Godfrey’s fingers wrapped round her throat, forcing her head back and his face just inches from hers. His eyes looked hard and cold, like flints, as he tightened his grip. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t make another sound, her body trapped between the wall and the man who was trying to squeeze the life out of her.

‘You bitch!’ Godfrey hissed. ‘You’ve ruined my life. I’ve lost everything because of you. Did you think you would get away with it?’

Sarah could feel his saliva on her face as he spat his words with such venom. She struggled for breath, knew she had to somehow placate him and managed to croak, ‘Sorry.’

‘Sorry! You’re sorry! I’ve been disinherited, thrown out of my home, and all you can say is you’re sorry! You fucking whore! I’m going to make sure you pay for this.’

Sarah’s skirt was tight but she could feel his other hand roughly grabbing at the bare flesh on her thigh. She couldn’t scream for help and feared he was going to rape her. The more she fought against him, the tighter he gripped her throat, and she began to panic. She felt her windpipe being crushed, and as she desperately tried to suck in air, she became aware that the world around her was spinning until it slowly faded.

George was surprised to see Tommy running towards him again, but soon became alarmed when he saw the child’s frightened face and no sign of Sarah.

‘George … George … a man’s got Mummy in an alley and he’s hurting her,’ Tommy shouted as he approached.

He knew instantly that it must be that Godfrey bloke, and quickly yelled, ‘Roger, come with me. Sarah’s being attacked.’ He looked down at Tommy and grabbed the boy’s shoulders, ‘Wait here, don’t move and don’t worry,’ he said, before running off with Roger closely on his heels.

‘Move … move …’ George shouted as he charged through the crowd and waved his arms like a man possessed. Once away from the market, he ran the route that Sarah would have taken to go home. Tommy had said she was in an alley and he stopped to look up the first one he came to. There was nothing in it except empty boxes and a dustbin. His legs pumping like pistons, he ran to the next street, then the next, until he came to another alley. He paused, panting, sure he could see something at the back in the corner. He ran in, and behind some rubbish saw a man standing over something. His stomach lurched. It was Sarah.

‘Get your fucking hands off her,’ George yelled.