if a man from a clean little house, a man who lived with his mother and kept sweets in his pockets, had made them go down with him to the railroad tracks.And there, in the darkness, he had played with them, in his way.”

“He opened his mouth, then closed it, clearly struggling to find a way to touch his son without hurting him. “Jax…” he whispered, his eyes both young and old—pained and filled with joy.”

“All the June Saturday afternoon Sam Pollit's children were on the lookout for him as they skated round the dirt sidewalks and seamed old asphalt of R Street and Reservoir Road that bounded the deep-grassed acres of Tohoga House, their home.”